Listen, I need you to know something about me. About us. About every ADHD mom who’s ever walked into a Michael’s at 3pm on a Tuesday with “just one quick idea.”

We are visionaries. We are creative geniuses. We see potential in everything from Pinterest boards to that weird corner in the living room that “could totally be a reading nook.” Our brains are basically idea factories running a 24/7 shift with no HR department to regulate things.

The problem? Our execution department called in sick. In 2019. And hasn’t returned our emails.

The Spark of Genius (That Becomes a Dumpster Fire)

It always starts so beautifully, doesn’t it?

You’re scrolling Instagram at 11pm (because sleep is for people whose brains have an off switch), and suddenly you see it: THE PROJECT. Maybe it’s a capsule wardrobe organization system. Or homemade sensory bins for the kids. Or learning to make sourdough bread because apparently that’s still a thing. (Is it though??)

Your brain immediately lights up like a Christmas tree on steroids. The dopamine hits HARD. You can see the finished project in your mind—Pinterest-perfect, life-changing, the thing that will finally make you the organized, put-together mom you know is buried somewhere under the laundry pile.

You’re clicking “add to cart” before your rational brain even gets a vote. Express shipping? Obviously. We’re doing this NOW.

The Honeymoon Phase (AKA The First 37 Minutes)

Those first few hours with a new project? We’re flowing, we’re vibing. This is when we’re at our absolute peak. We’re researching, we’re planning, we’re buying seventeen different types of washi tape because each one serves a “completely different purpose.”

We’re telling our partner about this amazing new system that’s going to revolutionize our entire household. We’re already mentally decorating the space where the finished project will live. We might even—and I cannot stress enough how serious we are in this moment—set an alarm to “work on the project every day at 9am.”

Bless our hearts. We really believe it this time.

The Middle (Where Projects Go to Become Decor)

Here’s where things get spicy.

Week two rolls around, and suddenly that scrapbook project is less “cherished family memories” and more “expensive box taking up half the dining room table.” The kids need to eat. Life gets busy. Your brain discovers a NEW idea that’s even MORE exciting than the last one.

And just like that, Project #1 joins the ranks of:

• The half-organized closet with color-coded hangers (12 hangers done, 64 to go)
• The bullet journal you used for exactly 4 days in March
• The Cricut machine that cost more than your last trip to Costco and is still in the box
• The “easy” photo book that’s been “almost done” since 2021
• Every recipe you’ve pinned to try “this week”

They become what I lovingly call “decorative intentions.” They’re not clutter—they’re reminders that we cared once. We cared SO MUCH.

Why This Happens (It’s Not Because We’re Lazy, Karen)

Let’s get real for a second. The ADHD brain is literally wired differently. We’re not failing at project completion because we lack discipline or motivation. Our brains are constantly seeking novelty and dopamine, and guess what provides a massive hit of both?

Starting something new.

Finishing something? That’s the boring part. That’s detail work. That’s doing the same task multiple times until it’s done, which feels like being forced to watch paint dry while someone reads you the dictionary.

Our executive function—the part of the brain that’s supposed to help us plan, organize, and follow through—is basically that coworker who’s always “working from home” but you’re pretty sure they’re actually at the beach.

We don’t have a creativity problem. We have a finishing problem. And the guilt that comes with it? That’s the free gift with purchase nobody asked for.

The Plot Twist: Our “Flaw” Is Actually Our Superpower

Here’s what I need you to hear: Your ability to generate ideas, to see possibilities everywhere, to get genuinely EXCITED about creating things? That’s not a bug. That’s a feature.

The world needs people who can think outside the box, who can see potential, who bring energy and innovation to everything they touch. Sure, we might touch 47 things and not finish 46 of them, but that ONE thing we do finish? It’s probably amazing.

Plus, sometimes the “failure” itself leads somewhere unexpected. That half-finished scrapbook taught you that you actually hate scrapbooking but love photography. That abandoned garden project taught you which plants actually thrive on neglect (hello, succulents). That Cricut? Okay, that one’s still judging us from the closet.

Working WITH Our Brains (Not Against Them)

I’m not going to lie and say I’ve “fixed” this. I haven’t. My office still looks like a hurricane hit a Container Store. But I’ve learned a few things:

The “One Box Rule”: Each new project gets ONE designated box. When the box gets pushed aside for a new box, I have a choice—finish it in the next week or donate the supplies. The guilt decreases significantly when you reframe it as “giving someone else the joy of these supplies.”

The Body Double: Sometimes I can trick my brain into finishing things if I’m on FaceTime with another ADHD mom who’s also trying to finish something. Misery loves company, but so does completion.

Embrace the Hyperfocus Windows: When you DO get in the zone on a project, cancel everything else. Order pizza. Call a babysitter. Ride that wave as far as it’ll take you.

The “Good Enough” Philosophy: That project doesn’t need to be Instagram-perfect. It needs to be done. Finished is better than perfect. Always.

Set a Timer for “Just 10 Minutes”: Sometimes we just need to start. Ten minutes isn’t scary. And if you stop at ten minutes, great! If you accidentally hyperfocus for three hours, even better!

The Truth About ADHD Moms and Projects

We’re going to keep having ideas. That’s who we are. Our brains are beautiful, chaotic, creative tornadoes, and honestly? I wouldn’t change it.

Yes, I have four unfinished projects staring at me right now. Yes, I already have ideas for three more. Yes, my family has learned to just smile and nod when I announce my latest “genius plan.”

But I’ve also created beautiful things. I’ve learned new skills. I’ve brought joy and creativity into my home. And sometimes—sometimes—I actually finish something, and it feels like winning the lottery.

So here’s to us. The idea generators. The creative chaos coordinators. The moms whose Amazon shopping carts look like a craft store explosion. The women who see potential in everything and have the courage to try.

We might not finish everything we start. But we sure make life interesting.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I just had an idea for reorganizing my pantry, and I need to go buy seventeen types of label makers before this dopamine wears off.

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P.S. If you’re reading this surrounded by unfinished projects, you’re not alone. You’re not failing. You’re not “too much.” You’re exactly enough, exactly as you are. Even with the hot glue gun you haven’t touched in six months still sitting on your counter. (That’s where I keep mine, buried under the mail.)

What’s your most ambitious unfinished project? Drop it in the comments—I need to know I’m not alone with my Cricut judgment.