Self-Care for Special Education Parents: What It Really Looks Like in Chaos
- jacksonsadvocacy
- Sep 20
- 4 min read
We hear it all the time: “Parents, make sure you practice self-care.”
And sure, that sounds wonderful. Spa days. Brunch with friends. Long weekends away.
But if you’re raising a child with significant needs, that picture doesn’t match your reality.
We can’t just hop on Care and find a babysitter. Our children need caregivers who are trained, patient, and safe—which narrows the list to almost no one. So self-care becomes another thing we feel guilty for not doing “right.”
The truth is, self-care for special needs parents looks different. It has to.
When “Finally Friday” Isn’t a Break
For most families, Friday is a relief. Social norms say you’ve worked all week, now the weekend is for rest.
But for us, weekends often mean more work, not less. There’s no school, no therapies, no built-in childcare. Unless respite is lined up, we’re still on duty—full time, full intensity.
So while others are heading to brunch, we’re managing meltdowns, coordinating meds, and running our homes like 24/7 triage centers.
Stress That Shows Up in the Body
And the toll is real. A Psychology Today article reported that mothers of autistic children show stress patterns similar to combat soldiers.
Now, let’s be clear: combat soldiers are heroes. Their experiences on the battlefield are vastly different than ours. But the research highlights this: our nervous systems carry measurable, chronic stress. We’re braced for the next meltdown, phone call from school, or middle-of-the-night crisis.
It validates what many of us already know in our bones—this life is heavy, and our bodies never fully power down.
Why “Just Rest” Doesn’t Work
That’s why I laugh when people say: “You need to rest.”
Rest? Even if I sit down, the thoughts don’t stop:
Am I doing this right?
Why can’t I be more patient?
Am I failing my child?
What will their future look like?
These questions play like a movie on repeat. Meanwhile, while other parents worry about soccer tournaments and uniform bags, we’re thinking about whether our kids will live independently—or who will care for them when we no longer can.
Rest, in the traditional sense, isn’t an option. Which means we have to redefine it.
The Question We All Hear: “How Do You Do It?”
People ask me this all the time.
The truth? We don’t have a choice.
We run on fumes, scrape together sleep when we can, and keep moving. It looks like:
Scratch marks and bite marks on our arms.
Sprinting through parking lots when a child elopes.
Scrubbing bowel-movement “art” off walls at midnight.
Living in constant overstimulation—echolalia on loop, crashing toys, endless noise.
Children constantly hanging from your arm or pressing their forehead into yours—love, yes, but relentless.
We don’t do it because we’re superheroes. We do it because we love fiercely, because our kids need us, and because we learn to regulate in chaos.
Grounding in the Middle of Chaos
Forget bubble baths and naps. Real regulation happens in the bathroom, the car, or the kitchen while pasta boils over.
Mirror notes: Write affirmations on your mirror with a dry-erase marker. A message like “You are not failing” stares back at you daily.
Bathroom reset: Lock the door, run cold water over your wrists, splash your face. That sensory jolt interrupts spirals.
5-4-3-2-1 grounding: Name five things you see, four you feel, three you hear, two you smell, one you taste. Pulls you into the present.
Object anchor: Keep a smooth stone, textured fabric, or stress ball in your pocket. Grip it and describe it to yourself.
Humor as medicine: Open your “chaos playlist”—memes, TikToks, inside jokes. Laughter resets the nervous system.
Quick body reset: Wall push-ups, stomping your feet, or shaking out your hands to burn off adrenaline.
One-line journal: Write a single sentence: “We got through today.” Survival counts.
These aren’t luxuries. They’re survival strategies.
The Unexpected Beauty of Our Journey
Here’s the paradox: sometimes the hardest parts of this life give us the deepest joy.
Just this week, my 12-year-old learned to tie his shoes.
For most families, that milestone comes early and quietly. But for us, it was monumental. He rarely shows big emotion, but this time he jumped up and down shouting, “I did it! I did it!”
It brought tears to my eyes. Because if it had been natural and easy, I wouldn’t have felt the joy so deeply.
That’s the gift of this journey—we get to celebrate big. We get to experience joy in ways the world might overlook.
Why Self-Care Still Matters
And that’s why self-care matters so much.
Not the bubble baths and spa days (though those are nice if you can get them), but the everyday practices that keep us grounded enough to notice the beauty. A pause in the car. Cold water over your hands. A laugh at the absurd. A note on the mirror that says, “You are enough.”
Self-care isn’t about escaping our children—it’s about strengthening ourselves so we can keep showing up for them. Because when we are steady, we can see the beauty in the chaos, and celebrate victories that others might miss.
Different doesn’t mean less. Different means beautiful.
And our children—and our journey—are worth every celebration.
💚 From one parent to another: you’re doing enough. And you deserve care too.




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