At some point, every exhausted parent wonders the same thing:
Is my kid doing this on purpose?
Parenting neurodivergent kids while neurodivergent means rethinking a lot of things…
…especially sleep.
Meg Keefe and I talked about meltdowns, midnight wakeups, and the surprising power of letting go of parenting expectations.
How in the World Can You Laugh About Meltdowns and Sleep?
Meg writes Meltdowns & Other Family Traditions:
“for parents raising neurodivergent kids—while also trying to navigate their own nervous systems… Whether your house is loud, your heart is tender, or you’re simply trying to keep everyone—and yourself—from losing it, you belong here.”
She’s parenting a five-year-old son who is hilarious, quirky, energetic, and navigating the maze of evaluations, referrals, and school systems that so many parents of neurodivergent kids eventually encounter.
Writing about it, she told me, gives her a place to process everything.
And to laugh.
Because sometimes humor is the only way through.
Her family of origin is “the kind that laughs at funerals. If they’re not giggling about something, it’s a sign something is seriously wrong.” (Here’s Meg’s brother’s comedy Substack.)
Like most parents raising kids whose brains work differently, our conversation quickly landed on one universal topic:
Sleep.
Or more accurately—the lack of it.
Sleep struggles are incredibly common in neurodivergent kids, yet most parenting advice assumes every child responds to the same routines and strategies.
Anyone who has lived through it knows that’s rarely true.
The Question Behind The Behavior
Meg told me about the title of her first Substack post:
“Why Do You Think He Isn’t Sleeping? Spite.”
When you’re exhausted enough, “spite” can feel like a reasonable explanation.
Of course, it wasn’t spite… probably.
What Meg and I both share is a deep curiosity about the why behind behavior. I’ve never trusted explanations that stop at the behavior itself. Kids don’t do things for no reason—even when they can’t explain the reason themselves.
And honestly, adults aren’t much better at explaining our own whys.
I can’t always tell you why I couldn’t fall asleep last night.
The Parenting Plan That Didn’t Work
"With all the preparation in the world, it doesn't matter when it comes to parenting. I almost wish I knew less so I could cut myself some slack."
-Meg Keefe
What neurodivergent parenting teaches us about sleep struggles, letting go of expectations, and listening to the child we actually have.
At some point in our conversation, we started talking about the moment when parenting the child you imagined collides with parenting the child you actually have.
For me, that moment came early.
My son Ocean was still little. Maybe 3? His dad had left the house around 4 a.m. to teach a spin class. I woke up around 5 and stumbled into the living room.
There was Ocean. Sitting happily on the floor. Surrounded by tiny paper shapes he had been carefully cutting out.
With scissors.
Alone.
At five in the morning.
He smiled so big at me. “Hi Mama!”
My first thought probably should have been panic.
Instead, I remember thinking: “Well… he’s not dead.”
And then something inside me just gave up. Not in a hopeless way—in a clarifying way.
I realized something important in that moment.
Maybe the goal wasn’t actually to make him sleep. Because you can’t force another human being to fall asleep. Especially not one whose brain works differently.
What I really needed was for me to sleep.
So I went back to bed.
What Happens When We Surrender
That morning changed the way I thought about parenting, especially around sleep.
Ocean didn’t have to be sleeping for me to sleep.
He just had to be safe enough for me to sleep.
Once I reframed the problem that way, everything shifted. Instead of obsessing over sleep logs, perfect routines, video monitors, and expert advice, I started thinking about the conditions that might work—for him and for me.
Meg is doing the same kind of creative problem solving with her son.
His current sleep setup includes:
a bed tent
a light that stays on all night
birds chirping on the sound machine
Is it the dreamy childhood bedroom aesthetic she once imagined?
Not even close.
But it works…
…at least until it doesn’t—which is another thing you learn quickly parenting these kids.
What struck me most in our conversation was something Meg said near the end. When parents feel overwhelmed, she asks them a simple question:
“What can you drop?”
Maybe it’s the expectation of the perfect bedroom.
Maybe it’s worrying about the wild T-Rex haircut your kid insisted on.
Maybe it’s the idea that good parents never sleep while their kids are awake.
Letting go doesn’t mean giving up.
Sometimes it’s the only way we find our way back to connection.
And maybe—if we’re lucky—back to sleep.
I’d love to hear from you:
What’s one expectation you’ve had to let go of?
Join the next cohort of Powerful Parents
A kinder future for our kids begins with kindness toward ourselves.
