Stop Saving Them: The Small Shift That Builds Real Independence
Why rescuing feels loving but slowly steals your child’s confidence
There’s a moment most ADHD parents know well.
Your child is struggling with something small. Packing their bag. Finding their shoes. Starting homework. Cleaning their room. Nothing dramatic. Just stuck.
You can see exactly what needs to happen. You know the steps. You know you could fix it in ten seconds.
So you step in.
You pack the bag. You find the shoes. You start the task. You smooth the path. Often because it reduces friction, and we all know how much we don’t like (need) friction.
It feels efficient. Kind, even. Like good parenting.
And sometimes it is.
But if you zoom out, something subtle starts to happen.
You get more competent.
They get less practiced.
Not less capable. Less practiced.
There’s a difference.
In ADHD households especially, parents often become professional rescuers. We anticipate the problem before it happens and quietly prevent it. We remember the form, pack the snack, double-check the schedule, solve the meltdown before it escalates. We do it because we love our kids and because it keeps the day moving.
Over time, though, we accidentally take on all the thinking.
And when one person does all the thinking, everyone else stops building that muscle.
Psychologist Albert Bandura’s research on self-efficacy is clear about one thing. Confidence doesn’t come from praise or reassurance. It comes from mastery experiences. From doing something hard, wobbling a bit, and realizing, “Oh. I can actually handle this.”
Not from someone else quietly fixing it for you.
When we rescue too quickly, we protect our kids from discomfort, but we also protect them from mastery. They never get the small, ordinary wins that teach their nervous system, “I can figure things out.”
So we end up in this strange loop. Parents get more exhausted. Kids feel less capable. Everyone feels frustrated.
It doesn’t happen because anyone is lazy. It happens because the system is too efficient.
I’ve noticed this in my own house. If I pack everything myself, the morning runs smoothly and I feel competent. But my kids float through it like passengers, without engaging or thinking. When something goes wrong, they look at me, not themselves, for the fix (and let me tell you, when this happens, it sucks the dopamine right out of me.)
On the days I step back, it’s slower. Messier. There’s more sighing. Sometimes something gets forgotten. And if I’m honest, what makes it hard to watch isn’t just the chaos. It’s memory. I was the kid who forgot things all the time. That old, deferred shame rises quickly and tries to convince me to fix everything before they feel what I once felt (an article on its own, perhaps).
But those are the days they start solving problems on their own. They notice what’s missing. They remember the next time. They build that quiet, invisible confidence that doesn’t come from me.
It comes from them.
This doesn’t mean abandoning your child to chaos. It means shifting from doing for to doing with. Sitting nearby while they pack. Asking, “What’s your plan?” Letting a low-stakes mistake happen. Allowing the extra five minutes it takes for their brain to catch up and re-route.
It’s less efficient. It’s also more sustainable.
Because the goal isn’t to have the smoothest morning today. The goal is to raise a human who can run their own morning someday, without you there.
And if we’re honest, it’s not just about them. When kids carry more of their own cognitive load, parents finally breathe a little easier. The mental tabs close. The constant anticipating softens. You’re not the household brain anymore. You’re just a parent with bandwidth to play the parent role not the household brain.
Which is already more than enough.
Parenting ADHD kids isn’t chaos.
It’s brain science you haven’t been taught yet.



"You’re just a parent with bandwidth to play the parent role not the household brain."
Guide, love, comfort is the parent role.
Explore, test limits, try and try again is the child's domain.
Cuts, scrapes, bruises may need cleaning and a plaster along with a kiss then turn them back out again, just accept them as a childhood ritual not the end of the world.
Food, routine, story time, settle in to slow the mind so they can sleep.
Questions, observations, conclusions, re-assess, investigate, learn for the child.
Nurture, supply books, supplies, toys to learn from, creating stories - get down on their level, find your inner child to join the fun.
Relax, they will make their own way cutting their own path. They may share many of your traits but they are their own human being, they are not copies of you.