I started paying closer attention because I had questions, not answers. I'm still asking them.

I have three children. Two of our sons were diagnosed on the autism spectrum when they were around eight. Our daughter was diagnosed with dyslexia at seven, and autism at fifteen — which means I spent years watching them carefully, noticing things, loving them fiercely, and navigating a complicated world of differing needs and perspectives.

Along the way I started things down. Not for an audience — just to make sense of things. To find the intention behind the behaviour when everything felt chaotic and confusing and loud. Those early pieces became a blog called Boy Meets Cricket, named after a book I loved as a child about a cricket who made beautiful music in Times Square — if only someone would stop long enough to hear him.

That felt right. Because that is exactly what my children taught me to do. Stop. Look. Listen differently.

I am also an educator. I have a masters degree in education, and I am a certified Orton-Gillingham educator. I work inside a school that is holds a caring space for all their students. Where we all believe can do better, where people genuinely and thoughtfully pivot as we learn more. But, the system was built for a scripted version of childhood that does not make sense for everyone. How do we change the script?

I have sat on both sides of the IEP table. As a parent, I have fought for my children in rooms where their behaviour was being described in ways that missed the point entirely. As an educator, I have tried to be the person in that room who sees the child behind the file, navigating a landscape with conflicting needs, perspectives, and values.

That dual perspective is everything I bring to this space.

Mother of Intention is not a clinical resource. There are plenty of those, and many of them are excellent. This is something different — a place where the stories are real, the humour is necessary, and the belief that every child has something extraordinary to offer is absolute and non-negotiable.

I'm so glad you're here.