Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) is one of the most prevalent yet least recognised neurodevelopmental conditions globally. Despite evidence suggesting that more than 3% of the population may be affected, many professionals, including educators, medical staff, and social workers, remain unfamiliar with its characteristics and implications.

In the UK, awareness of FASD is significantly behind countries like Canada and the USA. We are failing to identify, support, and adapt to the needs of a substantial number of children and young people who are living with permanent brain damage caused by prenatal alcohol exposure. These children are in our classrooms, our foster homes, our GP waiting rooms. Yet they are often diagnosed with ADHD, autism, sensory processing disorder or attachment difficulties instead. The true root cause is missed entirely.

This blog is a starting point. A one-stop introduction for parents, teachers, paediatricians, prospective adopters and foster carers. My aim is not to shame or sensationalise, but to inform, equip, and inspire better understanding. Because only with knowledge can we improve outcomes for these children.

The recent headlines around the government’s review of Education, Health and Care Plans (EHCPs) have understandably sent many parents into a state of panic.

After all, for many families, securing an EHCP for their child has been a long, emotionally exhausting journey—one filled with form-filling, waiting, chasing, and fighting for their child's needs to be recognised. So, the idea that EHCPs may be “phased out” or radically restructured can feel like a threat to the hard-won progress they've achieved.

But before we let fear take hold, I want to offer a slightly different perspective—one grounded in professional experience and deep compassion for the families walking this road.

magine if every school had a Needs Policy not just a Behaviour Policy.

A framework rooted not in control and consequence, but in curiosity and compassion. A shift from “if you exhibit the wrong behaviour, this will be this consequence” to “what are your needs, and here’s what we can do to adjust our environment so you feel safe and able to meet our expectations?”

Right now, most schools operate like pharmacies. Got a headache? You pop to the chemist, grab some paracetamol, and carry on. That’s how behaviour policies often work: a child misbehaves, a remedy is administered (detention, isolation, a phone call home) and the expectation is they recover and move forward. For many children, this model works. It's the equivalent of treating a minor ailment with a standard remedy. But what happens when a child doesn’t get better?

Rebuilding Connection After Parenting Missteps

Parenting is a journey filled with love, challenges, and, inevitably, moments where we falter. Especially for parents of neurodivergent children or those with additional needs, the daily demands can be overwhelming. In these moments, we might react in ways that don't align with our intentions. But there's hope and healing in the concept of repair.​ In this blog I am going to share some of the theory around repair and then also talk about how we use this in our house.

This story isn’t a manual for wellness. It’s a personal reflection from someone who’s walked through mental ill health and slowly, gently, found a way to a place of peace and hope.

Many people close to me have no idea how dark things got. But here I am, writing these words and proving that mental health is a journey.

Why I’m Sharing My Story

Maybe you’re in your own darkness. Feeling stuck. Isolated. Like there’s no way forward. I hope by sharing my story, there might be a piece of inspiration or connection that helps.

No one leaps into wellness. Recovery isn’t always big or dramatic. You take one small step. And when it feels okay, you take another.

There’s something about spring that feels deeply symbolic to me. The slow unfurling of buds, the return of birdsong, the longer days—it’s a gentle but powerful reminder that even after the darkest seasons, life begins again. What once looked dormant bursts into colour. What felt stagnant starts to stir. And somehow, nature reminds us that hope and possibility are always waiting—even if they’ve been buried for a while.

This time of year encourages reflection. For me, that reflection has led to one clear realisation: prioritising my own wellbeing is not a luxury—it’s essential. Because when I do, I open myself up to the growth that spring represents. I begin to notice the opportunities I would have otherwise missed. I find the energy and resilience to help not only myself, but my children, flourish too.

We talk so much about resilience, about supporting our children through the ups and downs of life. But what about us? What happens when we are tired, overwhelmed, overstimulated, frustrated? When I’m disregulated, perspective is the first thing I lose. Small things become massive, everyday challenges feel impossible, and frustrations spiral into what I call ‘EastEnders drama’ level events. I’ve always been aware of this, but I’m now trying to become more mindful of it in the moment.

Ever found yourself wondering if we’re too careful as parents?

From GPS tracking to top up cards, the way we manage risk for our kids has changed dramatically. But are we helping them... or holding them back?

Before becoming a mum, my expectations for Mother’s Day sat somewhere between this and the picture-perfect scenes from The Waltons. Safe to say, this is not what Mother’s Day looks like in my house.

Why Are So Many Children Struggling in School – And What Can We Do About It?

Celebrating Small Wins & Breaking Free from Comparison

Parenting is filled with expectations—some set by society, some by professionals, and many we place on ourselves. We’re told what children should be doing at a certain age, how they should behave, and the best ways to guide them. But what happens when those traditional measures don’t fit your child?

Navigating the System with Confidence (Even When You Doubt Yourself)

Advocating for your child isn’t just about speaking up—it’s about knowing when, where, and how to be heard. It’s about persistence in a system that often feels overwhelming and unfair. And if you, like me, struggle with self-doubt, worry about what others think, or find yourself wanting to please everyone, advocacy can feel even harder.

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Learning to Speak Up in Their Own Way

One of the greatest gifts we can give our children is the ability to advocate for themselves—to help them express who they are, what they need, and how they experience the world. But for many children with additional needs, this isn’t always easy.

Some struggle to find the words. Others fear judgment or rejection. And sometimes, as parents, we step in so often to protect and explain that they don’t get the chance to do it for themselves.

A Strengths-Based Approach to Supporting Children with additional Needs. Parenting a child especially one with additional needs is a journey of contradictions. It’s joyful and heartbreaking, exhausting and uplifting. There are moments of incredible progress, followed by setbacks that shake your confidence. I know this because I live it every day.

Building Resilience and Overcoming Blocked Care

Parenting a child with complex needs isn’t just about navigating their world—it’s about surviving in a world that often doesn’t understand them. It’s exhausting, deeply rewarding, isolating, and overwhelming, sometimes all at once.

Supporting Children with Strengths-Based Goals, PACE, and a Strong Support Network. Parenting a child with any sort of additional need is a journey filled with love, challenges, and resilience. But often, the traditional systems around us focus on what our children struggle with rather than what they excel at. The ForMi Way offers a different approach—one that empowers families by focusing on strengths, meaningful goal-setting, and creating a Circle of Support.