My Wonderland

 Nobody ever warned me about the pre-pubescent tweenager . People love to toss around clichés about the terrible twos and moody teens, but this in-between stage...This half-baked prequel, where hormones are now ruling my entire household! I wasn't ready then, and I'm still not ready now, and I fear I'll never master that level of emotional organisation. Now, add disability to the mix. Moods aren’t just moods... they’re full-blown plot twists. One second we’re laughing over a silly YouTube video, the next we’ve got storm clouds rolling in with potential tornadoes and torrential mood swings... and it’s not 'bad behavior', it’s exhaustion. It’s the tight schedules, school demands, someone who worded their sentence the wrong way, and now Kaedyn is out for blood and carnage... But it's because everything is changing in ways that feel confusing and heavy, and the looming horror of more change, more confusion, and just being completely overwhelmed because he's exp...

 Well, today was chaos… the good kind. The kind where you're sprinting between appointments like a travelling circus act, but somehow it all works out. And by the end of it, your heart is full, your kid thinks he’s a rockstar ( he is ), and you’re somehow still functioning despite running on absolutely no caffeine. But let me backtrack. Because before we talk about the magic of today’s new OT session, there’s a shadow that deserves its own spotlight first... On the way to Little Bodies, Kaedyn asked me a question about his old beloved OT. “Mum, why do you like Julian so much?” How do you explain a person who didn’t just do their job? They changed your life? Julian wasn’t just Kaedyn’s OT. He was part of our family. He still is! We all hold so much love for him, his wife, and his kids; they are every shade of warmth and brilliance. He showed up. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, practically. Kind. Grounded. Generous with his time, his memory, his spirit. ...

I’m not unreasonable. And up until recently, I was one of the cool parents!   Dante’s friends practically worshipped me in primary school. I was the mum who ran all the good fundraisers. Dominos, Krispy Kremes, sugar on demand. I didn’t just bring cupcakes to birthdays I brought full-blown sugar platters that could send a fairy into cardiac arrest. Back then, I was fun. Respected. A walking vending machine of joy. His friends still come and give me hugs!  Now I’m the oppressive regime enforcing a brutal dictatorship consisting of two chores: Empty the dishwasher Take out the bins That’s it. That’s my entire wish list. And yet, somehow, this small ask launches him into a full-scale uprising. Every chore is a negotiation, every request is a debate. “Why do I have to take the bin out?” “Kaedyn’s plate was in the dishwasher, that’s basically his job.” “I didn’t even eat today, so technically I produced no waste.” Clothes? He’ll get to them. Eventually or have...

We're barely halfway through 2025, and already families are being told that enrollments for 2026 school year is full.  Yep... full! Education Support classrooms, designed for students who cannot attend mainstream are at capacity. If your child didn’t get in, the door is closed.  So where do they go? For children who are medically complex, disabled, or neurodivergent,.but not a “mainstream fit” what’s the answer? Because right now, the answer seems to be: There isn’t one. We talk about education like a menu of equal options: public, private, online, Montessori, homeschooling. But for many families of kids with disabilities, there’s no real choice. So families are left “choosing” homeschooling not out of lifestyle preference, but out of sheer necessity. It’s not flexible learning. It’s survival. Parents become teachers, aides, therapists, case managers. They coordinate everything from literacy to mobility aids, all while trying to work, raise siblings, and stay afloat. And they ...

Today, something unexpected happened. The NDIA announced a big cut to physiotherapy rates across Australia. Here in WA, it dropped from $224.62 to $183.99 an hour. That's more than $40! For years, we searched for the right physio for Kaedyn. Not just any therapy, but a place where he feels safe, understood, and even happy. Where therapy isn’t just a task but something he can be part of. With Ben and lately Kal, Kaedyn has found that. Therapy hasn't always been fun; sometimes he would cry just knowing he had to go, but he laughs in sessions now. He’s challenged in ways that help him grow. He’s proud of himself. That kind of progress isn’t just physical; it’s about feeling valued and seen. But now, with these cuts, the future feels uncertain for so many of us.  These small clinics, these therapists who care deeply, can’t keep going if funding keeps shrinking. It means fewer appointments, fewer resources that benefit our kids, and the therapists we love just have to walk away...

At sixteen, I handed my English teacher a diary written from the perspective of an ANZAC soldier. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t even for a grade. But it was real . I wrote it like I was in the trenches, mud on my boots, grief in my chest. She read it, looked up at me, and said, “You should keep writing.” And in that moment, I believed her. But life moved fast... really fast! I worked. I partied. I made choices, good and bad. And then I became a mother, and everything changed. I had two babies under two. One needed me in every possible way, physically, emotionally, endlessly. Therapy became our routine. Hospitals became more familiar than playgrounds. I gave every ounce of myself to my kids, but somewhere in the chaos… I stopped hearing my own voice. Then, one night, I had a dream. And the next night, it came back. So I borrowed one of the kids’ iPads, tapped out the first scene, and something I thought was lost inside me, cracked open. I was 24 or 25. Exhausted. Lost. But I was w...

I didn’t fall gently into this life, I tumbled in what felt like a headfirst direction. Just like Alice down the rabbit hole. Only my Wonderland isn’t filled with tea parties and curious cats. It’s filled with appointments, assessments, and a boy named Kaedyn who changed everything. Becoming a mum was always going to change me. But becoming his mum spun my world on its head. Up was down. Right became left. Nothing looked the way I’d imagined it and it never would again. In this Wonderland, time bends, and stretches into waiting rooms and then disappears in the flash of a smile. Some days are painted in technicolor joy, others in the grayscale of sheer exhaustion. I lost pieces of the woman I once was: a career woman with places to be and plans to keep. I said goodbye to my polished world and traded it for stretchy waistbands, late-night research, and navigating systems no one ever prepares you for. I celebrate things differently now. A moment of calm. A meltdown avoided. Ti...