The bad and your parenting journey

Craving Stability but Chasing Excitement: What It’s Like Living with Autism and ADHD

Some days I wake up craving a calm, predictable day. I want to know what’s happening, when it’s happening, and exactly how it’s going to unfold. That’s the part of my brain that longs for stability — my autistic brain that finds comfort in routine, structure, and sameness.

But not long after, a different feeling kicks in.

Suddenly, I’m bored. I want something exciting. I’m daydreaming. I start three different tasks before finishing one. I get an idea for a new project at the exact moment I’m supposed to be resting.

That’s my ADHD brain — and it’s loud.

Living with both autism and ADHD (sometimes called AuDHD) often feels like my brain is having an argument with itself. One side wants order, peace, and routine. The other wants movement, creativity, and constant stimulation.

And the truth is, this constant battle between craving stability and chasing excitement can be exhausting — especially as a parent.

But the more I’ve learned to understand how my brain works, the more compassion I’ve developed for myself — and for others who might be in the same boat.

🧠 When Two Parts of Your Brain Want Different Things

Let me break it down in real-life terms.

My autistic side says, “Let’s stick to the plan. Don’t change anything. Predictability is peace.” My ADHD side says, “This is boring! Let’s do something else! Let’s reorganise the kitchen! And also, maybe start a new business!”

I’ve spent years feeling like I was failing at adulting, failing at parenting, and honestly — failing at being consistent. But I now know it’s not failure. It’s executive dysfunction, sensory overload, emotional regulation challenges — all wrapped into a beautifully complex brain.

Once I understood that my need for both structure and novelty wasn’t a contradiction but a reflection of my neurodivergence, things started to make sense.

🏡 Parenting With This Push and Pull

As a mum, this tension gets even more real.

There are times when I desperately need a quiet, calm space. But toddlers don’t exactly work on your schedule or care much for silence. Then other times, I’m craving fun and chaos and I’ll suddenly pull out every toy we own… only to feel overwhelmed five minutes later.

The back and forth can feel like emotional whiplash.

And if you’re also raising a neurodivergent child, like I am, it becomes a dance of learning each other’s rhythms, triggers, and needs — all while trying to honour your own.

It’s not easy. But it is possible. And it’s okay if your version of parenting looks different.

✅ Tips That Actually Help Me Cope

These are the strategies that help me balance the need for both routine and stimulation:

1. Build Routines with Wiggle Room

Instead of setting rigid hour-by-hour schedules, I create “anchors” for the day: breakfast, nap, bath, bedtime. These are the predictable parts. Around them, I leave space for spontaneity.

This gives my autistic side something to rely on while allowing my ADHD side the freedom to improvise.

2. Use Visuals and Lists

My brain needs to see what’s happening. I use whiteboards, colour-coded planners, and sticky notes all over the house. I often include Amelia in this — toddlers love visuals too!

3. Try Task Rotation

When I hit a wall, I allow myself to switch tasks (within reason). I rotate between mental and physical jobs — for example: 20 minutes of admin, then 10 minutes of tidying toys, then back again.

This gives my ADHD brain novelty while still getting things done — in small bursts.

4. Plan Novelty Into the Week

I used to feel guilty for getting bored of routines, but now I plan something new each week. It might be a walk somewhere different, a new book, or even a different route to the shops. Small changes scratch the itch for excitement.

5. Remember: Executive Dysfunction Isn’t Laziness

Some days I can’t get going. I can want to do the thing and still… not be able to. That’s not because I’m lazy. That’s because my brain is struggling to initiate action. On those days, I do the bare minimum and celebrate that I tried.

🫶 You’re Not Broken — You’re Learning Yourself

The world often doesn’t make space for neurodivergent people. But here’s the truth: the way your brain works is valid. Wanting stability and excitement isn’t weird — it’s actually pretty common in people with autism and ADHD.

The key isn’t choosing one or the other — it’s learning how to balance the two.

Sometimes I need quiet. Other times, I need stimulation. Some days I need the comfort of routine. Other days I need to break it.

The most important thing I’ve learned? I don’t have to apologise for it anymore.

🧩 Final Thoughts

If you relate to this — if your brain also feels like it’s fighting itself — I see you.

You’re doing your best. And that’s more than enough.

Learning to live with both autism and ADHD means rewriting the rules you were taught. It means finding your own rhythm, even if it doesn’t look like anyone else’s. It means embracing your differences as strengths — not flaws.

✨ And if you’re parenting on top of all that? You’re already a superhero.

💬 Let’s Chat

Have you experienced the battle between stability and excitement in your own brain?

Drop a comment or message me — I’d love to hear how it shows up for you.

👉 If this blog spoke to you, please like, subscribe, and share with another neurodivergent parent who might need to feel seen today.

📚 References

National Autistic Society: https://www.autism.org.uk ADHD Foundation: https://adhdfoundation.org.uk AuDHD Support Community UK Spoon Theory by Christine Miserandino: https://butyoudontlooksick.com

Are you seeking security or adventure?

