The moment you become a parent, your entire brain rewires. One minute you're wondering what to order from the takeaway, the next you're deep into discussions about phonics, handwriting grip, and whether tutoring is worth the price of a short-haul holiday.
Spoiler: It is. (And unlike a holiday, it comes with fewer sunburns and more folders.)
I've been through it twice (so far). My eldest? She absolutely smashed the 11+—like a tiny academic assassin. Calm, focused, and borderline terrifying in her precision. My second? Didn't go quite so smoothly. We prepped the same, tried our best, but the nerves got the better of her. We spent a year rallying after that, and thankfully she passed the CAT4 later—very similar exam style, just with a slightly different flavour.
As a parent, you want to give your child every chance to thrive, but you also learn quickly that success doesn't follow a script. What works for one won't always work for the next—and no amount of laminated revision timetables will change that.
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The Case for 11 Plus Tuition (Especially When You're Not a Maths Wizard)
I could probably ace the 11+ myself now. I've seen enough test papers to make my eyes bleed. But what I couldn't always offer my daughters was the neutral, pressure-free support they got from their 11 plus tuition support team—people who knew how to walk that fine line between challenge and cheerleader.
It wasn't just about passing a test. It gave them confidence. It showed them what it feels like to master something tricky. And for my second daughter, it helped rebuild that confidence when the first hurdle fell.
Whether you go the one-to-one route or choose small group support, quality tuition is about more than just exam results!
Friendships: The Hidden Curriculum They Don't Teach in School
Now let's talk friendships. Or in our house, let's talk how confusing and exhausting the rules of friendship can be when your brain is wired differently.
Neurodivergent kids often struggle with the stuff that other children seem to absorb by osmosis—eye contact, timing, when it's OK to join in and when it looks like you're gate-crashing.
Watching your child go through that is like watching your past self stumble through a maze of awkward silences and "why don't they like me?" tears. I've been there. My girls have been there. And I can see it—the missed cues, the brave smiles, the awkward goodbyes that come a second too late.
So what do we do? We talk it out. We script it. We role-play how to join a game or how to back off without feeling rejected. And we remind them that their kind of friendship might look a bit different—but it's still real, and still worth having.
Our House Is a Craft Apocalypse (And That's OK)
We are a creative household. And by "creative," I mean there is glitter in places glitter should never be. My wife is an artist, so she and the girls are usually elbows-deep in paint, clay, or some potion made of glue and beads. My son and I… well, let's just say we support from a safe distance. We're both hopeless at drawing, and he definitely gets his artistic flare from me.
But I love it. Even if I'm binning the 18th mystery tub of slime this week and wondering if the Hoover needs therapy. Creative hobbies build curiousity, imagination and confidence. And yes, they also build a decent tolerance for touching things that make your skin crawl. Which, let's face it, is parenting 101.
Taco Tuesdays and Daddo-Bell Seasoning
Food is our family's love language. And while I know tacos are technically beige, they're the one meal everyone agrees on. I make a homemade spice mix—"Daddo-Bell"—that the kids claim is better than its namesake. High praise, considering one of them thinks ketchup is a bit spicy.
Taco night is also the only time they willingly put salad on anything. That alone makes it a miracle meal.
When You See Yourself in Your Kids (And Not Always in a Good Way)
I grew up with one parent who shouted so loud it made my ears ring and another who couldn't say no to anything. Sometimes—especially when I'm overstimulated, knackered, and there's a Lego brick underfoot—I hear my dad's voice coming out of my own mouth. And not in a good way.
Recently, I saw my six-year-old shouting commands at her teenage siblings like a tiny general. It was funny. It was also… a bit confronting.
The parenting lesson? Apologise. Be honest. Model what it looks like to mess up and fix it. Our kids will copy us either way—better to show them how to repair the damage than pretend it never happened (thanks mum).
Let Them Be Weird. Let Them Be Brilliant. Let Them Be Themselves.
Raising well-rounded, happy kids isn't about following a blueprint. It's about building a home where they can be curious, supported, celebrated, and heard—even if they shout a bit too much sometimes.
So yes, invest in their minds, their mental health and curiousity. Help them handle friendships. Let them paint the walls (ideally with actual paint, not Nutella). Feed them tacos. Say sorry when you snap. And always—always—let them know that their weird, wonderful selves are more than enough.
Because at the end of the day, that's what really sets them up for success.
