Rhizome Movement

16/09/2026

26/08/2026

03/08/2026

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.

23/07/2026

Dance x OT Open Day. Fri 24 July, 4pm, Mudgeeraba. Everyone welcome.

14/07/2026

22/05/2026

!!! 💛

06/05/2026

A lot of my work with younger clients is playing games. Uno is a favourite, not many rules to remember, limited variables, fast paced enough to stay engaging, fun for all ages, the list goes on. It also allows me, as the support person and practitioner, to have some control over which way the game goes. I always start with the question “friendly mode, or hardcore mode?” (The wording here is deliberate). I’ve worked with kids who start with friendly mode, and build up confidence to try hardcore mode, others who move back and forth between the two depending on the day and how they’re feeling. It’s all practice in recognising their own fluctuating emotional needs and boundaries. I love, and also practice, this understanding that our clients already experience enough “hardcore mode” in their every day lives. We all deserve a space to experience a good dose of “friendly mode” too. 🏆

I had a child in a session recently who has a really challenging time with losing games, as many children do.

A lot of the games I play in session, I can—and do—intentionally lose, or let the child win. Most of my clients need to experience the safety of more “wins” under their belt. They have plenty of things they can’t do, and struggle with, and are hard, and are upsetting, in their everyday life. They need the feeling of more wins, not more losses.

But when we play a wholly luck-based game I can’t always throw it. Sometimes I can sneakily fudge a dice roll or spinner spin to make myself do worse, but not always.

This game involves rolling 3 dice. If you roll a button, you get to take a button from the center “pot”. If you roll an arrow, you steal one from another player. If you roll 1 monster, you do nothing, but if all 3 dice show monsters, you race to grab the monster stuffed animal.

So not only does the game have a win/lose condition at the end (who has the most buttons), but it has win/lose or prickly situations embedded throughout: it’s a bit prickly to steal someone else’s button, and it’s a bit of a loss to grab for the stuffed animal too slow and the other person gets it.

This child wanted to play this game so I said okay even though I thought it might be a bit hard for them to tolerate me stealing their buttons. But if only 2 people are playing there’s no way for me not to steal them if I rolled an arrow. Unluckily for them, I rolled 3 arrows in my first go. Then 2 in my second go. I wasn’t gloating or taunting, in fact I was apologetic as I took their buttons. They were the kind of simmering quiet that is a warning. But they were regulating it. They were doing hard, hard work.

Somehow we made it through the whole first game and I managed to finagle a dice roll at the last second to make sure that they ended up with 1 more button than me and won the overall game. This was a big relief for both of us. All the little losses throughout were truly plenty of practice without a big loss at the end.

Then, they wanted to play again.

I was very surprised and could also feel that I wasn’t sure that they could manage more losses without big upset. So, I offered an idea. What if another stuffed animal (in this case a beanbag beetle) played with us as the 3rd player? The child would roll for the beetle and manage the beetle’s buttons.

This meant I had a safe patsy to steal buttons from in lieu of the child. This also meant the child got twice as many “wins” against me — stealing my buttons as themself; stealing my buttons as beetle. This ALSO meant that we had a third party whose emotions we could talk about! The degree of removal from self really helped the child articulate how the beetle was feeling much more easily than they could about themself. It didn’t feel as vulnerable.

By the third game we had upped the ante. Now we each had a cone defending our buttons. Mine, of course, was entirely permeable and not at all defensive. The beetle’s was midway, and the child’s was a solid object, impenetrable (not that I was stealing their buttons anyway). I ended the game with a meager 1 button, to the beetle’s and child’s delight.

Wins and losses, by self and by proxy, and emotional regulation all around.

[image description: a picture of the game which is called “Fuggler dice game” after the brand of the little monster guy. The cones, buttons, and beanbag beetle are set up as described in the post. End description.]

12/03/2026

Another beautifully spot on piece by Annie Ridout 💕

23/02/2026