Do You Have a Dog or Cat?

Today’s blog prompt is a simple question: do you have a dog or a cat? The short answer from me is… no. We don’t have any pets.

And while on the surface that might seem like a choice, the reality is a bit more frustrating. I’m allergic to both dogs and cats—which means even though I would absolutely love to have a pet, especially a dog, it’s not something that’s very practical for our household right now.

But let me tell you, if my immune system suddenly decided to behave itself, I wouldn’t just be getting a dog for the sake of it. I’d be looking into a service dog.

Why I’d Love a Dog – And Especially a Service Dog

There’s something so beautiful about the bond between a child and a dog. Dogs can teach so many values we want our children to carry with them:

🦴 Compassion

🦴 Love

🦴 Responsibility

🦴 Patience

🦴 Exercise (for both of us!)

And for families like mine, where neurodiversity is a part of daily life, dogs can provide not just companionship, but real emotional and practical support.

I’ve read so many amazing stories of service dogs helping with sensory regulation, alerting their humans to seizures, grounding them during meltdowns or moments of distress, and even helping children with additional needs feel safe and understood. The idea of having that kind of support is a powerful one.

But There’s a But…

The truth is, I don’t know if I’m physically fit enough for a dog—let alone a high-needs one like a service dog.

A few months ago, I offered to take our neighbour’s dog, Milo, around the block. I thought, “It’s just a short walk—how hard could it be?” Well… it was hard. I had Milo attached to the buggy, and he was raring to go. I, on the other hand, was doing my best just to stay upright and breathe.

By the time we’d gone once around the block, I felt utterly wiped out. My joints ached, I couldn’t keep up with his pace, and I ended up feeling disappointed in myself.

And while we’re being honest… I think I annoy my husband sometimes with how often I have to ask him to slow down when we walk. That’s what you get for marrying a marathon runner, I suppose! 😅

If I Could Choose Any Dog…

If allergies, fitness, and practicality weren’t barriers, I think I’d go for an Italian Greyhound. They’re elegant, sweet, and small enough to not overpower me.

But I also have a soft spot for retired greyhounds. There’s something noble about them. I love the idea of giving a dog a second chapter in life after racing—letting them know they’re safe, loved, and can finally rest.

Closing Thoughts

I think about pets more than people might realise. Even though it might never be a reality for us, I still hold onto the idea of it. Not just for me—but for my little girl. To grow up learning those quiet lessons only animals seem to teach so effortlessly.

For now, we’ll enjoy the dogs we get to borrow for cuddles and short visits. And who knows what the future holds?

Do You Have a Pet?

I’d love to hear about your furry family members. Have you had experience with service dogs, or retired greyhounds, or are you like me—dreaming of a pet you can’t quite have (yet)?

Let’s chat in the comments.

If you’ve enjoyed this post, don’t forget to like, subscribe, and follow my journey as I share the good, the bad, and your parenting journey—with all its ups, downs, and dog-shaped dreams.

Dogs or cats?

When Your Special Interest Takes Over Time (and You Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way)

By Laura Johnstone | The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey

Have you ever sat down for “just ten minutes” to do something you love—and then looked up and realised hours had disappeared? If you’re autistic, have ADHD (or both like me), you’ll know that feeling all too well. That magical moment when your special interest kicks in is like being transported. It’s energising, all-consuming, and honestly—one of the best feelings I know.

But it’s not just about getting stuck in; it’s about being found in something.

For me? That special interest is writing.

I Never Thought I’d Say This

I didn’t learn to read until I was 13. I struggled at school, especially with traditional expectations. English was the subject that filled me with dread. So, if you’d told me back then that one day I’d be writing books—not just one, but a whole collection—I wouldn’t have believed you.

But something changed after my daughter Amelia was born prematurely. Writing became a way to cope. It gave me a purpose, a voice, and most importantly, a way to connect with others going through similar challenges. I started writing to help other families understand the NICU, how diabetes affects people (I found this interest when studying podiatry because of the way it affects the feet), what it means to live with chronic illness, and the realities of being neurodivergent in a world that isn’t always built for us.

And once I began, I couldn’t stop. I’d write for hours without noticing the time. And while that can lead to forgetting lunch or accidentally skipping bedtime (oops), it also brings such a strong sense of joy, calm and clarity.

Hyperfocus or Heart Work?

Sometimes it feels like my brain is running on rocket fuel. Once I’m in the zone, I can’t shift gears easily. This is one of the big parts of being both autistic and ADHD—your mind latches onto something that feels just right, and time warps around you. Some might call it hyperfocus, but to me, it feels like heart work.

Whether I’m scribbling away about how to support families with disabled children, designing a campaign like Pumping for Preemies, or writing picture books to help young siblings understand hospital life, I’m in my element. These aren’t just hobbies—they’re my way of bringing light into really hard places.

