Personal

Day 4

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I suppose technically it’s day 5, but the day is still going for me, and my kiddo’s didn’t sleep until nearly midnight tonight. We had plans to go out, go to the library cafe and get some air – but, as most plans with any pressure, things went a little haywire at home.

We had some real moments of dysregulation from everyone, and I found myself joining in the chaos instead of anchoring as a space for calm. Part of this may have been yet another phone call from the NHS informing me that I’ve had appointments made for me that I have no intention of attending, and have already spoken to a real human about; added on to the sore nose from K’s headbutts and the kids grumping over breakfast options, it’s no surprise I wasn’t exactly the poster for gentle parenting today.

However, what I was was real. Authentic. Honest. I told them that I had a headache, and that it would be helpful if we could rest and read or cuddle for a bit. We attempted to play Simone Says – it did not work! We attempted some games of imaginary play – they did not work because each child wanted a different game. We attempted a dance it out party. When everything failed, I put a film on, and even that was a little bit of chaos because it was the wrong one. So chaos descended … and when everyone had had their cries and cuddles, we all came together, played fetch with the dog, and had snacks. Honestly, it sounds pretty okay writing it out, but there were a few moments in there where I thought “well fuck, I am done with today”.

But here I am, and we turned the day around. After the chaos and cries and cuddles, we played, we sang, we read a few books, and then K asked for bed. So he fell asleep and P was listening to his audiobook, and A decided she wanted to play stickers. In the end, P and A played while I pressed t-shirts, they helped and made games with the used vinyl and then got the crystals out. P took himself off to bed again and A asked if she could walk around the house with a candle for blessings and protection. We lit one and I followed her as she walked, telling me that the fire energy was protecting the house, and that when she’s an adult she’ll be able to light the candles with a lighter like me.

It has me thinking about repair, and about how, though yes I was deep in the midst of my lizard brain too today, having a practice that I can lean on helps bring me back. I apologized to P once we’d settled and said, even though yes I was upset and they were upset and everyone was shouting, it is ultimately my job to keep them safe, and they don’t deserve to be yelled at because my big feelings explode. His response, as ever was perfect “I knew you’d say sorry mummy, and it’s okay, we all went a bit crazy with our volcanoes but I still love you”.

They have so much grace. So much space for forgiveness. So much love.

Before A slept, we had a similar moment where she said “I am proud of us mummy, we got angry and sad and then went back to being friends”.

This is why I am so adamant that we can repair. It isn’t about never getting it wrong. It’s about being authentic, messing up and making up… and when we have days like this, where in some moments I worry that I’ve traumatized my kids and passed on or created negative beliefs, I also am given signs from them, and the universe that ultimately, we do the best we can with the resources we have. Today I ran out of spoons, and so did they… but we made more. We made up. And though yes, they might remember the moments of shouting and upset, all I can do is hope that the moments of repair are more impactful than the ones of rupture.

Tomorrow we are off on an adventure… tonight, I am grateful to be living this life.

With love,

Rohana x

Day 3

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

What a rollercoaster day!

I’m showing up here, reminding myself that I’m committed, and also absolutely exhausted. The day has been filled with noise from my kids, and my brain is seeking quiet dreams. As I type, my 6yo is cocooned in bed, chatting to himself, and the others are finally snoring.

P has just told me that when he cocoons, its because he’s tired, or sad, or angry, or out of energy. It’s his way of saying, this is a way for him to feel safe, enveloped in the folds of the the thick blanket, he enjoys the comfort, and seeks it out when he feels things get too big, or when he wants rest.

His explanations never cease to amaze me, because though I have already understood this tool in his toolbox, he’s verbalising it to me, and that feels expansive.

Tonight I’m thinking about creation. Specifically about the phrase create more than you consume. I bought the kids cameras after many many months of toying with the idea; and today they’ve been busy capturing all the things… around the house, each other, random shots and details, and of course lots of blank or blurry ones too. It has been so wholesome to watch, especially after our trip to Wales a few weeks ago, where they were all keen to have a go with my DSLR, and actually had a lot of fun posing for pictures and instructing each other from behind the camera.

It was the tipping point for me in buying these for them, and I’m really impressed so far, but of course aware that day 1 is novel, and so curious to see how they will stand the test of time.

They are creating… and seeing them create is one of the most interesting experiences of parenting so far for me. Seeing how they express their energy, create movement, games and different forms of art, each in their own way.

