The sun hadn’t even fully risen when chaos began.
Toast burning in the toaster, the baby crying, the twins fighting over who got the pink cup. My coffee had gone cold again and I couldn’t remember if I’d packed their lunchboxes or just thought about packing them.

As I looked around the kitchen crumbs on the floor, toys scattered everywhere I felt that familiar sting of shame. Other mums on Instagram somehow managed to have spotless homes, perfectly dressed kids, and smiles that didn’t look forced. Me? I was drowning in unfinished chores and guilt.

“Why can’t I just get it together?” I whispered to myself, brushing away a tear before the kids could see.

The Hidden Battle
People called me forgetful. Disorganized. Lazy.
They didn’t see the hours I spent making lists I’d later misplace, or how my mind jumped from task to task like a browser with fifty tabs open.

ADHD wasn’t just a “kid thing.” It was a constant tug-of-war inside my head…A million thoughts pulling in different directions, leaving me exhausted before the day even started.

I wanted to be the mum who meal-prepped on Sundays, who remembered birthdays, who could host playdates without feeling overwhelmed. Instead, I felt like a failure in slow motion watching myself try so hard and still fall short.

The Comparison Trap
At school pick-up, I watched other mums chatting easily, their hair brushed, clothes unstained, children neatly lined up beside them. They laughed, they planned, they had it together.

And there I was, wearing yesterday’s jumper, praying no one would notice the peanut butter smudge on my sleeve.

I admired them and resented myself.
If they could do it, why couldn’t I?

Each forgotten permission slip, each missed laundry load, each meltdown (mine or the kids’) became evidence in the courtroom of my mind: You’re not trying hard enough. You’re a lazy mum.

The Turning Point
One night, after another day of chaos, I sat in the bathroom with the door locked and tears running down my face. I typed “Why can’t I manage being a mum?” into Google and what came up made me pause.

Articles, forums, women mothers just like me.
Smart. Loving. Overwhelmed. And many of them had ADHD.

For the first time, the pieces started to fit.
Maybe I wasn’t broken. Maybe my brain just worked differently.

Rediscovering Myself
With a proper diagnosis, I began to understand my patterns not as failures, but as symptoms. I started therapy, learned strategies, and gave myself grace.

I began using visual reminders sticky notes, color-coded bins, a big wall calendar. I learned that structure helped, but perfection wasn’t the goal.

I also started speaking openly about ADHD especially with other mums. And guess what? Some of those “together” mums whispered back that they struggled too.

Slowly, the guilt started to fade.
Not because life got easier but because I learned to see my worth beyond the mess.

To Every Mum Like Me
If you’re reading this with dishes in the sink and toys on the floor, please know: 
You are not lazy.
You are not failing.
You are a mum doing her best with a brain that just works a little differently.

Here’s what helped me find my footing again:
*Seek professional help. A diagnosis or therapy can be life-changing.

*Simplify routines. Small, consistent steps matter more than perfection.

*Use visual aids. Calendars, lists, and reminders help bridge the gap between intention and action.

*Ask for support. You don’t have to carry everything alone.

*Show yourself compassion. Your children don’t need a perfect mum—they need you, present and loving.

*Now, when I see the crumbs on the floor and the laundry mountain on the couch, I remind myself;
This isn’t laziness. This is life.

Messy, beautiful, real life.

And I’m not a lazy mum.

I’m a mum learning to thrive—with ADHD, and with love.
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My name is Blessing Edobor your storyteller 😍

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