But It’s Not Just About Writing

My other great love? Spending time with my people.

When I’m with my husband, daughter, or friends who get me—I get that same sense of timelessness. You know those moments when you’re laughing over a glass of wine (or a cuppa, if you’re like me), or watching your child discover something new? Hours can go by and you don’t even notice. That’s magic too.

The truth is, when you’re neurodivergent, your joy might look a little different to others. It might be intense, immersive, or totally “too much” for someone else. But that joy is real, and it’s sacred.

Finding Balance (Or Trying To)

Of course, there are times when hyperfocus can be tricky. I’ve burnt the toast, left laundry in the machine too long, or realised I haven’t messaged someone back for three days because I was deep in writing land.

But that’s also where support, boundaries, and a bit of grace come in. Having people in your life who understand how your brain works makes a huge difference. And having Amelia helps keep me grounded—even when I’m up in the clouds crafting stories or blog posts like this one.

If You’re Like Me…

If you’ve got a brain that dives deep, whether it’s into writing, art, trains, spreadsheets, Star Wars, or slime-making—please know there’s no shame in that. Your passion has a place. Your interest matters. And sometimes, what you love most can also be what helps others the most, too.

So, whether you’re someone who can get lost in your work, your family time, your creative project, or your friendships—cherish those moments. Because even when hours disappear, something meaningful is usually being created.

Call to Action:

💜 If this blog resonated with you, please like, share, or comment below. You never know who might need to hear this today. And don’t forget to subscribe to The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey for more stories, resources, and support for neurodivergent families.

References & Resources:

National Autistic Society. (2023). Understanding special interests ADHD UK. (2023). What is Hyperfocus? Bliss Charity. (2024). Supporting parents in the NICU

Which activities make you lose track of time?

What Really Bothers Me? Medical Gaslighting.

Let me tell you what really bothers me. Like, makes-my-blood-boil kind of bothers me.

Medical gaslighting.

And not just the odd misunderstanding or “hmm, let’s monitor that” — I’m talking about being outright dismissed. Being made to feel like you’re dramatic, imagining things, or wasting time. Especially when you’re chronically ill or neurodivergent.

As someone who lives with EDS (Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome), POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), coeliac disease, and suspected endometriosis, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve walked into a GP’s room or hospital department and come out feeling smaller than when I went in.

But one experience still sticks with me — and it hurts even years later.

I once went to a doctor with what I knew were signs of POTS. I had done my research, I knew my body, and I told the doctor exactly that: “I think I might have POTS.”

His response?

“Shut up. It’s so rare that it wouldn’t be that, and all your observations seem normal, so I don’t know why you’re here.”

Yep. Told to shut up. No testing, no curiosity, not even basic respect.

Even though I had passed out in hospital, and a nurse had wheeled me straight to A&E because she was worried.

Even that nurse — a medical professional herself — was brushed off.

And I didn’t go to PALS (Patient Advice and Liaison Service), because honestly? I was stunned. I froze. I felt too small and powerless. I know I’m not the only one.

Here’s the part that breaks my heart:

This isn’t rare. This is routine.

It happens to people with EDS, POTS, coeliac disease, endometriosis, fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, autism, ADHD, long COVID — the list goes on.

Especially if you’re:

A woman Neurodivergent A person of colour A young mum Or not “sick-looking enough”

EDS, for example, takes on average 13 years to diagnose. Imagine living with daily pain, fatigue, joint dislocations, digestive issues — and being told it’s in your head. That you’re anxious. That you just need to lose weight, sleep more, or “calm down.”

It’s not just dismissive.

It’s dangerous.

Because while they’re brushing you off, conditions progress. People give up. Or worse — they internalise the gaslighting and think, “maybe I am just being dramatic.”

Here’s what I wish I knew back then:

You are allowed to trust your body. You are allowed to ask for a second opinion. You are allowed to say “this doesn’t feel right.” And if a doctor ever speaks to you like that again, report it to PALS.

I now try to document symptoms. Bring someone with me to appointments. Ask for everything in writing. And when I can, I stand my ground. But I shouldn’t have to armour up just to be heard.

So if you’ve ever felt silenced, dismissed, or made to feel like your illness was your fault — I see you. I believe you. And you are not alone.

🧠 Let’s talk about this

Have you ever experienced medical gaslighting?

💬 Share your story in the comments or send me a message — your voice matters.

📩 Subscribe to my blog for more honest conversations on chronic illness, parenting, and neurodiversity.

🔁 Like and share if you know someone who needs to hear this today.

Let’s end the silence. Because you should never be told to “shut up” when you’re trying to survive.

With love,

Laura x

References / Further Reading:

POTS UK – Support and information on Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome The Ehlers-Danlos Society – Resources, research, and community Coeliac UK – Living with and managing coeliac disease Endometriosis UK – Diagnosis support and awareness NHS PALS – Support when you’ve been treated unfairly or need guidance in the health system

What bothers you and why?

