Nature & Nurture-Occupational Therapy for Families

05/08/2026

I heard friends mention babysitters, those first tentative steps out without babies. Some even used apps where someone could simply come over and watch their child.

I listened to parents' relief as they settled small children into their own beds and finally spoke of full nights' sleep.

I watched happy parents drop their children off at nursery and turn their thoughts to work, coffees and conversations.

I saw parents standing in the street, hands loosely holding their children's, chatting with ease.

Matrescence is the profound transformation that accompanies motherhood: the physical, emotional and psychological shift that comes with giving birth, feeding, nurturing and becoming responsible for another human being.
Like adolescence, it is a period of enormous change, an upheaval of identity as we slowly grow into who motherhood asks us to become.

And this shift into new phases, away from matrescence, from the relentlessness of early motherhood, the physical and mental toll was shrinking as their children grew.

But I could only watch, as bedtimes were not my own, as beds were shared long into double figures.

Free hours, whether at nursery or school, were still filled with the same exhaustion and the same questions that haunted early motherhood: “Am I doing the right thing?”

Because we are the mothers of Matrescence Extended: a life that does not move neatly into new stages, but instead becomes a protracted one. As others move through motherhood's expected changes, ours linger.

Ours move from hairbands on our wrists, trying to remember which breast is next, to sitting up late at night cutting labels from clothing, researching melatonin, or popping back to the shops one more time because we don't have the right cereal and, just like the right sleep suit once did, that one thing can make or break bedtime.

Matrescence Extended is the disappearance of ourselves while we care for someone whose needs do not dissipate but instead remain all hands on deck.
We stay close.
We still prepare meals, anticipate every eventuality and live in a state of unknowing, trying to figure it all out while others seem to move on.

The isolation and overwhelm remain as we continue to wonder, “Perhaps they were hungry? Poorly? Tired? Overwhelmed?” We still search for answers long after we imagined we would no longer need to.

Matrescence Extended is not the motherhood shared in parenting books with smiling families or in holiday adverts.
It is not spoken about in the playground or celebrated as a milestone reached.
It is the motherhood lived quietly behind closed front doors.

It is watching other mothers reclaim pieces of themselves while you remain on constant alert.
It is listening to conversations about newfound freedom while your world is still measured in routines, safe foods and the fragile balance that keeps everyone afloat.

Matrescence Extended is something we so often carry alone.

So this is for you, who are still here, still keeping someone safe, fed and held together.

For you, who have loved so much and for so long that parts of yourself have quietly disappeared beneath the endless doing, planning and worrying.

For now, and perhaps for some time yet, it is still all hands on deck.

For now, and perhaps for some time yet, it is still all hands on deck.

This version of motherhood may not be written about.

It may not be captured on social media.

But it exists, in kitchens late at night, in cars while we wait outside school gates late into the morning, in whispered conversations out of earshot.

We see you when the world does not.

24/07/2026

Imagine you're planning to make lasagna for supper, or something similarly complicated. You go to the store and buy all the ingredients, take the meat out of the freezer, and then you go to work.

But then work didn't go the way you expected. You were short-staffed, you spent all day on your feet, a coworker was rude to you, and you didn't have time to eat your lunch. When you get home, you're exhausted and starving. You now can't imagine spending an hour making lasagna and then cleaning up afterward. So.. you ACCOMMODATE yourself and order a pizza.

You didn't forget how to make lasagna. You still have all the ingredients for lasagna. You can make lasagna tomorrow. You might even technically WANT to make lasagna. You just don't have the capacity for it right now.

But you aren't lazy for not making lasagna. Nobody tells you that you are being manipulative or that you just need more discipline because you decided to order pizza. Adults extend themselves grace for exactly this kind of capacity shift all the time.

People's abilities don't have one steady baseline. They shift and change constantly, on multiple overlapping timescales, and the pattern is different for everyone.

This is called fluctuating capacity.

For some people, fluctuating capacity means they might handle a complex task one day and then struggle with basic self-care the next, or move between different levels of functioning within the same day, the same hour, even the same conversation.

Within a single day, capacity rises and falls based on accumulated demands, sensory input, food, hydration, transitions, and how much masking or effort someone has already done.

Day to day, sleep quality, what happened the day before, whether they are feeling well, where they are in their cycle, if applicable, and lingering effects from a big event can all change what is available.

Capacity depends on factors like sleep, sensory load, accumulated demands, illness, hormonal cycles, emotional state, environment, and how much the person has already had to mask or push through that day.

In kids, fluctuating capacity often looks like a child who can do something one moment and genuinely cannot do that same thing a short time later. The skill hasn't disappeared, but their access to it has.

A child who had a great Monday can be wiped out on Tuesday from the cost of that good day.

For kids, this could show up in various ways

✱ A kid who can write a full paragraph on Monday stares at a blank page on Wednesday and cannot get a single sentence out.

✱ A child who normally tolerates the tag in their shirt but then suddenly cannot bear it. Sensory thresholds can shift with capacity.

✱ A child who sometimes handles self-care tasks like brushing teeth, getting dressed, putting on shoes, but other times doesn't

✱ Language can also come and go. A kid who chats freely in the morning might give one-word answers by afternoon

These are all situations that involve the same kid, same skill, but different available capacity. Just like in the lasagna analogy.

When capacity fluctuates, you might notice skills requiring executive function, planning, sequencing, starting tasks, switching activities, are often times the first to go. Or, you might see emotional regulation drops, like crying or becoming frustrated more easily/quickly.

