The Loud Mum’s Survival Guide to Advocating for Your ADHD Kid (Without Getting Banned From the School Office… Yet)

Let’s be real: I didn’t ask for this job.

I wanted to be the mum who brought cupcakes to school, not the one memorising the SEND Code of Practice and emailing governors at 2am because my kid hasn’t had proper support in years. But here we are. Because when your child is neurodivergent, you become the admin, the expert, the emotional support animal, and the school’s least favourite email sender — all rolled into one sleep-deprived, Pepsi Max-fueled powerhouse.

And if that makes me “loud”?

Good. Turn the mic up.

🧠 First: Understanding ADHD in the Real World (Not the Leaflet Version)

ADHD isn’t just “can’t sit still” and “talks a lot.” It’s:

Meltdowns that look like rage but are really dysregulation.

Crying in frustration because they want to do the work — their brain just won’t let them.

Hating themselves for “being bad,” even though they’re doing their best.

Masking so hard at school they explode at home — and then you get the blame for the fallout.

If your child is kind, clever, emotional, chaotic, funny, stubborn, creative, sensitive, and struggles to self-regulate — it’s not your parenting. It’s not “naughtiness.” It’s ADHD. And they need support that sees the child behind the behaviour.

🏫 The School Meeting Survival Plan (with Bonus Rage Management)

Here’s what actually happens:

You sit in a meeting with people who barely know your kid, being told they’re “coping fine” because they aren’t throwing chairs.

You mention that your child sobs in your arms after school and says they “hate their brain.” Blank stares.

You ask what support is being put in place. They say, “Well, we’ve been using our usual strategies.” No specifics. No evidence.

🚨 Here’s what to do:

1. Take notes before you go. Write down what’s going on at home: sleep, food, behaviour, sibling dynamics, emotional regulation.

2. Request an agenda. If they say there isn’t one, make one. Yours can include: emotional wellbeing, sensory needs, support plans, referrals, unmet needs.

3. Ask questions they don’t like.

“Can I see the evidence you’re basing that on?”

“What does that strategy actually look like for my child?”

“How does this align with the Equality Act and reasonable adjustments?”

4. Ask for next steps. In writing. With a date.

“When will this be reviewed?”

“Who is responsible for actioning it?”

“How will I know it’s actually happening?”

💡 Write down everything immediately after. You won’t remember later, and if you need to escalate, your notes are gold.

👩‍⚕️ The CAMHS Referral Obstacle Course

Trying to get mental health support for a child with ADHD is like chasing a unicorn through a minefield — blindfolded.

You’ll hear:

“School needs to refer.”

“GP needs to refer.”

“We can’t refer until behaviour worsens.”

“Wait and see.”

Meanwhile, your child’s self-esteem crumbles, they’re being punished for things out of their control, and you’re stuck in a holding pattern made of red tape.

📌 What you can do:

Keep a detailed home behaviour diary. Note everything — meltdowns, sleep, aggression, anxiety, shutdowns, routines.

Ask the GP directly. Say: “I would like a referral to CAMHS for assessment and support. I have notes, school input, and supporting documents.”

Don’t go alone. Take someone with you who can speak if you freeze or forget something.

If they say no? Ask them to document their reason for refusal in your child’s file. Many will suddenly become more helpful.

💔 They Only See the Storm. We See the Soul.

They don’t see the child who:

Asks if they’re a “bad person” because they couldn’t sit still today.

Says sorry before they even get told off.

Can name every Pokémon but not explain how they’re feeling.

Builds worlds in Minecraft but can’t sit in circle time without panicking.

They don’t see the child who just wants to be accepted.

But we do.

And that’s why we fight.

🔥 The Loud Mum Toolkit

Here's what’s in my emotional toolbelt now:

Polite but firm emails. Starting with “Hope you’re well” but ending with “Please confirm receipt and next steps by Friday.”

Paper trail for days. Screenshots, emails, journals, reports, referrals. Organised in folders. Colour-coded if I’m feeling passive-aggressive.

Support crew. Friends who get it. Online groups. Podcasts. Crying in a WhatsApp chat at 1am. You need people who understand the invisible war you’re waging.

Loud Mum voice. Not shouting. Just refusing to be ignored. Again.

🌱 Final Words (Because We Don’t Get to Clock Off)

I know you're tired.

I know you second-guess yourself.

I know you’ve had to explain ADHD more times than you’ve had hot dinners.

And I know the world makes you feel like a “bad parent” when really, you’re the one holding everything together.

So if you’re the loud mum? Good.

Be loud. Be clear. Be annoying if that’s what it takes.

Your child is worth every uncomfortable meeting.

Every raised eyebrow.

Every moment you question whether you're doing too much.

You’re not.

You’re doing what this world won’t —

fighting for the kid everyone else misunderstood.

🧶 And if they keep trying to make you jump through hoops?

Darling, crochet a bloody noose and hang the whole damn system from it.