A Morning Brew of Chaos and Order
This week, one of the parents from our community - and a regular at our monthly Coffee Connect gatherings for parents and carers of children with a neurodiversity - shares some light hearted reflections on our most recent meet up - and invites you to join us next time.
It’s the first Friday of the month - 9am - the start of our monthly coffee morning. And let me tell you, this is not your typical coffee gathering. It’s a caffeine-fuelled circle of chaos followed by order, the kind of delightful madness only neurodiverse families can bring.
Each parent brings their own unique flair to the event. It’s a coffee morning, plenty of caffeine and cookies to hand out, yet for some bizarre reason, we all arrive caffeinated and bring an extra supply in a mug or a can. Some glide in with the grace of a ballet dancer (if ballet dancers also carried a bag full of worries, a mask to switch character and an inexplicable number of distracting sensory toys). Others burst through the doors like an action movie hero: juggling their sanity and the ever-elusive sense of control. Thankfully, for this meeting, it's a kid-free zone. One less thing to worry about.
Not your average parents
From the get-go, it’s clear we’re not your average parents. The room is a kaleidoscope of stimming hands, enthusiastic vocalizations, and some parents with a list of questions, seeking answers with the curiosity of a NASA rover. And let's not forget myself, a parent who, despite my best efforts, often finds myself with coffee stains on my shirt and the glazed look of someone who hasn't had a full night's sleep since the last leap year.
Ah, coffee. The magical elixir that promises to transform us from frazzled to functional. Or at least that’s the hope. In reality, our coffee morning is a parade of mishaps. One parent spills their entire heart like an overflowing brewing espresso. Another can’t seem to figure out how they haven’t lost their mind yet, sparking a minor rebellion when it's discovered: “I flipped out,” one mum confesses. “I know, it’s bad, but I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
But that's the charm of it all. Who among us hasn’t microwaved a cup of coffee only to find it three hours later, cold and abandoned, like a forgotten toy in the playroom? As a mother with two neurodiverse children and self diagnosed ADHD, I can relate all too well. Thankfully, we have a hot water dispenser for top ups, which even I try not to battle with, lest I get burned.
“Why is there a hot water dispenser in a room already bubbling hot”? My excessive mind wandering begins. Perhaps they know the only thing that fuels a mission better than adrenaline is a bottomless cup of coffee!
Conversation, tears and laughter
The room buzzes with conversations. There are the usual updates: "Teddy learned a new word!" or "Elise stayed dry all night!" These victories are celebrated with the same enthusiasm as when England beat the Netherlands last week.
Then come the tales of epic meltdowns and sensory overloads. One parent recounts how their child refused to go to school unless he wore Duggee pants. One mum says she sometimes pawns off her chatty son on his grandmother via video call, so she can escape to another room and enjoy a few minutes of peace and quiet. Another describes a public tantrum on the London Underground that left them wishing for an invisibility cloak. Tears flow freely, but they are tears of understanding and solidarity.
Laughter punctuates these tales, a shared recognition of the absurdity we all live through. One parent confesses to accidentally sending their child to school on an inset day. Another admits to mistaking their husband's shaving cream for toothpaste in a sleep-deprived haze. We all laugh, because honestly, who hasn’t been there?
Oh, the look on parents faces when the discussion on EHCPs comes up. Lo and behold, navigating that process is like trying to assemble IKEA furniture without instructions.
Normalcy in the abnormal
As the morning progresses, something magical happens. Amid the chaos, the spills, and the heartfelt confessions, we all begin to relax. We realize that none of us has it all together, and that's perfectly okay. Our collective imperfections become a source of strength.
By the end of the morning, we've formed a bond that goes beyond the superficial. We've shared our triumphs and our struggles, and in doing so, we've found a sense of belonging. We walk away with lighter hearts and the comforting knowledge that we're not alone in this beautifully messy journey.
As we gather our bags and head for the door, there's a sense of normalcy in the abnormal. We’ve embraced our quirks, our mistakes, and our unique ways of navigating the world of Neurodiversity. And as we part ways with promises to do it all again next month, one thing is clear: at the Neurodiversity Family Hub, we’ve found our tribe.
Coffee Connect is a free, informal drop-in session for parents and carers of children with a neurodiversity (diagnosed or not). It takes place at our office on 56 Southwark Bridge Road, SE1 0AS. Join us for a cuppa and a chat from 8:30 to 10:30am. The next session will be held on Friday 6th September - and we hope to see you there.