My plate has become a little too full
Everything was slotting into place: my son was happier, we had a plan for September and we would be reunited as a family. But then another dish was added to my plate and it started to crack.
Having a neurodivergent child, especially one who is at home with you full-time, because school is too distressing for them, can make life feel quite precarious.
You make constant tweaks and adjustments, to see if you can help them to recover from burnout and trauma but a wrong move can mean a step, or several steps, back.
You listen, and add in whatever they are asking for, hoping that letting them lead - giving them back some power - might mean they find a good path, for them.
You don’t know what the path is (specialist school? Home-ed? Mainstream? EOTAS? Democratic learning?) but you hope that it will all start to come together.
The precariousness comes from not knowing when this might happen, or indeed, if it will. So you keep thinking, researching, suggesting, giving time and space.
You don’t know what the future holds for your child.
We never do, really, but there is a different kind of uncertainty when a child has special educational needs (SEN) and finds mainstream school unmanageable.
All this will be alongside your career, potentially a marriage or relationship, possibly other children, trying to maintain friendships and your wellbeing.
I know of marriages that have broken down under the pressure of caring for a child who is being let down by the system. It is so sad, when this is the reason.
And I know of many women who have forfeited their careers to care full-time for a child who can’t cope with school, because they don’t see another option.
At points, I have wondered if I will become one of these women. But for my own reasons, I know that I won’t.
And so I continue to write around the edges of motherhood, as I have since the first of my three babies was born 10 years ago, and to earn a living from my words.
I feel lucky that I can make this work. It’s not always easy but it is possible and I enjoy my work.
However, if one new challenge is heaped on my plate, it starts to feel like it might crack under the weight.
That’s what happened this week.
I thought we were moving towards some peace and simplicity but instead, I’ve been thrown into a tornado of paperwork, logistics, planning and waiting.
I have all three kids at home for another week or so, and I’m trying to balance caring for them, working and sorting out our ‘home’ situation.
Some nights, I wake at 1am and can’t sleep until 4am. I lie there saying: it’s all going to be ok. And I pray to my form of ‘God’. I think of all that I’m grateful for.
And there’s lots: we have support, we’re financially stable, we are all generally healthy. All will be ok.
But this additional challenge has, at times, made me feel I’m veering ever-so-slightly into a kind of sleep-deprived madness.
And that’s the ‘crack’.
It’s when I start to feel there’s too much on my plate and I’m not sure I can cope.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the plate, holding my children and their varying needs. If I crack, they slip through; needs now left unmet.
I can’t crack.
And so I’ll continue on. Sort out the big stuff. Pluck an hour here; half and hour there to write. Ask for, and accept, help wherever I can.
I’m using the special hand-soap and spending a moment sniffing my palms; slathering on lavender hand cream; looking at the deep pink sunset.
I’m finding moments of calm and kindness in amongst the storm.
I don’t want to write gloomy content but in this space - raising neurodivergence - I also don’t want to slip into some glossy faux-positivity stream.
Glossing over does not help, it’s all still there under the surface, waiting to spurt up as rashes, chronic illness or burnout.
So, I think it’s better to be honest about how you’re feeling, while also looking for those tiny moments of beauty and joy.
We had one, around the dinner table last night.
We’d spent almost the entire day at home, as I needed to do paperwork.
My three children entertained themselves by smashing water balloons in the paddling pool and eating way too many biscuits.
Come 5pm, it was time for me to stop. I closed the laptop, cooked some pasta, chopped carrots up and splayed them around a plate, poured water into glasses.
I sat with my three kids and told them about when I travelled around Eastern Europe and got in a situation with jackals coming down from the mountains.
They love these stories; they love being together. I love the simplicity of a bowl of pasta, a glass of water and seeing my children’s sweet faces as they gasp and smile.
I am shifting between serenity and wild woman quite often, at the moment, but I’m learning that that’s ok. The highs; the lows; the drama; the calm.
Words help me to process everything and to pluck out the beauty. Also, it’s how I connect with others who are ‘in it’ - and those who aren’t, but care.
So, I continue to write.
I hope to help other women to feel less alone when their own plates are feeling way too heavy. You’re not alone. There are many of us; way too many.
Sending you love and solidarity and I hope your plate soon becomes a little lighter.
Annie x
Thanks for writing this Annie. I can completely resonate with this. I think my full plate has tipped into burnout again. This summer has been incredibly hard. As well as being a neurodivergent family, I'm navigating mid life challenges of menopause and (very likely neurodivergent... but we cannot go there) parents and a partner with chronic illnesses. It's hard to know how much to write about it without passing on my misery! It's good to have supportive communities and I guess what I'm acknowledging here is as neurodivergent woman, I'm not only raising neurodivergence I am caring for it across generations. I know I will find time to put my oxygen mask back on and it's comforting to know that we can talk about our full plates in supportive communities.
Yes 🙌🏼 everything feels so fragile and uncertain whilst also trying to hold it together as you are their bellwether of some sorts AND trying to find the positives and perspective just all of it all of the time 🫠🥰