10 Truths to Hold Onto – Whether You’re Neurodivergent or Just Human

There are some things I wish someone had told me years ago. Not just in passing, but in a way that made me really hear it. These are the things I’ve come to believe deeply, through therapy, community, heartbreak, healing, and a lot of reflection as a neurodivergent mum. Whether you’re autistic, have ADHD, dyslexia, or you’re navigating this world with or without a diagnosis — these truths are for all of us.

1. You Deserve Love — All Types of Love

Love isn’t just romance. In fact, some of the most profound forms of love have nothing to do with romance at all. There’s:

Self-love – the foundation. This isn’t spa days and bubble baths (though they’re great). It’s setting boundaries, saying no, and reminding yourself you’re enough as you are. Familial love – chosen or biological, these are the people who hold space for you. Platonic love – friends who feel like home, who see the messy parts of you and stay. Community love – the knowing nod from someone who’s been through it too. Unconditional love – which sometimes we give more freely to others than to ourselves.

All of these are essential. They ground us. They build us. And no matter what you’ve been told or made to feel, you deserve every single one of them.

2. Therapy Is Not Weakness – It’s Strength

I used to think needing help meant I was failing. But therapy helped me find myself again. Especially if you’re neurodivergent, a space where you’re not masking, not being “too much,” and can unpack life at your pace is powerful. You don’t have to be at crisis point to go. Therapy isn’t just for when everything falls apart — it’s also where we learn how to not fall apart next time.

3. Lean on Community

Sometimes we isolate ourselves because we think we’re “too different.” But connection doesn’t always mean big social groups — it could be one other person who gets it. Online spaces, local groups, WhatsApp chats — they all count. Finding your people changes everything.

4. You Are Not a Burden (Even if you still feel like one sometimes)

This one… I’m still working on. When you need more rest, more reassurance, or just “more” than others, it’s easy to fall into the trap of feeling like you’re too much. You are not a burden. You are a person with needs, and that is human. Full stop.

5. Connection Is Vital

Humans are wired for connection. Even the most introverted among us need it. Especially if you’re navigating the world differently, it’s easy to think solitude is safer — and sometimes it is. But don’t forget to reach out now and again. Even if it’s just to say, “thinking of you.” Even if it’s just to sit quietly beside someone who gets it.

6. If You See Something Beautiful in Someone, Say It

We never know who’s hanging on by a thread. A small comment like “You’ve got such a kind energy” or “Your smile lit up the room” might seem silly in your head — but it might be the thing that helps them hold on. Tell people the good things.

7. Pay It Forward

Kindness creates ripples. If someone’s shown you love, support, or understanding, pass it on. It doesn’t have to be big — a kind word, a helping hand, a moment of patience. These things cost nothing but mean everything.

8. Don’t Give to Receive — Especially Not for Clout

This one makes me cringe. We’ve all seen those videos of someone filming themselves giving food or money to a person in need. It’s not generosity if it comes with an audience. True kindness is quiet. It’s done when nobody’s looking. If you’re giving just to post about it — you’re doing it for you, not them.

9. Some Friendships Are One-Way — And That’s Hard, But Necessary

This took me years to understand. Some people only show up when it’s convenient. Some only take and never give. Letting those friendships go isn’t cruel — it’s self-respect. You might mourn the connection, and that’s okay. But freeing yourself from energy-draining relationships makes room for true connection.

10. You Are an Incredible Person — Thank You for Being in My Circle

Seriously. You’ve made it through every tough day so far. You’re still here. Still trying. Still growing. That’s amazing. If you’re reading this, you’re part of my circle, and I’m so grateful for you.

Final Thoughts

Being neurodivergent in a neurotypical world can feel like walking through a storm without a coat. But these truths? They’re the umbrella we can share. You’re not alone. And you never have to be.

💜 Let’s lift each other up.

📣 Like what you read? Let’s keep in touch.

If this blog resonated with you, please like, comment, and subscribe to The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey. You’ll find more honest blogs, relatable stories, and practical support for neurodivergent families navigating life and parenthood.

References:

Chapman, G. (1995). The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love That Lasts. Perry, B.D., & Szalavitz, M. (2006). The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog – on the importance of connection. Gabor Maté (2021). The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness & Healing in a Toxic Culture. Ellie Middleton (2023). Unmasked – understanding neurodivergent experiences. NICE Guidelines on Mental Health: www.nice.org.uk National Autistic Society: www.autism.org.uk Mind: www.mind.org.uk

List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.

POTS Syndrome and Heat: Why They Don’t Mix – and What Happened to Me Yesterday

Right now, we’re in the middle of a heatwave here in the UK — and if you live with a chronic illness like POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), you’ll know just how unbearable that can be.

