Regulation Supports at Home: What We Tried, What Helped, and What We Outgrew

A solo parent’s perspective on building emotional regulation with a neurodivergent child

When your child struggles with emotional regulation, you’ll try just about anything to help them feel safe, supported, and understood.

As a single parent, I navigated this journey largely on my own. No one handed me a roadmap. I had to build one—one appointment, one meltdown, one strategy at a time. I asked questions, followed hunches, and refused to stop advocating, even when the system delayed, dismissed, or denied us the help we needed.

What I couldn’t access professionally, I worked to build personally. I wove together a safety net of caring adults: friends, family, therapists, teachers, and support staff—anyone who could see John clearly and meet him where he was. Together, we helped him feel safe enough to grow.

Over the years, we tried countless regulation tools—some clinical, some creative, some homemade. Some worked beautifully for a time. Some didn’t stick. Others we outgrew. Every one of them taught us something.

This post isn’t about finding a magic fix. It’s about building a toolbox that evolves alongside your child. It’s about knowing when to move on, when to return to basics, and how to keep showing up—even when the system falls short.

Regulation Supports by Age Group

What helped us at different stages of the journey

Ages 3–6: Early Frustration, Sensory Patterns & Survival Mode

Focus: Creating safety while navigating a system that offered few answers

I started questioning whether John was autistic when he was just two years old. I saw things others didn’t: his difficulty with communication, his sensory sensitivities, his intense focus. I asked doctors, therapists, and educators—but was repeatedly told to “wait and see.”

Meanwhile, John was struggling. He knew what he wanted to say, but others couldn’t understand him. The frustration became overwhelming. He often retreated into his own world—pacing the perimeter of playgrounds, stimming in patterns that soothed him. He developed a fear of most insects—except grasshoppers, which he befriended like tiny companions.

We were handed vague labels: “communication delay,” “sensory processing disorder,” and a casual ADHD suggestion with no testing or follow-up. Autism wasn’t even discussed.

I tracked patterns obsessively—sound, heat, movement, smells, textures. I built structure into our home life. I created visual supports by hand. I embedded letter-sound play into everything we did. I co-regulated constantly. But I was building from scratch, with no blueprint.

What helped us:

  • Visual schedules and first/then cards

  • Compression shirts, fidgets, and weighted lap pads

  • Early calm-down visuals I made myself

  • Daily letter-sound and language routines

  • Sensory pattern tracking

  • Nature-based calming routines—especially time with grasshoppers

  • Hand-over-hand calming and motor breaks

I knew in my gut what the professionals couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say. But for years, I was navigating without validation or real support.

Ages 6–9: Helpful Tools, But Still Not Enough

Focus: Introducing structured supports—yet still locked out during dysregulation

By this stage, we had added more tools: Mightier, Safe and Sound Protocol, OT intensives, private therapy, social skills groups, and school-based services. We also enrolled in group programming and therapy through Boston Sensory Solutions, whose staff supported us across multiple settings—including OT, social groups, and even adaptive bike riding workshops.

John also changed schools during this time, which helped—but not enough.

He began learning Zones of Regulation and Social Thinking around age six. He could label emotions, complete worksheets, and mimic scripts—but none of it was accessible when he was dysregulated. Once his nervous system flipped into survival mode, the tools disappeared.

He couldn’t yet recognize emotional cues in himself. And when upset, he couldn’t use any of the visuals or prompts we had carefully set up. We were still in crisis mode more often than not.

We also identified specific triggers: gym, lunchrooms, recess, music and art classes. These parts of the school day led to meltdowns or shutdowns. After several explosive events, we pushed hard and finally accessed comprehensive testing.

What helped us:

  • Mightier – biofeedback game that built stress awareness

  • Safe and Sound Protocol – filtered music to support nervous system regulation

  • Zones of Regulation and Social Thinking (understood, but not yet usable in distress)

  • OT and sensory-motor support at school and through Boston Sensory Solutions

  • Social groups and private therapy

  • School change for improved daily support

  • Trigger pattern tracking across the school week

  • Relationships with trusted adults who showed up consistently

Each tool made a difference—but none could reach John in the moments that mattered most.

