Neurodivergent dinner

Why so many mothers in leadership are raising neurospicy kids

Neurodivergent parenting doesn’t look like the parenting books. In our house, it looks like this.

Last night at 5:30 (dinner is usually at 6:00), one of my children walked into the kitchen wearing noise-canceling headphones (please don’t talk to me), heated up leftovers, and took them upstairs.

Another came home from school with a headache, vomited, and ate dinner alone in the dining room with the lights off.

The third, when called to the kitchen to make his dinner, walked around in circles, singing “Coca-Cola light, Coca-Cola normal” in Spanish and giggling because his phone’s operating system is set to Danish.

“Mom, does smoked salmon count as a dinner protein?”

Partway through the meal, he took a break to lie on the floor. Then he went to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, I FaceTimed him from the kitchen to show him that his plate and bowl were still on the counter.

“Oops. Thanks, Mom.”

Usually, my husband puts all his energy into making a family dinner. Everyone tries their best to a) stay seated and b) eat the meal. No phones allowed.

On leftover nights, however, it’s a free-for-all.

The overlap I keep noticing

It seems like a disproportionate number of mothers in leadership are navigating neurodivergence.

We give it many names. ADHD. Autism spectrum. Sensory processing. Highly sensitive. Or my new favorite, “neurospicy.”

Whatever we call it, the fact is that a lot of us are advocating for our neurodivergent children while negotiating household tasks with our neurodivergent partners and papering our mirrors, walls, and laptops with reminder Post-its to keep our own brains pointed in the right direction.

I’ve lost count of the number of mothers in leadership I know who are pursuing neuropsychological testing for their kids (we’ve done it six times for three children). Or a possible school change (four times for us). Or trying to figure out how to communicate with our child’s teachers and school administrators to support our very bright, non-mold-fitting progeny (unapologetically, I am an expert in this area).

I can’t stop reading

Graduate school, camp counseling, and classroom teaching experience did not prepare me for the screaming meltdowns of the first precious angel that I birthed. Or the food aversions of the second. Or the executive functioning collapse of the third at age eight and a half. We finally gave up trying to get any of them to wear blue jeans. To this day, all three still wear nothing but soft sweatpants.

Three books helped me early on:

• The Highly Sensitive Child by Elaine Aron

• Raising a Sensory Smart Child by Lindsey Biel and Nancy Peske

• Freeing Your Child From Anxiety by Tamar E. Chansky

No matter how much I learn, I am still confronted with new challenges every single day. I have twelve unread parenting books on the shelf next to my bed, mostly about adolescent mental health. Every time I go to the library, I go straight for the autism and ADHD section.

What I know

I don’t have all the answers. I’m not sure I have any answers. But I’ve tried a lot of things. And I will commit here to sharing what has worked (including small victories like having a child who knows that dinner includes protein!).

Because parenting is really hard.

Even for an elementary school principal with a master’s degree in education. Raised by a second-grade teacher. It’s still the most challenging work that I do.

What about you?

Are you navigating neurodivergence in your family? What resources have helped you? What do you wish more people understood?

🕊️

SAM

Uncomplicated