Unlike countries built for warm weather, our homes are designed to retain heat. There’s barely any air conditioning anywhere — not in shops, not in schools, and definitely not in most homes. And when the heat hangs around for a few days, our living spaces turn into ovens. It’s exhausting for anyone, but for people like me — living with POTS — it can quickly become dangerous.

What Is POTS?

POTS is a form of dysautonomia — a condition that affects the autonomic nervous system. This part of your body is meant to do things automatically like regulate your heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature. But in POTS, it doesn’t always work the way it should.

When I stand up, my heart rate shoots up by 30 beats per minute or more. My blood pressure can drop. I get dizzy, lightheaded, and sometimes feel like I’ll faint. Even on a normal day, it takes careful management to keep symptoms in check.

But throw in a heatwave? It becomes a whole new level of challenge.

Why Heat Makes POTS So Much Worse

Here’s what happens:

Your blood vessels widen in hot weather to try and cool your body. But for people with POTS, this makes it even harder to get blood back up to the brain, which means more dizziness and fainting. You sweat more, which leads to dehydration. That’s a problem for everyone, but for those of us who already need more fluids and salt than average, it can tip us into a full-blown flare. The autonomic nervous system is already struggling, and heat adds extra pressure. It can lead to overheating, brain fog, fatigue, nausea, and even blacking out. Exhaustion hits harder, and for longer. Something that feels tiring for others can wipe us out for a day (or more).

And one thing many people don’t realise is that people with POTS often need a lot more salt than the average person. Salt helps us retain fluid and maintain blood volume. But when we’re sweating more, the amount we usually take just isn’t enough.

What Happened to Me Yesterday

Yesterday, I was helping out at my husband’s running club — we were running a cake stall to raise money for a local prematurity charity. I was really looking forward to supporting such an important cause, but I knew the heat could be an issue.

So, I tried to plan ahead.

That morning, I was already starting to feel like my salt levels were low — you get to know your body when you live with POTS. So I ordered a delivery of salty snacks and electrolyte drinks to the venue, hoping they’d arrive in time to keep me stable.

I also added something for me to enjoy — a gluten-free lemon curd cake. My plan was to have a slice to help regulate my blood sugar and keep me going in the heat, then sell the rest to raise extra money.

But the delivery never came.

It was marked as “delivered,” but nothing ever showed up. And that small delivery — the one I was depending on — could have genuinely saved me from what happened next.

Without the extra salt and hydration, the heat quickly got on top of me. I became dizzy, lightheaded, and started to feel like I was going to pass out. I had to stop what I was doing. A medic was called. And there I was, sitting in the shade, trying not to faint, feeling overwhelmed and a bit heartbroken — not just because I felt awful, but because I’d really been looking forward to that slice of lemon curd cake too.

When you have a condition like POTS, you make lots of tiny plans to stay safe. And when even one of them falls through, everything can unravel. That was yesterday for me.

Parenting with a Chronic Illness in a Heatwave

Parenting is hard. Parenting while living with a chronic illness like POTS is even harder. Add a UK heatwave into the mix and it can feel near-impossible.

You still want to do the things — help at events, show up for your child, keep the house running. But sometimes your body just says “no,” and that can be hard to accept. Especially when it feels invisible to everyone else.

If you’re like me and you’re struggling in this heat, I want to say this clearly:

You are not lazy. You are not failing. You are managing something that most people never have to think about.

Be gentle with yourself. Go slow. Prioritise the things that matter most — like staying upright, hydrated, and safe.

Tips That Help Me During Hot Weather

Here are some practical things that help me manage when the weather is too hot to cope:

Electrolytes in water – Add rehydration salts or electrolyte powders to every bottle. Not just plain water. Extra salt – You’ll likely need more than usual. Crisps, salt tablets, salted popcorn — get creative. Use fans – Portable handheld ones are great. Neck fans, cooling towels, and mist sprays help too. Stay indoors during peak heat – Between 11am–3pm, if you can. Light, breathable clothes – Cotton or linen are best. Avoid anything tight. Sit down often – Break up your day. Lying down if needed is not giving up — it’s self-preservation. Listen to your body – Don’t push through when your body is waving red flags.

Final Thoughts

POTS is difficult enough to manage on a good day. Add extreme heat, and it can feel unmanageable. Yesterday reminded me just how quickly things can unravel, even when you’ve tried to plan for everything.

To anyone else struggling in this heatwave — please know you’re not alone. I see you. And I hope this blog helps you feel even a little bit more understood.

If this resonated with you, please like, share, and subscribe to stay updated on real, honest blogs about life with chronic illness, parenting, and neurodivergence.

Let’s keep showing up — in whatever way we can — even if sometimes that just means surviving the day.

References

NHS: Postural Tachycardia Syndrome (PoTS) Dysautonomia International PoTS UK STARS Charity – Heart Rhythm Alliance

Craving Stability but Chasing Excitement: What It’s Like Living with Autism and ADHD

But not long after, a different feeling kicks in.

