Ten unconventional things that helped our family this year
These two images say everything. They’re simple colour blocks of my daughter’s school attendance in Term 1… and this term.
The story under these colours matters.
I’m writing it so I don’t forget, and in case it helps another parent who is in the thick of it.
When every morning is a battle
It wasn’t just that one child didn’t want to go to school. Both of my girls screamed all the time.
People would say, “Why don’t you just take them out for a bike ride?” “Go to the beach?”
The truth was, they didn’t want to leave the house. They didn’t want to be without me. And when we stayed home, there were still huge tantrums and yelling, often from the moment they woke up.
One neighbour called it her new alarm clock. She eventually moved to a quieter place.
I had a WhatsApp group with a few neighbours and if I was really stuck, I would message and sometimes they could come over and circuit break. It helped, but it wasn’t enough.
When your training isn’t enough
I have a MEdPsych.
I’ve got a stack of training and spent years working with children and young people in trauma: in schools, shelters and institutional care.
And still, I found myself calling the parents’ helpline saying, “I don’t know what to do.”
Maybe it was accumulated grief finally bursting through. Whatever the cause, it was exhausting. I felt lost about how to help them. Even with a background in grief, loss and trauma work with children, I felt out of my depth.
By the end of Term 1, two psychologists and a psychiatrist had nodded towards ASD for one daughter and gave me a prescription for antidepressants to give her.
I asked, “Are you giving these to me because I don’t have family around, so I can smooth the edges enough that my child will go to school and I can work?”
The short answer was yes.
I said I’d think about it.
A different decision
At the end of term, I took the girls (and our dog Izzy) on a staycation to a dog friendly hotel. No work. No school pressure. No timetable. A different environment.
They were delightful. Calm. Playful. Kind with each other.
It was a peaceful weekend and showed me what our lives could feel like.
So I made a decision.
Maybe the environment was at play and I needed to focus not on quick fixes but on rebuilding a solid baseline for the girls and for our family. I stopped working and shifted my full attention to creating peace at home.
I wanted them to learn regulation first, before medication. I wanted space to understand the problem, adjust the environment and give them room to grieve. This lines up with Gabor Maté’s work on accepting and loving children for who they are.
Trying to run meetings with them screaming under the desk or cancelling work because they refused to leave the house was not the answer. For our family, neither was jumping straight to medication.
I sold some business assets.
Sold our car.
We pared things right back and focused on stability at home.
This is what helped us. Some of it is unconventional.
None of this is advice. It is simply what we tried and what shifted things in our system.
Understanding who they are
First, proper assessments to guide what to do.
One of my daughters sits in the middle of the ASD spectrum and is exceptionally strong in thinking and pattern recognition. That often comes with anxiety.
The other fits with being a Highly Sensitive Person and is profoundly emotionally aware. She absorbs everything, then sometimes explodes.
Understanding how they operate helped me choose better resources and ideas.
A book that helped:
When the Naughty Step Makes Things Worse by Dr Naomi Fisher and Eliza Fricker.
It is especially useful for kids who do not respond well to pressure and punishment.
Things that helped our system
Here are some of the actions that have supported us:
Music
I use music to shift the tone in the house. We play a lot of “high frequency positive vibes” and yin or meditation style instrumentals.Lighting and environment
We keep lights softer in the evenings and use candles and cosy corners. It sounds small, but it changes how everyone’s nervous system feels.Time away
We went interstate for a week between terms and focused on fun and connection. No appointments. No school logistics. Just time together. The girls also had two separate one week trips interstate without me, staying with my in-laws. That gave them connection and gave me some exhale space.Homeopathics
I had a few consults and used remedies for both girls. We keep a 6c Pulsatilla on the kitchen bench. The girls call them “happy pills”. A couple under the tongue in the morning when they feel they need it.Resonate Essences
These are aromatic sprays with an affirmation. Earlier in the year each girl had their own; now we share one. They spray it on in the morning and say, “I am AMAZING ME, a divine spark of light shining in the world.” It gives them a small sense of agency as they start the day.Epigenetics and nutrients
I read Nutrient Power: Heal Your Biochemistry and Heal Your Brain by William J Walsh. We did blood and hair tests for both girls and they now take specific compound vitamins each evening.The idea is that genes are not fixed. Big trauma, like losing a parent, can affect how things fire. Targeted nutrients may support the system to reset. For us, this has been one helpful layer.
Surrogate kinesiology
Once a month, both girls have a session. It helps address stress, hormones and other imbalances. For us, it has been a gentle and surprisingly profound support. I also have a session once a month to repair and rebalance myself.Family meetings
Monday nights we sit down together. Everyone brings one agenda item. We talk, listen, and agree on one week experiments.Some of the best ideas come from them: a dancing cactus toy as a signal for overwhelm, new screen time rules, food agreements, chore charts. My order-loving daughter often takes notes and designs the systems. The other often checks in with everyone’s needs. I remind them it is okay not to be in control of everything and that their voice matters.
They get to have a say and we follow through.
Screens
Screen time has always been limited at our place, usually a couple of hours on the weekend at most. We are more flexible now with family shows during the week or an extra movie, but solo gaming and device use is capped and always early bedtimes with books/quiet play.Cuddles and sleep
I cuddle my youngest daughter to sleep every night. While I do, I imagine a green light from my heart wrapping around her. My breathing slows. Then hers does. She falls asleep. It calms both of us.
What did not quite fit
Alongside all of this, we tried multiple psychologists, grief counsellors, play therapists and family support.
We talked. Cried. Laughed. Cried again.
Looking back, the screaming was a very loud “please help”. These choices were my way of answering that.
Some of the conventional approaches did not work for us. Many focus on adult needs and on getting the child to conform. I have been told to be harder, stricter, to “just boss them” and hold the hierarchy.
There is truth in clear limits, but not as the whole picture for us. I value my girls input and who they are as individuals. I felt that if I took the time to understand why they were acting out and worked with them on regulation techniques that fit them, it would serve them more in the long run than simply falling into line now.
Losing a parent is traumatic. One day when they are adults, I do not want that to be an unspoken weight they still have to unpack from childhood. I want them to have had chances, in their own way, to move through it as we go.
Where we are now
My original plan was to pause work for three months. That turned into six. Now we are almost at the end of the school year.
Our house is not perfectly serene. Sometimes there is still yelling.
And I know work will ramp up again and that will bring new adjustments. We’re ready, our whole system has improved. We repair faster. We bounce back more easily. The foundation is sturdier.
Their school attendance charts show it clearly: less red, more green.
I can feel the change in myself too. I am stronger. I feel like I am emerging from the depths, becoming more of a rock again. Not rigid, but steady enough that others can lean on me for a while as they cross the seas of their own journeys.
This year has not been easy, but given the chance to choose again, I would still make the same call. I am glad I took this year to really know my children and to let us all grieve and rebuild.
If any part of this helps another parent feel less alone or sparks one new idea to try at home, then writing it down is worth it.