When adults don't recognize what's going on, this might feel confusing or frustrating. They might think the child is being lazy, or manipulative, or attention-seeking, or maybe it's a regression, or a behavior problem, or they're simply choosing not to what you want or expect.

But, it's none of those things.

They're still just a child doing the best they can with what they have in the moment, but in this moment, their nervous system has less to give, so skills are going offline.

We can't treat kids' best moments as their baseline. That is actually the ceiling, and the ceiling moves.

19/07/2026

Guess what, peeps?

Researchers have finally asked a question that should have been asked decades ago.

Instead of asking, "How do we help Autistic people become more successful?" they asked, "What does a good life actually look like to Autistic people?"

That may sound like the same question, but it isn't.

For far too long, we've measured Autistic success against non-Autistic standards. Ableist standards: make more eye contact, socialize more, tolerate noisy places, and above all, act 'normal.' In other words, we've often defined success by how well we imitate non-Autistic people.

A new qualitative study, published in Autism in Adulthood in July 2026, turns that idea upside down. Researchers interviewed 29 Autistic adults about what a good Autistic life actually looks like...what it means to flourish.

Participants took part in multiple one-on-one interviews, took part in group discussions, and provided written responses.

The researchers came to a simple but powerful conclusion: a good Autistic life is not a successful imitation of a non-Autistic one. It means being able to live well as ourselves, not changing to become easier for everyone else to live with.

That really hit me.

The researchers also found something else. For the Autistic participants, flourishing isn't just one big destination where we finally have our lives all figured out. There are actually two kinds...

There is long-term flourishing. That means having autonomy, purpose, stability, meaningful relationships, and a life that works for us.

There is also short-term flourishing. Those are the moments that remind us we are okay, and there are many. They happen when we are losing ourselves in a special interest, laughing with someone who truly gets us, quietly enjoying nature, or finishing a project we're proud of.

Many participants said long-term flourishing still felt out of reach, not because they were failing, but because the world kept expecting them to flourish on non-Autistic terms. Every participant, however, described those smaller moments of joy, calm, and well-being.

Here's the kicker. The researchers concluded that we've been aiming at the wrong target. Flourishing isn't becoming better at fitting into a non-Autistic world. Flourishing is having the support and freedom to build a life that actually works for an Autistic person.

Awesome.

We've spent decades asking how to help Autistic people fit into the world. Maybe it's time we started asking how to build a world where Autistic people can actually flourish.

Reference in the comments.

20/05/2026

10/05/2026

Women's rights are being rolled back by the NDIS cuts.

Today we think of every mother of a Disabled child, to whom the Federal government has decided to pass back the unpaid labour that the NDIS relieved.

Today we also think of every Disabled mother who will lose her child into Out of Home Care, because the Federal government cut away the NDIS support that stood between her and the child protection system.

Today, we think of every mother who - because of the advent of the NDIS - was able to work flexibly in self employment as an allied health provider or support worker, while raising her own children. Many left rigid working conditions under the big NGOs they worked in prior to the NDIS.

Now their jobs are disappearing. Now mothers are being once again, put at risk of unavoidable and traumatic separation from their children. Now mothers are, once again, being told they must be everything for their child - forever.

No school because it's inaccessible? Mum can care for them at home. She doesn't need that career or income. She can get by on carers payment.. right?

No services to take someone independently into the community? Mum can do that. She doesn't have anything else she's doing with her life...right? And surely, the Disabled person would prefer that...right?

Wrong.

Here's what Disabled people and their mothers have in common:

The right to choice and control.

Just as Disabled people have the right to choose and direct their supports - because this is safer and better for Disabled people - so too do women.

And when Disability support is fully funded, protected and spared the knife of mean-minded politicians like Anthony Albanese and Mark Butler MP, and their shark advisors -

Then these rights can exist in harmony and not tension.

No Disabled person should be forced to live with their parents against their will because no options for independent living exist. They should have a choice.

No mother should have care and support labour extracted from her against her will because no other options exist, either.

This mothers day, comment and if you think rights for women and rights for Disabled people are both under attack right now.

We think they are.

And we won't stand for it.

Stand with us? Because a Happy Mother's Day is one in which we stand together against misogyny and tell the pale stale males running this country:

We don't exist to be exploited so you can save a buck.

[Image: Loma Naser and Heidi La Paglia, ANPA Directors and mothers, stand together at the Protect Our NDIS Rally yesterday.]

31/01/2026

Rest in peace Otis and Leon.

15/01/2026

I can really relate to this,
For me, ocean dip=nervous system reset 🌊

15/12/2025

Free summit, some of the best neuro affirming therapist and specialists!

23/11/2025

Finland has built one of the most successful education systems in the world by removing unnecessary pressure from students. Instead of relying on national standardized exams, the country allows teachers to assess students through ongoing individual evaluation. This creates a calm and supportive classroom environment where children feel encouraged to learn.

Even with shorter school days and very little homework, Finnish students continue to perform at the top in international rankings. Experts credit this to a strong focus on critical thinking, creativity and real understanding. Teachers are required to complete advanced training, which gives them the freedom and confidence to design lessons that fit their students.

The Finnish approach shows that academic success does not come from long hours or heavy stress. By focusing on well being, balanced learning and joy in education, Finland proves that students learn best when they feel safe, rested and motivated.

06/11/2025

Play……the important “work” of childhood.
Thankyou Nurtured First