That’s my ADHD brain — and it’s loud.

And the truth is, this constant battle between craving stability and chasing excitement can be exhausting — especially as a parent.

But the more I’ve learned to understand how my brain works, the more compassion I’ve developed for myself — and for others who might be in the same boat.

🧠 When Two Parts of Your Brain Want Different Things

Let me break it down in real-life terms.

Once I understood that my need for both structure and novelty wasn’t a contradiction but a reflection of my neurodivergence, things started to make sense.

🏡 Parenting With This Push and Pull

As a mum, this tension gets even more real.

The back and forth can feel like emotional whiplash.

And if you’re also raising a neurodivergent child, like I am, it becomes a dance of learning each other’s rhythms, triggers, and needs — all while trying to honour your own.

It’s not easy. But it is possible. And it’s okay if your version of parenting looks different.

✅ Tips That Actually Help Me Cope

These are the strategies that help me balance the need for both routine and stimulation:

1. Build Routines with Wiggle Room

Instead of setting rigid hour-by-hour schedules, I create “anchors” for the day: breakfast, nap, bath, bedtime. These are the predictable parts. Around them, I leave space for spontaneity.

This gives my autistic side something to rely on while allowing my ADHD side the freedom to improvise.

2. Use Visuals and Lists

My brain needs to see what’s happening. I use whiteboards, colour-coded planners, and sticky notes all over the house. I often include Amelia in this — toddlers love visuals too!

3. Try Task Rotation

When I hit a wall, I allow myself to switch tasks (within reason). I rotate between mental and physical jobs — for example: 20 minutes of admin, then 10 minutes of tidying toys, then back again.

This gives my ADHD brain novelty while still getting things done — in small bursts.

4. Plan Novelty Into the Week

5. Remember: Executive Dysfunction Isn’t Laziness

🫶 You’re Not Broken — You’re Learning Yourself

The key isn’t choosing one or the other — it’s learning how to balance the two.

Sometimes I need quiet. Other times, I need stimulation. Some days I need the comfort of routine. Other days I need to break it.

The most important thing I’ve learned? I don’t have to apologise for it anymore.

🧩 Final Thoughts

If you relate to this — if your brain also feels like it’s fighting itself — I see you.

You’re doing your best. And that’s more than enough.

✨ And if you’re parenting on top of all that? You’re already a superhero.

💬 Let’s Chat

Have you experienced the battle between stability and excitement in your own brain?

Drop a comment or message me — I’d love to hear how it shows up for you.

👉 If this blog spoke to you, please like, subscribe, and share with another neurodivergent parent who might need to feel seen today.

📚 References

National Autistic Society: https://www.autism.org.uk ADHD Foundation: https://adhdfoundation.org.uk AuDHD Support Community UK Spoon Theory by Christine Miserandino: https://butyoudontlooksick.com

Are you seeking security or adventure?

Why I Took a Few Days Off – And Didn’t Feel Guilty About It

It’s been a few days since I last wrote a blog. And for once, I didn’t feel guilty about it. That might not sound like much, but for me — someone who spent years masking without realising I was neurodivergent — it’s huge.

In the past, when I didn’t tick off every box on my to-do list, I’d spiral. I’d get frustrated with myself. I’d start questioning my worth and my motivation. The negative self-talk would creep in — you’re lazy, you’ve failed, you’re falling behind. And honestly, it would crush me.

But not this time.

This time, I noticed I was feeling overwhelmed. My mind felt loud and my body felt tired, and instead of pushing through like I used to, I gave myself a break. I stopped, I rested, and I didn’t write.

It wasn’t laziness. It was self-respect.

And it’s taken me years to get to this place — a place where I can recognise the signs of burnout before they hit full force and say, “Hey, you need a moment.” Especially as a neurodivergent mum, juggling everything from parenting to work to navigating sensory overwhelm, it’s not always easy to pause. But it’s essential.

The Soundtrack That Caught Me Off Guard

This morning, I had a moment that honestly floored me. I was scrolling TikTok while sipping my morning tea (my sacred few minutes of quiet before the chaos), and a familiar tune came on: “Bring It All Back” by S Club 7.

I hadn’t heard it in years, but it stopped me in my tracks. The caption read: “80s and 90s kids are listening to this now and realising the lyrics hit different.”

And wow, did they.

“Don’t stop, never give up, hold your head high and reach the top…”

It hit me deep. Because that version of me — the little girl who struggled to read, who didn’t know she was neurodivergent, who always felt like she had to work ten times harder just to keep up — she needed those words. And actually, I still do.

But I don’t hear them now as pressure to keep pushing through burnout. I hear them as gentle encouragement to keep believing in myself – even when the world feels heavy, even when I take a few days to rest.

Giving Ourselves Grace

As parents, especially those of us who are neurodiverse or parenting children who are, we often carry a heavy load. There’s the emotional labour, the admin, the sensory juggling, and the constant feeling that we should be doing more.