Ages 9–12: The Diagnosis We Waited For

Focus: Getting real answers—and understanding why nothing had worked

At age 12, John was finally diagnosed with autism. It came after nearly a decade of uncertainty, advocacy, and misdirection. Through full neuropsych and educational testing, we also received diagnoses for ODD, ADHD, SPD, anxiety, depression, and social pragmatic communication disorder.

Another major discovery came through visual testing: John’s eyes were working independently, sending different messages to his brain. The constant mismatch created fatigue, visual overwhelm, and chronic sensory stress. This explained so many of the struggles we had seen but couldn’t name.

We began working with a developmental pediatrician who helped us develop a comprehensive care plan. With care and supervision, we introduced medication to reduce sensory overload and open space for learning and regulation. We’ve since been able to eliminate one medication and reduce another—while continuing the ones that help John navigate a sensory-heavy world with more comfort and confidence.

At this point, John had internalized the entire Zones of Regulation and Social Thinking framework. He could explain it to others—but he still couldn’t access it when dysregulated. That part of his brain still shut down. It wasn’t behavior—it was biology.

What helped us:

  • Comprehensive neuropsych + vision testing

  • Autism diagnosis at age 12

  • Diagnosis of visual processing dysfunction

  • Medication plan focused on reducing sensory intensity while preserving function

  • OT carryover strategies

  • Continued use of Zones and Social Thinking as a shared language

  • Individual staff who co-regulated and adapted

  • Letting go of activities that consistently overwhelmed John

This was the turning point: when we stopped asking what John wasn’t doing, and started asking what he needed to feel safe.

Ages 12+: Strength, Ownership & Stability

Focus: Regulating through movement, identity, and self-advocacy

At age 12, John entered a fully supportive school designed to meet his sensory, emotional, and learning needs. Around the same time, he joined Inclusive Fitness, a neurodivergent-affirming gym that pairs trauma-informed coaching with strength-building routines tailored to sensory needs.

For the first time, John’s nervous system began to settle. His baseline shifted. The scaffolding we’d spent years building finally had a stable foundation to stand on.

John’s confidence grew. He began identifying what worked for him, setting boundaries, asking for breaks, and reflecting on challenges in ways he never could before. While he still takes medication, we’ve been able to reduce his overall dosage—and always aim for the least amount necessary to maintain a high quality of life.

What helped us:

  • Inclusive Fitness – strength training and confidence-building in a neurodivergent-safe space

  • A school placement that fully supported regulation and sensory needs

  • Personalized music playlists and sensory retreats

  • Regulation through walking, stretching, and movement

  • Journaling, drawing, and scripting his own support routines

  • Self-advocacy and clearer communication of needs

  • Ongoing, responsive medication plan

This phase hasn’t been about fixing John—it’s been about creating space for him to feel whole.

What We Learned (and What We Let Go Of)

  • Co-regulation comes before self-regulation

  • Tools must be accessible—not just available

  • It’s okay to outgrow a strategy

  • Diagnoses don’t limit—they clarify

  • The environment matters as much as the tool

  • Solo parenting doesn’t mean parenting alone—you can build your village

Want to Start Building Your Toolbox?

You don’t need fancy tech or a giant budget. You need tools your child can learn to trust.

I’ve created a Free Resource Library —with visuals, scripts, sensory ideas, and reflection prompts to support your journey.

👉 [Get access to the Free Resource Library here]

Final Thought

Regulation isn’t a lesson you teach once.
It’s a language. A rhythm. A relationship.
And it takes time.

If you're tired, overwhelmed, or wondering if what you’re doing is enough—this is your reminder:

You're doing the most important thing.
You're showing up.

And that’s where healing begins.

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Katherine Powers

Kate Powers is a neurodivergent educator, author, and artist based in Boston. She is the founder of Creativity Heals—a space rooted in compassion, expression, and practical support for caregivers, twice-exceptional (2e) families, and late-diagnosed parents.

With over a decade of experience teaching special education in public schools, Kate weaves lived experience with professional insight. She’s also the creator of the Little Dragon picture book series, and a firm believer in the healing power of story, art, and self-advocacy.

Whether painting desert blooms, writing children’s books, or supporting parents navigating overwhelm, Kate’s mission is simple:

To offer tools that calm the chaos, honor neurodivergence, and reconnect us with our creative core.

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