Should I Buy the 12-Pack? An ADHD Deep Dive into Photo Credits and Existential Parenting

All I wanted to do was buy a couple of extra photo credits. You know, one of those low-stakes parenting decisions. No drama. Quick scroll, click, done. But instead, I found myself in a deep and thoughtful analysis complete with regret forecasting, memory preservation urgency, and minor existential dread. So… classic Tuesday.

It started with Pop-in Portraits. (Not sponsored. Just the current setting for my decision paralysis.) Each session includes one free photo, and I always end up wanting one or two more. The bundles are simple enough: 3 for $60, 6 for $100, 12 for $160. But somehow, my brain turned it into the equivalent of choosing a mortgage.

The ADHD Money Spiral, Live from My Lounge

• “$13.33 per photo if I get 12… that’s good. But what if I don’t use them all?”
• “But I probably will use them… my daughter will need photos, and I keep saying I’ll get a family one.”
• “What if the photographer moves to Portugal?”
• “What if my son wants his own session? Is that weird? Is he too old?”
• “Am I being ridiculous? Probably.”
• “But I’ll definitely regret not having the photos.”

I did the math like I was pitching to investors. I created a mental spreadsheet. I imagined future me crying in 2037 because I didn’t buy the photo where my daughter blinked but somehow looked heartbreakingly adorable. I considered starting a pros and cons list. I may have considered making a pie chart.

And this isn’t just about photos. It’s about trusting myself to make a decision I won’t regret. ADHD brains hate that kind of commitment. Especially when the outcome is tied to emotion. Or memory. Or spending money on anything that isn’t a guaranteed dopamine hit right now.

Also: getting the kids to the session is a whole separate operation.

My daughter almost refused to go last time. my son’s hair always does a rogue wave thing. It’s not just “turn up and smile.” It’s a full logistics and emotional energy mission, which means even putting “book next photo session” on a to-do list can trigger me. And yet—I want these memories. I know how fleeting they are.

Honestly, I think the Pop-in setup is probably easier for both ADHD kids and ADHD parents. It’s short, familiar, and low-pressure. No 45-minute sessions with props and multiple outfit changes. Just show up, blink, smile (or don’t), and leave. For a neurodivergent family? That’s a win.

I also get a kind of photo anxiety—not about being in the photo, but the pressure to make it count. To get the timing right, the outfits right, the moods right. There’s this feeling that if we mess it up, we’ve wasted the moment. That pressure? It’s exhausting before we’ve even walked in.

To make it even trickier, we haven’t had family photos on display in years. Between renting, moving, and selling a house overseas, our walls have stayed blank. Most of our photos are scattered across clouds, phones, tablets, and USBs like digital breadcrumbs. One day I’d love to consolidate them—maybe even get a digital frame so we can actually see them again. But in the meantime, I’m looking forward to finally putting some up when we move. It feels like time.

So yeah. I bought the 12-pack.

It must be quite calm for people who don’t do this level of internal analysis before making a decision. Lucky them. But honestly, this kind of detailed thinking has served me well in bigger, more complex situations. So I’ll take the occasional photo credit deep-dive in exchange for the clarity it gives me when it really counts.

Because I only need to use 9 to make it worthwhile. Because I always want more than one photo. Because I know myself. Because I don’t want to be the person who hesitated over $13.33 and lost a memory.

And because, quite frankly, I’ve accepted that every tiny decision in my life has the potential to become a blog post.

If you’ve ever taken three days to choose a shampoo or mapped out your entire emotional future based on whether or not you should buy the larger coffee… you’re not alone. And if you’re also trying to do that while parenting, masking, managing money, and staying vaguely functional—welcome. You’ve found your people.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have 12 photo credits to justify, two chaotic kids to wrangle, and at least one framed picture in my hallway to cry in front of by 2037.

(Here’s the link to Pop-in Portraits if you want to deep-dive into photo credit decisions too. No judgment.)

Want more real-life ADHD parenting moments and honest reflections like this? Browse the full blog here.