“I Didn’t Sign Up for This” – The Unexpected Talents of Parenting Neurodivergent Kids

When I first became a parent, I thought I was signing up for things like cuddles, bedtime stories, and adorable fridge art.

What I didn’t realise was that I was also unknowingly enrolling in a boot camp to become a highly-trained, multi-skilled, emotionally-regulated ninja with the patience of a saint (and the coffee addiction of a raccoon at 3am).

Because when you’re parenting neurodivergent kids, you don’t just become a parent.

You become a walking Swiss Army knife of unexpected talents.

Here are just a few of the magical superpowers I’ve acquired over the years - none of which were listed in any parenting book I read, by the way.

1. Sensory Detective

Is it the tag on the shirt?
The buzzing light?
The way the socks are thinking about twisting slightly to the left?
Whatever it is, I will find it. I will locate the cause of this sensory apocalypse. I’ve got a sixth sense for itchy seams and mildly offensive smells.

2. Emotional Regulation Ninja

My child is screaming because the blue cup is dirty and I offered the red one.
Am I screaming on the inside? Absolutely.
Am I outwardly calm, validating their feelings, and offering a co-regulation cuddle while breathing like a yogi on a mountaintop? Also yes.

3. Expert Negotiator

Forget hostage negotiators. I’ve convinced a child to leave the playground with nothing but a fidget and a small pack of plain salted chips.
I’ve brokered peace treaties over who gets the “crunchy” corner of the toast.
I can defuse a meltdown with the right pair of socks and a well-timed snack.
Someone get me a seat at the UN.

4. Visual Schedule Wizard

I could turn anything into a visual timetable.
We have charts for mornings, charts for outings, charts for calming down after seeing a dog walk past the window too fast.
At this point, I’m 70% magnets and laminated card.

5. Master of Non-Verbal Communication

Raised eyebrow = "Don’t even think about it."
Gentle touch on the arm = “You’re safe, I’m here.”
Carefully timed blink = “Please stop licking that.”
Words are optional. Vibes are everything.

6. Creative Chef / Snack Strategist

You haven’t lived until you’ve prepared an entire meal out of exactly three ingredients: two of which are beige and one of which is chicken nuggets.
And don’t even think about cutting the sandwich the wrong way. That’s a rookie move and we don’t make those anymore.

7. Crisis De-escalation Specialist

When things go from 0 to meltdown in 3 seconds flat, you learn to stay cool under pressure.
I can spot the micro-facial twitch that signals an impending sensory storm and redirect with the speed of a caffeine-fuelled meerkat.
We don’t panic. We pivot.

8. Unexpected Life Coach

I’m teaching my kids that it’s okay to feel, to stim, to say “no,” to rest when they’re overwhelmed.
And in doing that, I’m learning it’s okay for me too.
Funny how parenting teaches you as much as it asks of you.

Final Thoughts (Because We Know Executive Function Can Be a Bit Flimsy Sometimes)

So no, I didn’t exactly sign up for this.

I didn’t expect to become a sensory analyst, meltdown whisperer, and walking emotion-regulation manual…
But here we are. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Because this parenting gig, as messy and hard and hilarious as it is, has given me strengths I never knew I had.

To all the other neurosparkly parents out there:
You’re not just surviving.
You’re growing into someone utterly remarkable - even if your hair is a little wild and your bag is 60% fidget toys.

And if no one’s told you today?
You’re doing an incredible job.
Even when the blue cup’s in the dishwasher.

With love,
Jody x
Neurodivergent Mum of Three | Professional Snack Negotiator