End of Year Bits and Pieces: Neurodivergence, Advocacy Wins and Motherhood Reflections

Hands up if you’re ready for the academic year to end?

No seriously, hands up. Because mine’s waving like an inflatable tube person.

These last few weeks — especially this week — feels like I’m dragging my feet through wet cement. And I know I’m not the only one feeling it. My daughter, who’s practically a scholar in end-of-year exhaustion, pointed out that this is the longest school year they’ve ever had. At 41 weeks, it sure sounds like it.

Getting to school on time? A daily Olympic challenge. Breakfasts and lunches? Bare minimum. We’re all craving that sweet, sweet downtime.

Don’t get me wrong — I know by mid-January, we’ll all be itching for routine again, waving the kids off to school like it’s the first day of freedom. But right now? We’re bone-tired.

---

One of my kids has needed both learning and behavioural support their entire school career. Since they were a toddler, I’ve been on a never-ending quest for answers, support, guidance, and specialists. At first, some teachers, family and friends thought I was imagining things. But I kept pushing.

It’s been a long road: gaslighting, pivots, second opinions, third opinions. Letters, phone calls, meetings. Advocacy and self-doubt intertwined like vines. And between the courses I’ve taken, the books I’ve read, and the endless research, it’s no wonder I haven’t become an accredited expert myself. Honestly, I’ve probably already done half the coursework!

But we made it.

Our family doesn’t hang our happiness or success on academic results, but they do give us clues about what’s working. And this year?

The best school report ever. I mean shockingly good.

That didn’t happen by chance. It took endless meetings, assessments, changes to learning accommodations, and ongoing check-ins. It's been my full-time job.

And you know what? In the immortal words of Snoop Dogg:

I wanna thank me
I wanna thank me for believing in me
I wanna thank me for doing all this hard work
I wanna thank me for having no days off
I wanna thank me for, for never quitting

I wanna thank me. For the uphill slog, the stubbornness, the grit.

It’s the kind of swagger you need after years of advocating for your kids. Because sometimes, you have to be your own hype person. Channel your inner Snoop, give yourself the credit, and maybe even a standing ovation. You’ve earned it.

---

I’m deeply aware that so much of what I’ve pursued has been self-funded and expensive. Not everyone has that privilege, and I’m endlessly grateful for it. But I didn’t always have access, either. At first, I thought it was because we lived in an under-resourced country. But even back in a “first-world” nation, the road wasn’t smooth. Doors slammed, many tears (mostly mine), gaslighting was rampant, and the fight was real.

And it wasn’t just about neurodivergence. In 2022, when our daughter was seriously ill and hospitalised for three weeks due to life-threatening complications of appendicitis, I had to learn advocacy on the fly. We were hospitalised during the Easter weekend, in the middle of post COVID staffing chaos — understaffed wards, skeleton crews, and a sea of frustration.

I’d hoped being in the hospital meant we would be surrounded by experts. But three weeks in, with my daughter not improving, it wasn’t until a kind-hearted security guard mentioned Ryan’s Rule that things shifted. That’s when I stopped being a passive patient and became a full-throttle advocate for my daughter’s recovery.

Suddenly, things started moving. Communication improved. Action followed.

---

So here we are. Limping toward the finish line, but heads held high.

It’s been a year of relentless effort, exhaustion, and wins that felt hard-fought and well-earned.

And as tired as we are, I’m holding onto the wins — because, damn it, we deserve them.

Now, let’s get this year wrapped up. January can take it from here.

---

Some years, I’ve chosen a theme word to guide me. Lately, I’ve avoided it — who needs another thing to “fail” at? But as I stumble out of 2024, a theme has started rumbling, and it lifts me up: *ADVOCACY.*

---

And speaking of milestones, we’re at the end of an era. No more primary school kids in this house. High school for us also means fewer moments of being in two places at once. While I don’t want to wish this time away — because I can feel these motherhood years slipping through my fingers — I’m so proud of how far we’ve come. My kids are growing, developing, and becoming their own people. And that? That’s something to celebrate.

---

PS: If you see me at the gym looking confused, I’m probably just trying to remember what to do and why I’m there. Send snacks.