As the new year begins, I’m sharing a two-part series on the motherhood lessons I’ve learned while parenting neurodiverse kids. This post is Part Two.

Parenting neurodiverse kids didn’t just change how I respond to emotions and meltdowns.
It changed how I show up in the world for my kids—and for myself.

Once I understood that my children’s behaviors were rooted in how their brains work, I realized that love alone wasn’t enough. I needed knowledge, support, and community. And I needed to be willing to speak up.

Becoming a Student of My Kids’ Brains

One of the most important shifts I made was deciding to become an expert in my kids.

I read books. I listened to podcasts. I joined parenting groups. I spent countless hours learning about autism, ADHD, OCD, giftedness, sensory needs, and stimming. I wanted to understand what was happening in their brains during meltdowns, why routines could feel non-negotiable, and why certain environments were so overwhelming.

The more I learned, the less I reacted.
Understanding replaced fear.
Knowledge gave me patience.

Learning to Advocate Without Apologizing

As my understanding grew, so did my voice.

I learned to explain my kids’ needs to the adults—and sometimes the kids—in their lives. I learned how to speak openly in both formal settings and casual conversations about what was behind certain behaviors and what support looked like for my children.

Most people want to help. They just need context. And within the boundaries my kids are comfortable with, being open about neurodiversity has helped normalize it and connect us to others walking similar paths.

Asking for Outside Help Is Not a Failure

For our family, outside support has looked like counseling at different seasons. Finding the right fit took time. It required trial and error and consistent advocacy.

Having access to parent meetings has been just as important as therapy for my kids. I’ve needed a place to talk through situations I didn’t know how to handle, get guidance, and hear reassurance that I’m doing a good job.

Support doesn’t mean weakness.
It means sustainability.

The Power of Community and Encouragement

One afternoon, while walking to a neighborhood park, my youngest had a full autistic meltdown. He sat on the grass, unable to move forward or back. I stayed with him, doing my best to help him regulate.

Across the street, a neighbor I didn’t know called out, “Good job, mama.”

That moment mattered more than she’ll ever know.

It reminded me how powerful encouragement can be. It also taught me to cheer on other parents whenever I see effort—because sometimes that’s what carries us through the hardest moments.

Choosing Compassion Again and Again

One phrase grounds me as a mom:
They are not giving me a hard time. They are having a hard time.

My kids are allowed to have emotions. Dysregulation happens. It happens to me too. When I remember that their experiences are human—even if the intensity is different—I can respond with patience instead of pressure.

Parenting neurodiverse kids has taught me to slow down, speak up, ask for help, and extend compassion freely. Not because it’s easy—but because it matters.

If you missed it, you can read Part One of this series, where I share the emotional and mindset shifts that reshaped how I parent neurodiverse kids.

If you’re looking for a Salt Lake City family photographer who understands childhood, motherhood, and the importance of a calm presence, I would love to connect. My sessions are rooted in patience, connection, and capturing your motherhood exactly as it is. Connect with me! I’d love to hear about your family.