Self-Care

I had four days away. Four days. Not a month. Not a sabbatical. Not “I’ve moved to Ibiza and started a new life.” 😂 Just four days. And I needed them. Really needed them. I needed the break from work. I needed the break from routines. I needed the break from being the one who remembers everything, organises everything, anticipates everything and carries everything in the background. And yet preparing to go away felt like a job in itself. There was food to sort. Medication to

Sometimes it’s not the big things that exhaust me. It’s remembering everything. The appointment that needs booking. The form I still haven’t filled in. The email I need to chase. The school thing that needs sorting. The prescription. The childcare. The thing I need to remember to tell somebody when they eventually ring me back. The thing I was supposed to ring somebody else about. And somewhere in the middle of all that, somebody inevitably asks: “Mum, what’s for dinner?” Mat

I’ve been thinking for a while about speaking more openly about SEND parenting. And honestly, I’ve hesitated. Not because I don’t have anything to say. Quite the opposite. There is so much I could say. But there is a line I have always been conscious of. My child’s story belongs to him. His experiences, his challenges, his difficult moments, his diagnosis. They are not mine to turn into content. And yet, I’m beginning to realise that my experience of parenting belongs to me.

We tell overwhelmed parents to rest, exercise, talk to someone, join a support group and make time for themselves. All good advice. But sometimes we're missing a very practical question: what actually needs to be in place to make any of that possible? I believe in self-care. I believe in rest. I believe in counselling. I believe in moving our bodies, spending time with people who make us feel good, setting boundaries and creating moments where we aren't constantly giving to e