There were SO many things my kids did when they were younger that I thought were intentional.
Ignoring me.
Refusing to wear something for seemingly no reason.
Losing it because plans changed.
Complaining about a noise while simultaneously being the loudest person in our house.
And I would respond the way I thought I was supposed to respond.
Don't give in.
Don't let them control the situation.
They wore it yesterday, so they can wear it today.
They need to learn that plans change.
They're going to have to get used to it.
And sometimes?
That was completely reasonable parenting.
Kids don't like being told no. They test boundaries. They change their minds. They avoid things they don't feel like doing.
Not everything is sensory.
But once I started understanding my own kids' sensory needs, I realized something that changed the way I parented:
Some of the things I thought they wouldn't do were actually things they were having a really hard time doing.
Those can look remarkably similar from the outside.
Here are seven I wish I'd understood sooner.
1. I thought they were ignoring me
You know this one.
You're standing six feet away.
You say their name.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
By the third time, you're no longer gently calling their name. You're wondering whether your voice has somehow stopped producing sound.
“I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME.”
I used to assume ignoring me meant exactly that.
They heard me.
They chose not to respond.
But I eventually started noticing that this happened much more when my kids were already deeply focused, overwhelmed, in a loud environment, watching something, or dealing with a lot of other input at once.
Sometimes the problem wasn't:
“I heard Mom and decided I'm not answering.”
It was more like my voice had become one more piece of information their brain was being asked to process.
That doesn't mean my kids never intentionally ignore me.
Please.
I have children.
But now I look at what's happening around them before deciding which one I'm dealing with.
2. I thought changing plans shouldn't be THAT big of a deal
This one used to make me crazy.
We're going somewhere.
Plans change.
No big deal.
Except apparently it is now the end of civilization.
And I'd think:
We're going to Target instead of the grocery store. We have not canceled Christmas.
What I didn't understand yet was how much comfort some kids get from knowing what is going to happen next.
If they've already built the plan in their head, changing it can mean suddenly having to process a completely different set of expectations.
Where are we going?
Who will be there?
What will it look like?
How long will we stay?
What happens afterward?
Adults do this mental recalculation almost automatically.
Some kids don't.
Now, when I know there's a possibility plans could change, I try not to present Plan A like it was carved into stone tablets.
And when something does change unexpectedly, I understand the reaction a little differently.
They're not necessarily trying to ruin the new plan.
They may be struggling to let go of the old one.
3. I thought, “You wore this YESTERDAY.”
This one is obviously close to home for me.
My child wore the shirt.
Nobody died.
There was no complaint.
Then suddenly, two days later:
I CAN'T WEAR THIS.
Excuse me?
You literally just wore it.
This is where sensory issues can make parents feel like we're being played.
Because if something was comfortable yesterday, shouldn't it be comfortable today?
Not necessarily.
Maybe they're more tired today.
Maybe they're already overwhelmed.
Maybe the waistband is sitting slightly differently.
Maybe something that was tolerable when their nervous system had plenty of room becomes unbearable when it doesn't.
And sometimes clothes change too.
They shrink.
They twist.
Elastic rolls.
A seam lands differently.
Something gets scratchier after washing.
My daughter taught me this lesson most dramatically with socks.
She went almost an entire year without wearing them.
At first, I couldn't understand how something so incredibly ordinary could possibly be causing that much distress.
Eventually, instead of asking:
“How do I get her to tolerate the socks?”
I started asking:
“What about the socks is bothering her?”
That question ultimately changed my career.
I had spent more than 20 years as a fashion designer, but I had never designed children's clothing.
I started because I was desperate to solve problems I couldn't find solutions for.
That's eventually how Parker & Talia began.
Sometimes the answer isn't teaching a child to tolerate something better.
Sometimes we can change the thing they're being asked to tolerate.
4. I thought they were just being ridiculously picky about food
This one is SO confusing.
They ate the strawberries yesterday.
They loved the strawberries.
You bought more strawberries specifically because they loved the strawberries.
Today?
The strawberries are offensive.
Fantastic.
But fruit is wildly unpredictable when you think about it.
One blueberry is firm and sweet.
The next is soft.
The next is sour.
The next one explodes in your mouth in a way you were absolutely not prepared for.
Meanwhile, the cracker from the box tastes pretty much exactly like the last 400 crackers.
Once I understood that texture, smell, temperature and predictability could all matter, some of my kids' food preferences made a little more sense.
Again, sometimes a kid just doesn't want what you made.
I personally also have foods I don't like and nobody has yet made me a sticker chart about it.
But gagging, panic, extreme avoidance and very consistent texture or smell issues made me pay closer attention.
5. I thought, “If you held it together THERE, why are you losing it HERE?”
This one can really mess with your head as a parent.
Teacher:
“They had a GREAT day!”
Amazing.
