"Your life is harder than most"

Take this honest perspective today and set your course to build the life you’ve secretly always wanted 🥰

As a neurodivergent family, it can feel frustrating how easily we get derailed by even the smallest deviation from routine. 

I’m typing with my shoulders hunched up and the edge of my desk digging into my forearms. Each time I sit at my desk, I try to pull out a phantom keyboard that is decidedly no longer there.

Because this morning, somehow, one of my kids broke my entire keyboard drawer off my desk. 

I walked out of the room to stir the eggs, and then…CRASH! 

And that cry when you know something is really wrong. I raced back in expecting to see my desk chair toppled over on someone and was already wondering how they managed to tip it over as heavy as it is. 

Instead, I was surprised to see the keyboard, keyboard tray, and the child sobbing in a heap on the floor because it’d all fallen on our little 17 ½-year-old pup who, if I’m honest, is only hanging on for dear life these days. 

Thankfully, our furry friend was just fine and seemed happy enough to be scooped up and showered with love. 

But I think the morning really went sideways because of a mistake I made. 

Or maybe it was just another mistake in a long succession of missteps. (Besides passing my crazy genes onto my poor children.) 😅

There’s a writing community I’m a part of that’s based in the UK, and I rarely get to watch the workshops live. 

But this morning, one was scheduled at 6 am in our time zone, and it was just too tempting not to watch it. 

So I popped my headphones on while distributing meds and prepping breakfast to listen in. 

And when my little one came in and demanded I take them off, I should have heeded the warning. 

I know that multitasking puts my brain into stress mode. And that isn’t the place I will ever do my best parenting from. 

Add to that the fact that my husband is traveling for work, which makes our little one feel even that much less secure in the world. Plus, he’s ever so helpful, so when he’s gone, we have a few extra chores to contend with before pulling out of the driveway for school which none of us handle well. 

Then, there’s the decision I made to take our oldest to youth group last night, which made us all late to bed after picking him up. 

I skipped going to our church small group, knowing I’d need all the extra energy I could get to make it through, but it wasn’t enough. 

Less sleep. 

A change in routine. 

Split attention.

We all slipped into a ridiculous scene of stress, snippiness, and hurt feelings from there. 

All the while, it felt like slow motion.

I could see it happening. 

I could hear the irritation in my voice as I urged my kids through the morning routine. The way they snapped and shouted at one another, slamming doors and taking everything in the worst light.

Each figurative blow looked like a shock of lightning in my brain, and I could feel my breath quicken and my heart space ratchet down a size or two as fight-or-flight took hold. 

I wanted to explain to my dear children that I felt frazzled because Daddy was gone and I’m tired and I was trying to do too many things at once and I love them. That I know they’re just sleep deprived and this is hard. 

And if I could’ve got hold of the words, I would have. 

Instead, I hid in the car while I finished my breakfast. 

I gave them quiet on the way to school until their stormy faces turned sunshiny again and we started naming all the fluffy things they love. (Dogs, cats, guinea pigs, clouds, marshmallows.) 

When I dropped them off, I stopped each of them in their rush out the door as I always do, looked at them in their gorgeous green eyeballs, and said, “I love you.” 

They are ok; I am ok. 

But sometimes it feels so frustrating that…

No matter how much I submit to our need to simplify, our fragile nervous systems demand more, more, more. 

More rest. 

More downtime. 

More quiet. 

Or maybe less? 

Less missed sleep.

Fewer outings and gatherings. 

Fewer changes in routine. 

Less – fun?

The truth is that as a family with at least three of four neurodivergent members, our capacity is smaller than what the typical family could handle. 

The tiniest of extra demands that would be imperceptible to most people can throw our sensitive brains into a tizzy. Meanwhile, doing just the basic tasks of daily living can take longer and be more exhausting for us. 

And it’s all too easy for us to get caught in a feedback loop of stress as we successively trigger one another’s stress response. 

In addition, I have to remind myself that even neurotypical families today are overstretched, too busy, and exhausted. 

It seems even they are not immune to trying to do too much. 

But still, sometimes I hate to have to say no to so many things. 

I can so easily squash myself under the mountain of “shoulds” that I’m forgoing.

And it’s even worse when even good things that you want to say yes to, like nurturing your own relationships or involving your children in a positive spiritual community – are too much. 

To have to say no in the name of keeping ourselves and our children well-regulated. 

I would like to go on the record as sniveling like a petulant child and stomping:

It’s not fair!

But really, what is even the best community and teaching worth if it leaves us all dissolving into tears and anger and breaks apart (if only for a time) our own family’s relationships? 

I was once told by someone who knows the details of our life well, “Your life is harder than most people’s.” 

It wasn’t meant to be discouraging but to give me perspective and help me set healthy expectations. 

And while it’s probably not helpful to dwell too much on the hardness of it all, it is important to keep this honest perspective. 

As a neurodivergent family, you do need to live at a different pace than everybody else. 

One that makes you scrutinize every ‘yes’ before committing. (Right down to where you buy dog food and whether you subscribe to Netflix.)

One that refuses to let you live in default mode.

Because of your family’s unique cocktail of mental, physical, and educational challenges, you might have significantly less capacity than the other families you see doing life around you. 

And that can be incredibly hard to accept. 

But maybe…

What if, instead of a life of less…

With each difficult choice, we end up creating the beautiful life that we really always wanted? 

One that’s slow and thoughtfully curated, loving and connected. 

Even though this was a rough morning, I’ve made great strides toward building a life I love most days, and I believe you can get there, too! 

As for me…

After I got the kids safely to school, I bought myself chocolate (yet another decision I’ll probably be regretting for the rest of the day 🤷‍♀️) and listened to worship music on the way home to get my soul settled back down and headed in the right direction again.

When did a cascade of routine changes last stir up stress for your family? How do you navigate finding the right balance of activity to help your people feel healthy, safe, and joyful?

Share your experience in the comments (and let me know I’m not alone in the chaos)!