But here’s the truth: we are allowed to rest. Not everything has to be go-go-go. Sometimes the best thing we can do for our mental health — and for our children — is to show them what self-care looks like. Not bubble baths and candles (although I’m not knocking those), but honest rest. Saying, “I’m not okay today, and that’s okay.”

I used to think resting was a weakness. Now I know it’s a strength.

To Anyone Feeling Overwhelmed Today

If you’re reading this and feeling like you’re drowning in life’s demands, I want you to know — you’re not alone. You’re not broken. And it’s okay to stop, breathe, and take care of you.

Play that song. Cry if you need to. Drink your tea while it’s still warm. And know that the world won’t fall apart if you take a few days off.

Because when we come back — and we will — we come back with more clarity, more peace, and more kindness for ourselves.

Have you had a moment recently that made you stop and think about how far you’ve come? I’d love to hear it. Comment below, or share this post with a friend who might need to hear this today. And if this resonated with you, don’t forget to like and subscribe so you don’t miss future posts.

References:

S Club 7 – “Bring It All Back” Lyrics. Retrieved from TikTok trend, July 2025. Middleton, Ellie. Unmasked: The Guide to Being Yourself in a World That’s Trying to Make You Like Everyone Else. (For those exploring their neurodivergence journey.) Mental Health Foundation UK – Resources for burnout and emotional wellbeing.

What Are You Scared of in the Future?

Today’s prompt hit me right in the chest—what are you scared of in the future?

For me, it’s simple but deep: I’m scared that Amelia won’t be happy and fulfilled in life.

From the moment I was one day late for my period, I just knew. You know that inner whisper that says, “You’re pregnant”? That was me. But even though I already felt it, I took the test to be sure—and in that exact moment, the love I felt was overwhelming. It was instant. Fierce. Life-changing.

From that second on, I wasn’t just living for myself anymore. Everything became about this tiny human I hadn’t even met yet. It’s the kind of love that makes you completely selfless. I’d go through the most difficult parts of life 1,000 times over if it meant she didn’t have to feel hurt even once.

But of course, life doesn’t work that way.

Especially when you have a toddler—accidents happen. Scraped knees. Tantrums. Disappointments. I can’t protect her from all of it, no matter how much I want to. And that’s where the fear creeps in.

My biggest fear is that she’ll ever feel unsupported or unloved. Because let me tell you now—Amelia is the most loved child. Every inch of her is wrapped in love. Her giggles fill a room, her curious mind keeps me on my toes, and her spirit is wild and wonderful.

I hope she always knows how deeply she’s loved. I hope, as she grows, that the world sees her magic. I hope that if she needs help for her neurodiversity—whether that’s ADHD, autism, or something else—it’s given without hesitation or delay. I hope we live in a world where being neurodivergent isn’t just accepted but understood and celebrated.

But above all else?

I just hope she’s happy.

And I think that fear is stronger because of what we went through to get her here. The pregnancy wasn’t easy. Far from it. There were times where her life—and mine—were hanging in the balance. I still carry the scars, physically and emotionally. But she made it. We made it.

And when I think about that, I truly can’t imagine what it would be like if she wasn’t happy—or worse, if the unimaginable happened. I’ve seen what losing a child does to a parent. I’ve stood beside friends and families who have had to go through that pain, and it is utterly heartbreaking. It stays with you. It changes you.

That’s why my fear isn’t about her grades or career or any of the usual things. It’s about her knowing joy. Knowing love. Feeling safe and secure. Having the space to grow into the brilliant person she’s meant to be, with all of her unique strengths and quirks and spark.

That’s all I want for her. That’s what I’ll keep fighting for.

Because that’s what parents do, right? We love fiercely. We fear deeply. And we hope endlessly.

If you’re a parent who’s ever had this fear, you’re not alone.

Let’s create a world where all of our children—especially those who are neurodivergent—feel safe, seen, and loved.

💬 What’s your biggest fear for the future? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

📩 Don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe if this resonated with you—it helps more families like ours feel a little less alone.

What are you most worried about for the future?

Understanding Learning Styles and the Power of Belief in Our Children

When we talk about education, we often focus on results: grades, targets, and milestones. But as a parent—and someone who’s walked a difficult path through the education system myself—I believe what really matters is how we support children to get there. It’s not just about information. It’s about belief, encouragement, and understanding how children learn.

Why Learning Styles Matter

Not every child learns in the same way. For some, reading a textbook clicks. For others, it’s all about movement, sound, or getting hands-on. And if we keep teaching in only one way, we risk losing children who are full of potential—they just haven’t been given the right tools yet.

Here are the main learning styles:

1. Visual learners

They understand best through pictures, diagrams, colours, and visual aids. They might love mind maps or colour-coded notes.

