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Recently, I impulse-bought a game called Grab the Mic. I bought it (because ADHD).I bought it because my goblin brain whispered, “I crave something silly and frivolous.” Last night, after one of those long, heavy, bone-deep exhausting days, my daughter — the littlest Firebrand, a tiny ball of anxiety and unfiltered brilliance — and I peeled the shrink film off the box, skimmed the rules, and immediately ignored them. Our goal wasn’t to win. Our goal was… whatever the opposite

I’ve been so tired this week. Not the kind of tired a good night’s sleep fixes, but the kind that seeps into your bones, the kind you feel in every hair follicle. The kind that lingers even when the checklist is done. Admittedly, some of it’s just poor sleep; I’ve always struggled with that. But some of it is the exhaustion of managing too many versions of myself at once. The professional version. The parenting version. The caretaker version. The “please don’t stim too loudly

The TL;DR: We started this blog the same way we start most things, with big chaotic ideas, high hopes, and zero chill. Will we update it...