Parental self-care for me, is as laughable as the idea that someone might catch cholera in Gabriel García Márquez’s Love in the Time of Cholera. I discovered, much to my dismay, that the novel is not about a cholera epidemic at all, but rather a tale of unrequited love and enduring passion. But I digress. Self-care, for me, is that elusive unicorn—a mythical being that shimmers in the distance but vanishes upon approach.
As an ADHD mother to two AuDHD children, I can safely say that I would prefer the predictable miseries of cholera on most days, over the relentless chaos of managing our neurodivergent lives. The notion of self-care in this household is nothing short of a fantastical dream. We are swamped with endless demands, distractions and disastrous to-do lists. Our whirlwind lives allow little time for self-care and healing. Parents of ND kids are ace jugglers and have sprouted an extra pair of hands, legs, eyes and ears. Occasionally, there may be fleeting moments of peace, where we sip a cup of not-so-hot coffee, but our minds are whirring with the to-do lists. Most days we wonder if we are doing enough, whether milestones are being met, if are raising our kids right, if there is something more that can be done, if we are doing right by all our kids and not just focusing on one and ignoring the other. We worry about the future, about their lives after us. Our body may be at rest, but the mind truly does not stop.
Each time Sethu asks me to focus on self-care, I try not to snort. They painstakingly try to help us focus on ourselves with the analogy of the full cup, but my coffee is usually cold. Last year, however, I was determined it was time for a change. I started by setting a reading goal on my dusty Kindle. I decided to do some crafts to keep my mind engaged instead of thinking of setting up doctor’s appointments. I struggled at the start but found my rhythm eventually. I do not carve out time for myself during the day, but rather steal it to do things I enjoy. I read while waiting to pick up the kids from school, I learnt to make flowers (although my ADHD hyperfocus, blew that hobby out of the park), I play a game on the phone and let the kids “spend the coins” as a reward for chores.
I have focused less on the to-do and more on the have-done lists now. Self-care is important, but it doesn’t need to look like sitting down with a cup of coffee. It could be anything that makes you smile. My self-care routine involves reading, moisturising (this ties in with my New Year’s resolution of finishing the 22 odd bottles of lotion I own), meeting my ASD support group friends and kicking a bean bag when I am mad, amongst others.
Self-care is often overlooked but it does not need to be elusive. I wake up 15 minutes earlier than usual to enjoy the coffee while it’s still hot. I involve the kids in chores (and get a lot of tips from Bluey) and reduce my workload. Delegate what you can.
Enjoy your kids, they will be young once. And while cholera might sound dramatic, it’s the never-ending quest for balance and a semblance of self that truly feels like the epic struggle. Self-care goes a long way in making the struggle a tad easier.
Written by Samantha, a neurodivergent mum of two neurodivergent children, who has been associated with Sethu Centre for Child Development and Family Guidance for support services