2. Auditory learners

These children learn through sound. They benefit from discussions, repeating things aloud, music, or having information explained out loud.

3. Kinaesthetic learners

They need to move. They understand best by doing, touching, and being physically engaged. Sitting still for long periods is a struggle.

4. Reading/Writing learners

These are children who thrive with written words—reading books, writing notes, making lists, and rewriting information.

Most people are a mix of styles. The key is recognising what works best for each child—and being open to trying new methods if something doesn’t click straight away.

Learning When You’re Neurodivergent

As someone who’s neurodivergent myself, and parenting a child who may also be neurodivergent, I know how frustrating it can feel when your brain doesn’t follow the “standard” route. Traditional learning environments often don’t take into account sensory needs, focus difficulties, or processing differences.

If you’re autistic, have ADHD, dyslexia, or dyspraxia, learning isn’t just about style—it’s about support, patience, and access.

For example:

A dyslexic child may need coloured overlays, audiobooks, or extra processing time. An autistic child might find group work or noisy classrooms overwhelming, but thrive in structured, visual environments. A child with ADHD might struggle with sitting still but absorb everything when allowed to move or use fidget tools. A dyspraxic child may need tasks broken down step-by-step and benefit from physical demonstrations.

We need to stop viewing these needs as problems and start recognising them as part of the full picture of how a child learns. Different doesn’t mean less—it just means different.

Life Is a Brilliant Teacher Too

Sometimes the most powerful learning doesn’t happen in a classroom—it happens in life.

Making mistakes. Trying again. Getting something wrong and then realising what went wrong. These are the moments where growth really happens.

One thing I’ve had to learn—and now try to teach—is that mistakes are not failures. They’re stepping stones. Whether it’s through parenting, work, or relationships, life will always hand us lessons if we’re open to learning them.

And especially for neurodivergent people, whose journeys can often feel full of trial and error, it’s vital we remind ourselves and our children: making a mistake doesn’t mean you’re not smart. It just means you’re human.

Let’s stop being so afraid to get it wrong. Let’s model resilience. Let’s show our kids that bouncing back is just as important as getting it right the first time.

A Story Close to My Heart

When I was younger, one of my teachers told me I was “on a slow boat to China.” I didn’t understand exactly what it meant, but I could tell from the tone that it wasn’t said with kindness. I couldn’t read. I struggled. But instead of encouragement, I got comments that stuck with me for years.

That phrase might have faded from their memory, but it stayed with me.

It wasn’t until years later, when I had the chance to encourage others, that I truly understood the power of belief. During university, I took part in the PASS project, supporting first-year students in understanding the biomechanics of the human body. I always made sure it was fun, not monotonous, and built on listening and encouragement—because I knew how damaging it is to be made to feel like you’ll never get it.

And the truth is, I did get it. Just not in the way that was expected of me.

The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

My mum, a teacher herself, always said:

“If you treat a child like they’re going to be naughty, they will be. But if you treat them with respect and believe in them, over time, they’ll believe in themselves.”

That’s the power of the self-fulfilling prophecy. If we constantly tell a child they’re disruptive, they’ll often act out. If we label them as “lazy” or “behind,” they might internalise that as truth. But if we show them their strengths—remind them of what they’re good at, or simply that they can learn—they begin to believe it too.

For neurodivergent children, who often hear what they can’t do, this belief is life-changing. It’s about planting the seed that says, you are capable—even if the path looks different.

What Can We Do as Parents and Educators?

Notice how they learn best – Is it visual, auditory, hands-on? Adapt where you can. Create safe spaces – Allow room for quiet, movement, breaks, or sensory adjustments. Avoid negative labels – Words like “behind” or “difficult” can leave lasting scars. Encourage curiosity – Learning shouldn’t be dry and dull. Bring it to life in a way that fits the child. Celebrate effort – Not just outcomes, but the small wins along the way. Model learning from mistakes – Show them it’s okay not to get it right the first time. Work with teachers – Share what works at home and build a relationship based on mutual respect.

Final Thoughts

Learning isn’t a straight road—it’s a winding journey with bumps, pauses, and surprising discoveries. Neurodivergent learners, especially, need people in their corner. People who see their strengths and help them shape their own definition of success.

Whether it’s in a classroom, on the playground, or through life’s hard knocks—learning is everywhere. And every moment, even the messy ones, is an opportunity to grow.

💬 Call to Action

Has your child been supported through their learning differences? Or have you, like me, ever felt written off too soon? I’d love to hear your story. Share in the comments, and don’t forget to like and subscribe for more parenting reflections that blend heart and honesty.

References

Fleming, N. D. (2006). VARK Learning Styles Rosenthal, R., & Jacobson, L. (1968). Pygmalion in the Classroom Education Endowment Foundation (UK): Metacognition and Self-Regulated Learning Department for Education: Special Educational Needs and Disability Code of Practice ADHD Foundation, National Autistic Society, and British Dyslexia Association

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