The Parenting Course I Thought Would Destroy Me

Today me and Dave started a free 10 week SEND parenting course through Rosie’s nursery and honestly?

I nearly didn’t go.

Because the second you hear the words “parenting course” your brain instantly goes: Brilliant. Can’t wait to sit in a tiny plastic chair while somebody explains how my child’s emotional attachment to a yoghurt spoon somehow traces back to my unresolved trauma and inability to enforce bedtime.

I think a lot of parents feel like that but nobody admits it because society has made parenting weirdly performative.

Everybody’s either: “gentle parenting” “firm parenting” “crunchy parenting” or one bad morning away from hiding in the downstairs toilet eating a biscuit in silence while Bluey judges them from the background.

And honestly? SEND parenting adds a whole extra layer.

Because half the time you already feel like you’re under observation anyway.

School forms. Assessments. Meetings. Behaviour charts. Professionals watching your child while your brain quietly whispers: “please don’t think I’m failing them.”

So yeah… I walked in defensive before anyone had even spoken.

But it wasn’t like that at all.

No shame. No blame. No patronising “have you tried a routine?” energy from people who’ve clearly never negotiated with a dysregulated child wearing one sock and pure fury.

It actually felt supportive.

Like someone handing you tools instead of criticism.

And weirdly? Nobody else took the opportunity.

Which honestly shocked me because it was FREE through Rosie’s nursery.

But I genuinely think parents are terrified of anything labelled “support” because society has convinced us needing help means we’re bad parents.

When actually? The parents willing to learn are usually the ones trying the hardest.

Bad parents don’t sit through 10 week courses wondering how to better support their children emotionally. Bad parents don’t spend nights googling sensory regulation at 2am while questioning every reaction they had all day. Bad parents don’t cry because someone said: “you sound like brilliant parents.”

That nearly broke me today by the way.

Because when you live in survival mode long enough you stop seeing the good stuff completely.

You only remember: the shouting the guilt the forgotten PE kits the school phone calls the emotional explosions over toast being cut wrong the feeling that your entire household is one missing chicken nugget away from complete societal collapse

But today someone looked at me and Dave and saw effort.

Not perfection. Effort.

And honestly? That meant everything.

One of the biggest things we learnt today was starting from the bottom up.

Connection first.

Not punishment. Not controlling behaviour. Not screaming louder than the chaos.

Just connection.

So now each child gets 15 minutes a day with whichever parent they choose.

Just them.

No phones. No distractions. No pretending to listen while secretly dissociating into TikTok.

Phone OFF.

And the rule is: it can be more than 15 minutes… but never less.

That hit me hard because if I’m honest life gets noisy in this house.

Everybody talking. Everybody needing. Everybody overstimulated. Everybody emotionally buffering like an old Windows computer trying to survive 47 open tabs and a virus.

So actually intentionally stopping for 15 minutes of uninterrupted connection? It sounds small but it feels massive.

If Hunter wants to draw, we draw. If Hugo wants a walk, we walk. If Rosie wants to serve invisible soup from her toy kitchen while shouting “NO MUMMY HOT” directly into my soul for half an hour then apparently I now work full time in a pretend restaurant.

Another thing we learnt? The word “no” is basically banned unless genuinely needed.

Not because we’re raising feral woodland goblins to roam Tesco eating batteries and headbutting pensioners.

But because constant “no no no no no” creates tension before the actual issue even begins.

So now it’s: “let’s try this instead” or “after the timer.”

And honestly? Google Home is about to become our fourth child.

Timers for transitions. Timers for routines. Timers for warnings. Timers for brushing teeth before somebody collapses onto the floor like a Victorian orphan denied chimney access.

And weirdly? It all felt manageable.

Not fake Instagram parenting where everyone owns beige furniture and somehow enjoys sensory trays.

Realistic stuff. Practical stuff. Stuff that actually makes sense when your household contains ADHD, emotions, overstimulation and approximately 700 daily interruptions.

The biggest thing I left with today was this:

Support does not equal failure.

Learning does not equal weakness.

And maybe being a good parent isn’t about getting everything right.

Maybe it’s just repeatedly showing up for your children while your own nervous system hangs together with caffeine, dark humour and blind determination.

And honestly?

That sounds a lot more like us. 🌿