Because the child who apparently spent six hours being delightful walked through my front door and completely fell apart because their sibling sat in the wrong chair.
It can feel intentional.
Why can they control themselves for everyone else and not for me?
But school can require an enormous amount of regulation.
Sitting.
Listening.
Transitions.
Noise.
Social interactions.
Following directions.
Keeping track of belongings.
Ignoring uncomfortable sensations.
Trying not to stand out.
By the time some kids get home, there's just not much left.
Home is where everything finally comes out.
Does that make being the person standing there when it comes out particularly enjoyable?
Absolutely not.
But understanding what may have happened during the six hours BEFORE the meltdown can completely change how I see the six minutes I'm standing in front of.
6. I thought basic grooming was becoming a power struggle
Brush your hair.
Brush your teeth.
Cut your nails.
Wash your hair.
Put on sunscreen.
These are not unreasonable requests.
So when every one of them becomes a negotiation, it's really easy to think:
Why does EVERYTHING have to be a battle?
Then I started actually thinking about what some of those things feel like.
A brush pulling across your scalp.
Nail clippers pressing against your fingertips.
The vibration and taste of a toothbrush.
Water running over your face.
Sticky sunscreen being rubbed into your skin.
None of those sensations particularly bother me.
That doesn't mean they don't bother someone else.
That shift didn't mean grooming suddenly became optional.
My children still need teeth.
But it changed my goal from:
“How do I make them stop fighting me?”
to:
“Is there another way to get this done that their body can handle better?”
Different toothbrush.
Different toothpaste.
Detangling spray.
A different hairbrush.
Sunscreen stick instead of lotion.
Small changes can remove surprisingly big fights.
7. I thought the reaction was WAY too big for what happened
This may have been the biggest one.
The wrong cup.
The sock feels weird.
Their sibling moved something.
You cut the sandwich incorrectly.
You said we're leaving in five minutes.
And suddenly you have a reaction that seems approximately 700 times larger than the problem.
My instinct used to be:
THIS cannot possibly be about THAT.
And sometimes...
I was right.
It wasn't.
The tiny thing I was looking at was just the final thing.
Maybe they'd been dealing with noise all day.
Their clothes had been bothering them.
School was hard.
They were hungry.
Something happened with a friend.
They were holding themselves together.
And then I handed them the wrong cup.
Congratulations to the cup.
It got to be the final straw.
Now, when a reaction seems completely out of proportion to what just happened, I try to look backward.
What happened before this?
Because the thing that triggered the reaction isn't always the thing that created all of the stress behind it.
The biggest thing that changed wasn't my kids
It was the question I was asking.
I used to think:
Why are they doing this?
Now I find myself asking:
What about this is hard for them?
Those questions sound almost identical.
They're not.
The first one can put me immediately on the other side of my child.
They're doing something.
I need to stop them from doing it.
The second makes me curious.
Maybe they're avoiding something.
Maybe they're overwhelmed.
Maybe there's a sensory piece I haven't noticed.
Maybe there's a perfectly reasonable boundary I still need to hold.
Or maybe they're just being a kid who really, really doesn't want to brush their teeth tonight.
Sensory-aware parenting doesn't mean assuming everything your child does is sensory.
It means considering sensory needs as one possible piece of information instead of automatically assuming intent.
That has made me a much better detective.
And sometimes, I can actually remove the problem
This is probably the biggest lesson I've carried into Parker & Talia.
There are so many things in my kids' world I can't control.
I can't turn down the volume in the school cafeteria.
I can't make every transition predictable.
I can't control whether today's strawberry turns out to be one of the mushy traitors.
But when I discover something that's unnecessarily making life harder?
I want it gone.
That's how I approach the products I make too.
If a tag is bothering sensitive skin, why does it need to be there?
If a waistband digs in, can I make it softer?
If thick fabric feels overwhelming, can I change the fabric?
If the traditional seam across the toes is making socks miserable, can I put it somewhere else?
I can't remove every sensory trigger from my kids' lives.
Nobody can.
But I can remove some of the completely unnecessary ones.
And sometimes removing one tiny fight from the day makes a much bigger difference than you'd expect.
SEE THE SENSORY-FRIENDLY THINGS I CREATED FOR MY OWN KIDS →
If you're just starting to wonder whether something might be sensory...
You don't need to figure it all out today.
Start watching.
What happens repeatedly?
What environments make things harder?
What happens before the reaction?
Does changing the texture, sound, clothing, food, environment or expectation change the response?
And maybe most importantly:
Stay curious a little longer before deciding they're doing it on purpose.
Sometimes they absolutely are.
Again: children.
But sometimes the behavior that makes absolutely no sense to us makes perfect sense once we understand what their body is experiencing.
I wish I'd known that sooner.
It would have saved all of us a whole lot of arguments.
And possibly several hundred pairs of rejected socks.