If you have ever watched your child forget instructions moments after hearing them, lose track of what they were doing mid-task, or struggle to hold information in mind long enough to use it, you may have been told, “It’s a working memory issue.” For many parents, that phrase can feel vague, confusing, or even alarming. What exactly is working memory?

Rejection and exclusion are among the most painful social experiences for children—and for parents, witnessing that pain can feel unbearable. Whether it shows up as tears after school, anger at home, school refusal, or quiet withdrawal, rejection can activate intense emotional responses that seem to come out of nowhere and linger far longer than adults expect.

Friendship is one of the most emotionally charged topics in parenting. Many parents carry vivid memories of their own childhood friendships—the joy of belonging, the pain of exclusion, the confusion of social missteps. When our children’s social experiences look different from what we expected or remember, it can trigger worry, grief, or a strong urge to “fix” things quickly.

Winter can be a season of joy, adventure, and activity—but it can also present challenges for families of neurodiverse children. From snow-filled days to icy sidewalks, cold weather, and shortened daylight, parents often face a critical question: When should we encourage children to engage in winter activities, and when is it better to pause? For neurodiverse children, this push vs. pause decision can be even more nuanced.

Winter brings many joys—snowy landscapes, cozy evenings, and festive activities—but it also brings unpredictability and opportunities for flexibility. Snow days, icy roads, school closures, and unexpected cancellations can disrupt even the most well-planned routines. For neurodiverse children, who often thrive on predictability and structure, these disruptions can be particularly challenging.

Winter can be a magical season—snowflakes, cozy sweaters, hot cocoa, family gatherings, and holiday lights. But for many families, especially those raising neurodiverse children, it’s also a season of added chaos. Suddenly, there are boots, coats, hats, gloves, scarves, snow pants, extra socks, and jackets cluttering entryways. The laundry seems endless. School bags get lost under piles of holiday gifts.

Winter is a season of contrasts, especially here in Minnesota where Monarch is based. Cozy evenings, festive lights, and hot drinks create a warm atmosphere—but for parents of children, winter can also bring challenges. One of the most common is maintaining movement and physical activity when the cold, snow, or icy sidewalks make outdoor play impractical.

For many families, the holiday season is filled with excitement—school breaks, family visits, festive outings, and special traditions. But for children who rely on structure, routine, and predictability, this time of year can feel overwhelming instead of joyful.

One of the most powerful ways children learn is through stories. Long before children can analyze research or take in complex lessons, they connect with characters. They see themselves in protagonists who stumble, fail, try again, and ultimately grow. This is the heart of growth mindset: the belief that abilities can improve through effort, strategies, and support.

As parents, one of the hardest things to hear from our children is: “I can’t do it.” For neurodiverse kids—whether they have ADHD, autism, dyslexia, dysgraphia, or other learning differences—those words often come after repeated experiences of frustration. This is where the power of “yet” comes in.

Thanksgiving is often described as a time for gratitude, reflection, and connection. Families gather around the table to share meals, traditions, and expressions of thankfulness. But for parents raising neurodivergent children—whether they have ADHD, autism, dyslexia, anxiety, or other differences—the holiday season can sometimes feel complicated.

As autumn fades into winter, the days grow shorter, the weather colder, and the calendar busier. For many families, this seasonal shift is accompanied by changes in energy, mood, and motivation—especially for children. While it may feel easier to let routines slide when the holidays approach, maintaining structure is actually one of the best ways to support your child’s learning, mental health, and overall well-being during the fall-to-winter transition.

When we think about disability, many of us imagine something visible: a child using a wheelchair, a hearing aid, or a mobility support. But the reality is that many disabilities are invisible. They don’t show up at a glance, yet they impact children’s daily lives in profound ways. For parents raising children with invisible disabilities—or navigating them in their own lives—this invisibility can be both a blessing and a challenge.

Parent-teacher conferences are soon approaching. Conferences can feel intimidating, even for the most seasoned parents. Add in the complexities of supporting a neurodivergent child—whether they have ADHD, a learning disability, autism, anxiety, or another unique profile—and those short meetings can feel high-stakes. How do you use the information from psychoeducational testing in a way that truly benefits your child’s school experience?

When a child learns differently—whether because of ADHD, autism, dyslexia, anxiety, or another neurodivergent profile—the relationship between home and school becomes even more important. Success is not just about what happens in the classroom, or only about what happens at home. It’s about both environments working together in partnership. For parents of neurodivergent learners, that partnership often hinges on one key skill: strong communication strategies.

Most parents know the scene: your child walks in the door after school, backpack slung over one shoulder, and within minutes they melt down. They might snap at a sibling, burst into tears, refuse to do homework, or collapse into silence. You wonder: What happened? Did something go wrong at school? Did I miss something? Behind this reaction lies a very real experience for kids: the strain of holding it together all day and finally taking off their mask at home.

If you’re the parent or caregiver of a neurodivergent child, you already know that navigating school life can feel like walking through a maze—sometimes with helpful guides, and sometimes with unexpected twists. Teachers, too, are navigating this maze. The truth is, most teachers want to partner with parents in a way that truly supports neurodiversity—but there are practical realities, communication gaps, and misconceptions that can get in the way.

In every classroom, there’s a diverse range of minds at work. Some students learn in conventional ways, while others process information, communicate, and interact with the world differently. These students may be described as neurodivergent. As a teacher, your role isn’t to “normalize” neurodivergent students, but to create an environment where their learning styles, strengths, and challenges are respected and supported.

I have been hearing more and more about parents creating a one page “information” or About Me sheet that can be shared with a student’s new teacher in the fall. This sheet is used to introduce the student, their strengths, areas of difficulty, and how to best support them. I haven’t created something like this before but am going to give it a try this year for my early elementary aged student.

Family road trips can be full of laughter, scenic views, and the occasional fast-food stop for fries and milkshakes. But if you're a parent of a neurodivergent child, you also know that those same road trips can bring a unique set of challenges—especially when it comes to managing sensory sensitivities, changes in routine, or unexpected meltdowns.