When Connection Feels Like a Luxury (But It’s Actually a Lifeline)
Let me be honest: there are days when the only “connection” I have with my kids is us all crying at the same time over spilled Cheerios. My goal though, is to be parenting with connection. So, what does that look like?
Between back-to-back meltdowns (theirs and mine), misplaced socks, and my own ADHD brain fog, connecting can feel like just one more thing I’m not doing “well enough.”
But here’s what I’ve learned—especially as a neurodivergent mom of three, including a 3-year-old with ADHD:
Connection isn’t a luxury. It’s a lifeline.
It’s the thing that keeps us tethered to each other, even in the mess. It’s how we turn chaos into closeness—and survival into something a little more meaningful.
Here’s how I try (imperfectly, consistently) to parent through connection and understanding.
1. Practice Active Listening (Even When My Brain Wants to Scroll)
Listening sounds simple. But when your brain is multitasking by default, it’s hard to truly hear your child without simultaneously planning dinner, rewinding that spiraling thought, or remembering where you left the wipes.
But when I stop—really stop—and give my child my full attention? Magic happens.
- I sit at their level.
- I make eye contact.
- I say, “Tell me more.”
- I reflect their feelings back, even if I don’t totally understand them.
It’s not about solving their problems—just letting them be heard. And for neurodivergent kids like mine, being heard without correction is everything.
2. Empathize With Their Perspective (Even If It’s About the Wrong Color Cup)
Ever cried over the “wrong” cup? No? My toddler has. My preschooler has. And, not gonna lie, I’ve come close.
ADHD and neurodivergence often amplify feelings—and kids feel everything big. When we rush to fix or dismiss, we miss the chance to say:
“Yeah… that’s frustrating. I get it.”
Empathy doesn’t mean agreement. It just means showing up emotionally—even when their outburst over a broken banana doesn’t make sense to us.
And hey, neurodivergent mama tip? Sometimes I use that same line for myself when I’m spiraling.
3. Set Clear Boundaries With Compassion (Because Chaos Without Limits? Nope.)
I used to think setting boundaries meant being harsh. But for ADHD brains—mine and theirs—structure is kindness.
We don’t thrive with chaos. We crave predictability, even when we push against it.
So, I’ve learned to:
- Explain rules before they’re broken
- Stay calm when enforcing them (working on this daily, tbh)
- Offer choices when possible
- Validate feelings even as I hold the boundary
Example: “I know you’re mad bedtime is here already. I hear you. You can choose two books tonight, and we’ll read them together.”
Boundaries + connection = security.
4. Prioritize Quality Time (Even If It’s 10 Minutes on the Floor)
Let me say something radical: Connection doesn’t require hours of crafts and Pinterest-worthy projects.
Some of our best bonding moments happen:
- While coloring beside each other
- During bedtime snuggles
- When I pause to just watch them play and say, “I love spending time with you.”
We aim for 10–15 minutes of child-led play or conversation each day. No phones. No distractions. Just me, them, and whatever chaos their imagination cooked up. Somedays, this is what parenting with connection looks like.
🛒 Want a simple way to be fully present during play? We love these sensory fidget kits that keep little hands (and mine) busy while we chat.
5. Lead by Example (Even When That Means Owning My Mess)
As much as I’d love to be the calm, regulated mom who handles every tantrum like a zen monk… that’s not always reality.
But here’s what I can do:
- Apologize when I lose it
- Show how I calm down (deep breaths, walk away, cry, then return)
- Let them see me trying to be better
If I want my kids to grow up kind, resilient, and emotionally aware—I have to model those things myself.
Even if I do it with a side of coffee breath and mismatched socks.
What Parenting Through Connection Really Looks Like
It’s not always pretty. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s tear-streaked and interrupted by loud snacks and louder opinions.
But connection doesn’t demand perfection.
It asks us to show up. To lean in. To try again.
And in the moments when it all clicks—when your child melts into your arms after a meltdown, when they whisper something real in the dark, when they say “You’re the best mommy”—it all feels worth it.
Want More Posts Like This?
Read next: Parenting a Child With ADHD When You Have It Too
Affiliate Disclosure:
This post contains affiliate links. That means I may earn a small commission—at no extra cost to you—if you buy something through the links. I only recommend tools and resources I personally use (or desperately wish I’d found sooner).