A few weeks ago, I shared about the art of the pivot in business.
But today, I lived the art of the pivot in parenting (let’s be honest, this is most days).
If you’re raising kids who need extra support—especially neurodivergent ones—you know how often we’re asked to flex. To pivot. To respond instead of react. It’s both a dance and a discipline that we have to develop for ourselves!
Today was a classic reroute day.
I’d slept decently after a lovely 9-mile family bike ride last night and had a clear morning plan: yoga (part of my St. Jude’s fundraiser), quick house chores, and this newsletter.
Instead, I found myself helping one of my kids problem-solve a morning that had gone a bit sideways after a night that went a lot sideways. Planning, especially around sleep and transitions, is a huge challenge for him. So instead of yoga, I was out the door with him—grabbing clothes, swinging by the store for some energy support, and ensuring he got safely to work on little rest.
Did this work for me?
Honestly, sometimes it doesn’t. But today, I could flex. I’m grateful I work for myself—and also aware that even with a 9–5, there are creative ways to pivot when life requires it.
Yoga becomes stretches between tasks. Breakfast became a cantaloupe-avocado smoothie I sipped while breathing deeply and writing. And the training I’d planned to watch this afternoon? I’ll take it on a walk through the neighborhood later today—getting movement and content in, even if it means downloading the video to my phone.
What takes longer than rerouting, though, is wanting to reroute. My brain often clings to the original plan. That’s where little rewards help. Today, the walk is my prize for following through on the writing—despite the shake-up that doesn’t have me feeling my best.
And just to be clear: this isn’t helicopter parenting.
We didn’t rescue him from the natural consequence of being tired—he’ll feel that. But we did rightsize the consequence. He doesn’t need to lose a job because he forgot about the existence of melatonin and didn’t want to wake us. What he does need is a chance to learn, reset, and try again.
Parenting kids with support needs often means helping their brains make new connections—offering enough structure to learn, enough grace to grow, and enough flexibility to try again. It’s showing up to THEM and where they are in their growth. Today, that meant talking through better systems for future planning, exploring bedtime strategies, and clarifying for you all and myself that parenting isn’t about doing what “society” says is best—it’s about doing what works for this child.
It’s not easy. But it’s powerful and it’s REAL.
This is the art of the reroute.