An Unexpected Act of Kindness That Made My Day

Some of the most meaningful moments in parenting don’t arrive with fanfare. They show up during the everyday: in lunchboxes packed, battles avoided, deep breaths taken - or in our case, a simple afternoon at McDonald's.

We were waiting for the kids’ ice creams to arrive when Alyssa and Devan wandered over to the little game screens to play. A toddler - no older than two - toddled over and saw that there weren’t any screens left. Without a word, Devan stood up, stepped aside, and let her have his. No eye-rolls. No prompting. No fuss. He walked back to the table where Anthony and I were sitting and just… carried on.

The little girl’s mum brought her over to say thank you. They both kind of stared at each other - classic kid awkwardness - and Devan looked puzzled that we were making a fuss. But we were. Because it mattered.

This is the same child who argues with his twin sister over who gets more space under a blanket in the middle of summer (seriously). The same child who feels things deeply, gets easily frustrated, and finds it hard to share when emotions are running high. So this simple, unprompted act of kindness? It was massive for us. Not because it made him look good - but because it showed growth. Self-regulation. Empathy. A moment where he chose to do something kind when he wasn't asked to and didn’t have to.

We told him how proud we were. We let him share some of our drink (we’d only allowed water because of the ice cream - but hey, this moment called for celebration). He didn’t need a trophy. He just needed to know that we saw it.

What Counts as a “Win”?

There’s often pressure to only mark the big stuff: the awards, the breakthroughs, the behaviour charts with stars all the way across. But when you’re raising a neurodivergent child - or any child navigating the world with intensity, sensitivity, or high needs - those aren’t the only markers that matter.

Sometimes, the biggest wins are:

• Saying sorry without being told to
• Taking a deep breath instead of shouting
• Trying a new food after weeks of "no"
• Letting someone else go first
• Walking away before losing control

And sometimes, it’s just making it through a day that would’ve broken you six months ago.

How We Celebrate in Our Family

We’ve learned to mark progress in ways that feel right for us. Almost always it's with a giant cuddle (we love those). Often it's with a gentle "I saw what you did, that was amazing". Sometimes it's with an extra few minutes of screen time.

I also do my best to write it down in my journal - not to track it like a checklist, but to remember that it happened. Especially when I need the reminder on the hard days.

We're not trying to be performative. We're trying to be connective. To say, "I see you. I see how hard that was. And I’m proud."

Shifting Our Own Lens

Celebrating small wins isn’t just about our kids - it’s about us, too.

Many of us were raised in systems that valued perfection, achievement, gold stars. So when our kids don’t fit that mould, we might struggle to notice their growth unless it’s loud and obvious. I’m still working on rewiring that instinct.

But this I know: when we start to look for progress - not perfection - we find it. And when we name it, our kids start to see it too. It becomes part of how they view themselves: I’m someone who is growing. I’m capable. I’m doing better.

A Gentle Reminder

This is your reminder to look for the good. Not because you’ve been ignoring it - but because it's important to recognise it alongside the hard stuff that we tend to see more easily (unfortunately).

That moment in McDonald's? It wasn’t invisible. But it was easy to miss, if we’d been focused on the next thing. I’m so glad we didn’t.

So here’s to the wins that feel small to the outside world but huge to us. To the moments that remind us: our kids are doing their best. And so are we.

Because sometimes, an unexpected act of kindness really can make your whole day.