Carving Out My Legacy (Literally)

When I was about eleven, I was camped out in my parents’ home office, the phone cord wrapped around my fingers (because, yes, this was the corded phone/land line era), deep in conversation with my best friend about Halloween costumes. We were in the zone, plotting themes, accessories, and how to win this year’s school costume contest.

Somewhere in the middle of this very important strategy session, my hands, apparently acting on their own, picked up a pair of scissors and started carving a design into my parents’ beautiful cherrywood desk. I was completely unaware.

My mom walked in mid-carve. Her voice went full shrill:

“WHAT are you doing?!”

I looked down. Scissors in hand. Wood shavings everywhere. It was like waking up in the middle of a crime I did not remember committing. I was not trying to lie. I genuinely did not remember doing it. I apologized, promised to stop, and privately wondered where my brain had been. (Spoiler: ADHD. Undiagnosed at that time, but definitely there.)

My mom forgave me, though she did throw in a line about karma and joked,  “just wait until your kids do something like this to you.”

She was not wrong.

The Prophecy Fulfilled

Fast forward a few decades. I walked into my 9-year-old son’s room to find two pieces of solid wood furniture freshly engraved. One featured a diamond shape. The other displayed his sister’s name, spelled incorrectly.

When confronted, he immediately blamed his sister.

“She knows how to spell her name,” I pointed out.
He stuck to the story anyway.

And now, present day. We recently moved, and I bought a new makeup vanity. It is not heirloom furniture, more like Wayfair “some assembly required,” but it was pristine.

Until today.

Right in the middle of the surface, I found a tiny, perfectly carved happy face. I did not need to launch an investigation. It had “Honeybadger” written all over it, my youngest child, our family’s reigning ADHD champion. She has been responsible for plenty of household chaos over the years. (Notable past defense: “The Easter Bunny did it.”) But carving was a new frontier.

I looked at that smiley face and, instead of the usual spike of frustration, I laughed.

Because this was it. The prophecy was fulfilled. My mom’s cherrywood desk, reincarnated first as some bedroom furniture in my son’s bedroom and now, in a cheap vanity with a cheerful little face carved into it.

Understanding ADHD Behaviors

If you are not living inside an ADHD brain, these kinds of behaviors can seem baffling. Why would someone just... start carving furniture mid-conversation? Excellent question.

For many ADHDers, behaviors like this often fall into two overlapping categories: sensory seeking and dissociation.

Sensory seeking is exactly what it sounds like. The brain is hungry for stimulation, and it goes looking for it in the nearest available form. For some kids, that might mean doodling on their homework, tapping pencils, picking at paint, or chewing on sleeves. For me at age eleven, it was quietly etching a design into cherrywood. For my kids, it has shown up as carving smiley faces, fiddling with anything within reach, or turning the kitchen into a percussion section. It is not about malice. It is about regulation. The physical sensation provides a little dopamine bump, and their brains instinctively follow that trail.

Dissociation is the other piece of the puzzle. ADHD brains can slip into what I think of as “background mode.” On the outside, the child may look present and engaged. Internally, their mind is somewhere entirely different. This is why I truly had no memory of carving that desk. My body was there, but my brain was deep in Halloween strategy. It is surprisingly common for ADHDers to do something absentmindedly and only “come to” when the evidence is right in front of them. Scissors in hand. Wood shavings everywhere.

When you combine sensory seeking and dissociation, you get a perfect storm of “Wait... how did this happen?” moments. These explanations do not excuse the behavior, but they do help make sense of it. And when we understand the why, it often softens our frustration and allows us to respond with more clarity.

Accountability Without Punishment

It is important to clarify that while these patterns explain why behaviors like carving into furniture happen, they do not excuse them. Kids, including and perhaps especially ADHD kids, still need to learn to take responsibility for their actions and mistakes. Accountability is a critical life skill.

This does not mean harsh punishments. At The 3D Parent, once we as parents regain our sense of direction and make sense of behaviors, it is a core value to approach discipline with dignity. In situations like these, applying discipline with dignity means using logical consequences that are created in collaboration with your child. Follow your child's instincts and ask, “What do you think you could do to make things right?” The solutions they come up with are their own ways of making amends and are far more meaningful than imposed consequences ( punishments), especially those that are unrelated to the original mistake. This approach reinforces responsibility while maintaining connection and dignity on both sides.

The Punchline

Life with ADHD kids is full of moments like this. Equal parts baffling, infuriating, and unexpectedly funny. You can fight every one of them, or you can pick a few to just... laugh at.

Today, I laughed. Tomorrow, I will deal with the happy face culprit.