Getting diagnosed with ADHD at 41 explains a lot — the impulsive motorcycle, chaotic TV career, and why her nickname is Hammy. Cece takes us through her late-diagnosis journey with humor, honesty, and a reminder that you’re not broken — you’re just wired differently.

Middle school with ADHD wasn’t about algebra—it was about survival. My kid, Kei, turned every day into Mission: Impossible, starring in covert ops like hallway “errands,” bathroom hideouts, and nurse’s office escapes. Forget Ethan Hunt—this was ADHD Hunt.

Part 3 tackles high school accommodations, how to formally request a 504 Plan, how to handle school pushback, and a quick-reference checklist to keep you organized and unshakable.

Part 2 breaks down the exact accommodations to ask for in elementary and middle school — so you don’t show up to your 504 meeting empty-handed.

Part 1 covers the “what” and “why” of 504 Plans — including how they differ from IEPs, why most ND kids start here, and what you need to know before you ever walk into a school meeting.

Freshman year with ADHD isn’t just a new chapter—it’s a survival sport. From mastering the locker combo (without getting “axed”) to finding your people before day one, here’s how we’re tackling high school with humor, strategy, and maybe a drumstick in our pocket.

Let’s be honest: launching your neurodivergent kid into sleepaway camp is less “peaceful summer break” and more “emotional cannonball into the unknown.” One minute you’re carefully labeling every sock, the next you’re decoding a single sentence letter that ends with, “Anyway, love ya”—which was definitely written by either ChatGPT or an alien named Elitneg Iek. In this chaotic checklist meets camp survival guide, I break down what “readiness” actually looks like (spoiler: it

According to Kei, I say “no” more than I say “hello.” But here’s the thing—boundaries aren’t just rules. For ADHD kids, they’re lifesavers in disguise. And yes, sometimes they look like silent standoffs, double-whisky survival strategies, and one well-timed Death Stare.

Puzzles were never Kei’s thing. He couldn’t match shapes, didn’t care, and I may have mildly traumatized him with my neurotypical puzzle snobbery. But years later, something clicked—literally. Now he builds the border, makes the rules, and taps each piece into place like a king claiming his throne. I do the work. He gets the glory. It’s fine. I’m fine.

Ever tried to keep a clean house while raising an ADHD tornado who thinks the floor is the laundry basket? Welcome to my life. I’m a recovering neat freak, he’s a chaos connoisseur, and together we’ve mastered the art of Functional Chaos. If you've ever argued with a sock pile or considered labeling your entire house, this one's for you.

Whether you're ADHD, autistic, anxious, or just chronically fidgety, these 5 sensory tools are the holy grail of focus and self-regulation. From spinners to squishy balls to magnetic rings, we tested them (and broke a few) so you don’t have to. This list is funny, functional, and fully stim-approved.

That hoodie isn’t just cute — it’s emotional armor. For the overstimulated and under-caffeinated, clothes are more than outfits. They’re communication tools. Sometimes even therapy.

Mornings start with a naked game of “Catch the Capsule,” evenings end with toothpaste interrogations, and somewhere in between, I’m just trying not to lose my mind. ADHD parenting isn’t for the faint of heart — but with humor, meds, and a little something called Strike Force, we survive one meltdown at a time.

When your ADHD kid comes home sobbing, “Nobody wants to play with me,” and you’re two seconds from crying into your third cup of coffee—this one’s for you. From failed football experiments to drumsticks through drywall, here’s how we ditched forced friendships and found the chaos crew that actually gets him. Bonus: real tools, zero sugarcoating, and one rogue sock in a snack-covered shed.

Clothes that itch, squeeze, or betray you mid-wear? Hard pass. Dive into the ND wardrobe rules — tagless, stim-safe, and worn ‘til it walks away.

It all started with a 3D printer, a fidget-hustling ADHD kid, and a mom trying to caffeinate her way through the chaos. Spoiler: we were just trying to make a toy. Instead, we built a brand.