I Don't Always Follow My Own SEN Parenting Advice

I spent nine years working as a SEN teacher before moving to the UK. I've studied the strategies, used them with my students, seen them work, and spent years helping parents support their children.

And yet, here I am, raising a child with ADHD, regularly finding myself in situations where I know EXACTLY what I should be doing... but I often don't manage to do it 🤭

I think that's something we need to talk about more.

Because there's a huge difference between understanding a strategy and being able to use it when you're tired, overwhelmed, running late, or simply having a really difficult day yourself.

Co-regulation sounds simple. Until you're dysregulated too.

If you've followed Thrive for a while, you'll know how strongly I believe in co-regulation. The idea is that children often need us to help them regulate their emotions before they're able to do it independently. We stay calm, offer reassurance, create safety, and help them work through those big feelings.

And it really works! I've seen it work with Devan, time and time again.

But here's the part I struggle with: How am I supposed to help my child regulate when I'm struggling to regulate myself?

Lately, between working two jobs, preparing for our move back to South Africa, running Thrive and everything else that comes with family life, I often feel like I'm running on very little capacity. And when I'm already overstimulated, stressed or anxious, it doesn't take much for my own emotions to start bubbling over.

I know Devan needs me to be calm. I WANT to be calm. But sometimes, I'm just not there.

Let me tell you about our mornings...

One of our biggest challenges lately has been getting Devan to take his ADHD medication. He really doesn't like the taste, and most mornings the whole thing becomes quite a performance. There's dancing around, avoiding it, panicking about taking it, and a lot of convincing needed before we get anywhere.

Meanwhile, I'm watching the clock. I still need to get the kids to school, get myself to the office, and somehow arrive at work relatively on time. I'm already feeling rushed. I'm worrying about being late. And I'm trying desperately to keep the morning from turning into a battle.

So I stay calm.

And I stay calm.

And I keep trying.

Until I can't anymore.

I get frustrated. I raise my voice. And suddenly I'm doing the very thing I know isn't going to help the situation.

Sometimes I recognise where things are heading and ask Ant to take over. Other times, we muddle through until Devan eventually manages to take his medication. And then something interesting happens.

The tension disappears almost immediately.

Devan apologises. I apologise too. I tell him I'm sorry I shouted, that I was trying to stay calm but was feeling stressed about getting to work. He tells me he's sorry for making such a fuss. We hug, and just like that, we're okay again.

Until possibly the next morning, when we get to practise the whole thing all over again 🙈

I'm not sharing this because I think raising my voice is the right response. I know it isn't. And I'm really not proud of these moments. But I'm sharing it because knowing better doesn't mean I always manage better. And I suspect I'm not the only parent who feels that way.

Sometimes I catch myself doing it in the middle of a meltdown too

Another thing I know, both professionally and personally, is that trying to reason with a child in the middle of a meltdown isn't going to get you very far. When Devan is completely overwhelmed, he's not in a place where he can properly listen to explanations, process consequences, or have a conversation about what he could have done differently.

That conversation needs to happen later, when he's calm and able to engage. I know this. And yet, there are moments when I find myself wanting to explain things to him right there and then. Why he shouldn't have reacted that way. What he could have done instead. Why something wasn't worth getting so upset about.

Then I catch myself. Because I KNOW he's not going to be able to take any of that in at that moment. So I stop. I hold onto what I want to say and remind myself that we can talk about it afterwards.

It doesn't mean the frustration magically disappears. It just means I'm learning to recognise when my own response isn't going to help. And honestly, that takes loads of practice too.

What actually helps me?

I wish I could tell you I have some wonderful strategy that works every single time. Unfortunately, I don't 😂 But one thing I do try to do when I feel myself becoming overwhelmed is close my eyes for a moment and take a few deep breaths.

I know. It sounds like the most cliché advice in the world. But sometimes, just stepping out of the moment for a few seconds is enough to stop me from reacting immediately.

Sometimes it works beautifully. Other times, it barely makes a difference. And sometimes I only remember to do it after I've already become frustrated.

But I keep trying. Because I also think there's value in Devan seeing me make that effort. I don't need him to believe that adults never get frustrated or overwhelmed. I want him to see that we experience those feelings too, and that we're responsible for how we respond to them. And when we don't get it right, we can acknowledge it, apologise and try again.

That doesn't undo a difficult moment, but it gives us somewhere to start.

Why I give advice, but I never preach

One thing that's become very clear to me since becoming a SEN parent is that professional knowledge doesn't make parenting easy.

It's one thing to support a child when you're working in a professional capacity. It's another thing entirely when it's your own child, you're emotionally invested, you're exhausted, the house is chaotic, and you have about fifteen other things demanding your attention.

That's why, when I share strategies through Thrive, I never want them to come across as instructions from someone who has it all figured out. Because I haven't.

I can share what I've learnt, what I've seen work, and what has helped our family. But I also know how difficult those strategies can be to put into practice consistently. Even when you believe in them wholeheartedly.

And that's okay.

It doesn't mean the strategies are wrong. It doesn't mean you've failed because you couldn't use one in a particular moment. It means you're human.

We're learning too

We spend so much time thinking about the skills we want our children to develop. Emotional regulation. Communication. Coping with frustration. Recognising when they need help.

But sometimes I think we forget that we're still developing those skills ourselves. I'm still learning how to manage my own frustration. I'm still learning when to step away. I'm still learning how to pause before reacting, and how to recognise when I'm simply too overwhelmed to offer Devan what he needs in that moment.

If there's one thing I hope you take away from this, it's that you don't have to get every response right to be a parent who's trying to do right by their child.

We can take responsibility for the moments we get wrong without beating ourselves up over them. We can apologise. We can reflect. We can try something different next time. And sometimes, we can simply acknowledge that today was hard.

Our children are learning how to navigate their emotions. So are we.