About us

Welcome to Sensory Mother, a space created by a mother who understands the struggles and challenges of raising a child with autism, ADHD, and sensory processing differences. As a mother to a son with these diagnoses, I have experienced first-hand the confusion, frustration, and heartache that comes with trying to understand and support a child who sees the world differently.

With my background as a secondary school teacher and university tutor, I am passionate about educating and supporting parents who are struggling to understand their children's challenging behaviour. Through this platform, I hope to share my experiences, offer helpful tips and resources, and create a community where parents can come together to support and learn from each other. Let's embark on this journey together and celebrate the beauty and uniqueness of our children.

Let me take you from failing to flourishing! 

My backstory 

Trigger warning - this might be a hard read, it's been a hard write.

My journey began when my son started school, up until that point there had been no specific markers or 'red flags'.  He started to present with these huge explosive outbursts at home.  We had never really had the 'terrible twos' or 'terrible threes' with him, he'd been a really calm and placid toddler, always happy and playful.  What we were seeing were like toddler tantrums, it didn't make sense as he had never been like this before.  

He became extremely volatile, with the outbursts becoming increasingly 'explosive' and more and more frequent over the next two years (starting in reception but really becoming alarming in yr1).  I reached out to school for help but they saw no evidence, and sent me on various parenting courses where I could learn about child brain development (yes, I was a teacher, I'd kind of covered this in my 10 years of professional work). 

School wasn't the only one who saw no evidence.  Nobody did.  It was all happening at home.  It became the norm for me to hear "oh I just can't imagine it, he's never done that for me" and all iterations of that phrase that remained burned into my brain for a very long time. 

With my background as a secondary school teacher I already had a wealth of knowledge and experience in working with children with challenging behaviors and all of my best tried and tested strategies just weren't working with my own son. Rewards charts, withdrawing toys, time outs, more 'connection' time, less 'connection time'.... 

We engaged in family therapy, looked into separation anxiety, bought every parenting book, signed up to every webinar going and even spent 100s of pounds on parenting programmes designed around positive discipline.

Nothing was working.  Everything was failing.  I was failing.  

But (don't forget) nobody else saw any evidence.  This was only happening at home.  I had translated that to mean home was a place of disrespect and disregard.  As a teacher that was so hard to take.  I was literally living with behaviour I would NEVER tolerate in my own classroom.  But I couldn't do anything about it.  

But nobody else saw.  This was all us.  We were failing.  I was failing.

What followed was a very difficult time for us as a family.  Referral after referral, forms to fill in on a dialy basis, meetings to attend with education psychologists, therapists, pediatricians, local authority.   When his diagnosis came it didn't change anything of course.  We were sent our letter and discharged.  Told to go on some training programmes which were either day time (hello full time job) or evening (hello worst time of the day for any family never mind a neurodivergent one).  His Education Health Care Plan (EHCP) came through but wasn't fit for purpose, another battle to have that reviewed.  Adjustments in school weren't put in place - more battles.  Everything was a battle.  And whilst I was battling with every one and everything for him, he was battling with me more and more.   

At this point it felt like an abusive relationship.  I confided in those closest to me that if my husband had been treating me the way my son was, I would have left the relationship years ago.  But I couldn't.  And nobody else saw.   The outbursts (which by now, of course, I had learned were known as meltdowns) became continual.  From the moment he opened his eyes until we stepped out of the car outside school, and then again from the moment we closed the car door until he finally went to bed.  All weekend, all school holidays.  We were walking on eggshells permanently, everything would trigger an explosion in him.  I'd seek opportunities for us to be with other people as he wouldn't behave that way in front of them, but he'd store it all up for us and we'd have it worse when we got home.  I started sending him to my parents for the weekend to give me some respite, but as soon as I picked him up again on Sunday night a meltdown would begin and any relief I'd felt from my break would vanish.  In the end, it wasn't worth the come down. 

I had no mental capacity to do anything other than just get through each day.  By the time I got him to school in the morning I felt completely depleted.  It wasn't unusual for me to be sobbing outside the school gate with teachers or parent friends trying to comfort me.  BUT NOBODY ELSE SAW.  It had started to affect my work, I was barely keeping afloat and eventually the doctor signed me off.  I hit rock bottom. 

That's when I really delved into my education journey.  I attended courses, I did tonnes of reading.  I met other parents who were in the same boat.  It helped.  I felt seen and heard.  Nobody was doubting me.  Nobody was blaming me.  And in that space I didn't blame myself either.

During that time I was able to learn about myself, my triggers, and how I was unconsciously adding to the trauma we were all going through.  I was able to reflect and make changes.  I was able to fully understand what was going on for him and what his behaviour was telling me.  I was able to identify that school was not the right place for him, and was able to negotiate a move to a new one that more fully met his needs.  I was able to make changes to our life as a family.  Learning about sensory processing was a turning point in my learning journey and has been one of the major factors in supporting my son's progression.  

I returned to work and took on a new role supporting neurodivergent university students, helping them to better understand themselves, to feel validated and to be able to advocate for their needs without feeling judged.  I began teaching about sensory processing, I set up a sensory room and support students to build their own sensory diet to help them to stay regulated.  I am also now teaching undergraduate and postgraduate students as part of the Special Educational Needs and Disability Studies team.  

Through education, I have been able to turn around my family's life as well as my own career!  

I truly believe that I have gone from failing to flourishing and feel passionate about helping others do the same!