I used to only read for escape — fiction that helped me unwind after long days filled with meltdowns, meals, and messy rooms. And honestly? That kind of reading still matters. But over the years, I’ve started reaching for books that do more than entertain. I’ve started reaching for growth.

Parenting a neurodivergent child has pushed me to confront every part of myself — the impatient parts, the reactive parts, the tired and unsure parts. I realized that if I wanted to parent differently, I needed to keep learning. Not just about ADHD or anxiety, but about myself.

So I started reading non-fiction — slowly, inconsistently at first. But the more I read, the more I noticed something shifting. I began responding instead of reacting. I caught myself mid-pattern and made a different choice. I started leading with curiosity instead of control.

I wake up at 4:45 a.m. — not because I’m a morning person, but because it’s the only time I get to myself.

By 6:30, my son is awake. By 7:15, I’m out the door if I’m headed into the office. Between prompting him to get dressed, brushing my teeth in a hurry, and mentally running through the day, my mornings could feel like total chaos.

But they don’t — at least not always — because I’ve carved out this quiet ritual that happens before the rest of the house stirs.

My routine isn’t glamorous. It’s 90% habit and 10% survival. But this little window of time gives me the emotional reset I need to meet the day with more patience, clarity, and energy — especially when parenting a neurodivergent teen.

Here are the tools I use every morning to stretch, ground, caffeinate, and recenter — even after a night of broken sleep or big feelings.