I find it strange to call myself a creative person, because through school I was often pushed to be more analytical, less creative, leaving that to the actual artists. Its something as I reflect on, I am determined to repair for my own children; because though I might not share much of what I create, I am essentially always working on some kind of creation…

From doodles to beaded animals, jewellery to nail art as a child and then teen, to now as an adult, cresting digital art, exploring watercolours, making t-shirts or posters, creating home ed resources or spaces in our home; and of course, art from behind my camera lens is one of the most powerful forms of storytelling for me.

Create more than you consume.

I hadn’t thought about our life in this way before, but I think we do… we are constantly creating, living in a dance of inner worlds, ideas, projects and plans. I’ve learned how to create more play with my children, and I see them bring new ideas to life every day.

We are creating, all the time.

It’s not a stretch then to think we create our reality… but that thought is for another day! I’ve got snuggles waiting with P.

💕

Oh, before I go, just for fun, have you created anything to bring you joy today? Can you? … go do it!

With love,

Rohana  x

Day 2

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I’m back. Today I did a yoga practice, took the kids to the park, and have spent the last couple of hours working on sublimation t-shirt prints that I am making to fundraise for Gaza. It’s been a good day and I am exhausted in a joyful way.

The eclipse yesterday sparked a few conversations which felt authentic from a home ed point of view, and today things have felt calmer. The wind was strong but the sun came out and my kids played for hours outside. Then we came home and they played here, before tuning in to a new programme so I could rest. My body, at 31 weeks of growing another human, has reminded me today, that I am not actually capable of as much as I used to be. My body, in it’s wisdom, asking me to honour the need for a slower pace, and to rest; because it knows, as changes come, rest will look very different soon.

Tonight I’m thinking about rest, and about yoga, breathwork, and Palestine. I am thinking about how my body, growing our baby dragon is able to ask for rest, to ask for nourishment, to be held safely. I am privileged, and as in every pregnancy, acutely aware of it. This time, far more resourced, far more ready, and far more willing to listen; while also being aware that women, just like me in many ways, are carrying babies through stress, heartbreak, displacement, famine, and phycological warfare as well as genocide. I have learned, more deeply in these past months than ever before; how to hold solidarity in my body, bare witness and look away when needed, coming back, and trying to create ripples of healing.

The past 6 months I have delved into learning more deeply about pregnancy, our experiences in the womb and how we are in fact so much more aware and impacted even before life earthside begins; and as I have learned, I have grown in my knowledge, and in my belly; and in my capacity to practice compassion while NOT jumping into overwhelm. I have tried to protect my baby from the stress, while not disappearing into a bubble (a previous, very effective strategy of mine).

As I type, I think of the women who don’t have the choices I do; who are birthing to the sound of drones, who are carrying through loss and change more tumultuous than I can cognitively comprehend; and I feel a sense of understanding… I know in my bones, from lives before this one, that these experiences will not break them; because the resilience passed on is just as strong as the trauma. I have a sense of real solidarity, compassion and also rage. I am burning… and that fire has led to these t-shirts that sit before me; a way for me to fundraise a little, a way for me to contribute more than contaminate. That fire has led to something bigger too; a project I worked on for weeks, pulling in different people to help, and creating resources. Small, and still, ripples… ripples that I can see and ripples that I can’t.

I hope that this baby feels those ripples; the burning inside me, to do more and also to honour rest. It isn’t something I have gifted my other babies, already earthside teaching me daily. I didn’t know how to then; but now, I am doing what I can, with different tools in my toolbox… I can feel them wriggling inside me, dancing in my belly (and making me need a wee!); and I am beyond grateful for the lessons.

Until tomorrow,

With love,

Rohana x

Day 1

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I have been avoiding this; so here I am day 1 of 40. Committing to myself, possibly as a way to, once these days are done, say goodbye to my blog and move elsewhere.

I have no idea what I’ll write over 40 days, but tonight, I’m musing over commitment, and how, I am so deeply committed to some things, but then others are so goddamn hard. I commit to projects, or people and last year I deeply committed to my own personal practice. This year though, I have tried and tried and continuously found myself avoiding or excusing a lack of consistency.

Perhaps it’s the lack of novelty that my ADHD brain thrives of.

More likely, I think it’s fear. Showing up for myself was a fun experiment last year… but this year, it feels like IF I show up and ask myself to stretch, I might actually grow and change is hard. My type A control freak inside is squirming… because ultimately everything about this year has screamed a lack of control.

From an unexpected, joyfully (and quickly) manifested pregnancy that has me on the path to meeting our 4th baby soon, to a house move, new courses and opportunities, healing work that I have delved into and research that has me continuously taking notes, feeling triggered, and requiring space from. My kids have kept me on my toes more than ever and friendships have evolved through heartbreak, joy and curiosity. I am genuinely in love with my life, and also feel like there’s a whirlwind going on, and I have to accept that none of it is within my control.

So committing to this, 40 days of writing… is within my control. And that is scary! And exhilarating.

Tonight; my ramble on commitment has lead me to this thought: When I commit to myself, I heal the spaces where my ancestors didn’t have the opportunity to show up for themselves in this way, and I pave new paths, create new neuropathways in my brain, and in small steps, create spaces for my children and those afterwards, to commit to themselves with more ease. I am doing this work slowly, one trembling, uneasy, curious baby step at a time.

I like the idea of that, because when baby’s start to walk, though they are bold and headstrong, they are also trembling… and committed. The intrinsic motivation of a little person taking their first steps is one of the most incredible things to see… doesn’t matter how much they mess it up, they keep coming back, and of course they do it.

If I consider my commitment to myself over the past 6 months like that; it’s kinder, more graceful… it’s been a lot of hesitant steps, backing away, and now I’m trying again.

Tomorrow, we’ll see what comes;

With love,

Xox Rohana

“Freeze” as a stress response to parenting

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I wrote recently about 3 steps I use as a quick way that I try and move out of a ‘fight’ response when my kids trigger me, and I based my writing off of conversations with other parents too, creating essentially a mini strategy that is helpful moving away from fight and into a space of connection.

Since then however, almost as though the universe has been prompting me, I have found myself not reacting in anger or annoyance, as much as I have felt exhausted, unbothered and in a mood where I just want to say “do what you want then!” I suppose if my kids were older, or if I were a different parent, I would – but thankfully they are little and I am working hard to break away from old mainstream cycles of parenting.

So instead, I leaned in to my toolbox, resourced myself and now I’m choosing to write about it.

The freeze response is, in many ways a little bit hidden. It wasn’t until my oldest was nearly 6 that I understood it in the way I’m about to share; so if it feels new, don’t worry, it is!

‘Freeze’ is a survival response, and we know that when being threatened, if freezing is our body’s best survival strategy, then that’s what we’ll do. It isn’t a choice… because ultimately, our body’s are far quicker at making decision than our minds can catch up with.

However, in parenting, especially parenting little ones (and I’m guessing teenagers too!), when we move into a freeze response, it’s often masked as a feeling of apathy or exhaustion – the kind of response where your kid does something again and instead of getting angry or even upset, you move into the whatever, it doesn’t make a difference kid of mood.

It’s when I doom scrolling Instagram reels or the putting TV on just so that they’ll stop arguing… where the energy to do anything is zapped away.

Freeze is not a choice... in my experience, its often a sign of burnout.

However, like with fight, there are ways that can help move away from it. As parents, this isn’t a long term solution, and it doesn’t replace actually doing the work of healing and understanding why we feel like this in the first place, but, it can help in moment to moment parenting; where we need a quick fix until we can carve out some time to dig deeper.

How?

Well, the essential thing to understand here is that FIGHT is a sympathetic response to a trigger; where our bodies have decided that, in order to survive the threat, we need to fight our way out.

FREEZE is not like that, it’s a parasympathetic response. Often you’ll hear energy workers etc say that parasympathetic is good (which it can be) because it is our ‘rest and digest’ system, BUT that isn’t always the case; because in fact, the freeze response is an exaggerated rest response, in an attempt to survive whatever threat we perceive to exist. Think how an animal plays dead to avoid becoming prey; our bodies will perceive a threat, and make the decision to ‘play dead’ by becoming lethargic, apathetic or avoidant in order to survive.

So….

To get out of this, we need some activation. Which means, shaking, moving, dancing, getting motivated or, eliminating the perceived threat. Since the housework isn’t going to do itself, and dinner will still be uncooked after a doom scroll, elimination as a parent is probably not likely – our kids will still be shouting for us even if we can’t imagine what they could possibly need now.

Therefore, once we realize we are freezing, the next thing to do is get moving. Put some music on, do some dragon breathing or kapalabati (if safe to do so), shake or jump or, my personal favourite the past few weeks has been to find an easy dopamine hit. As my ADHD brain moves into freeze and I know that I need to get out, I’ve found that having a quick fix of dopamine is a real help. Snacks are a winner. Music absolutely. AND a small side project that brings joy with only a small amount of effort or time – for me this has been working through some photography edits. Anything that won’t be a hyperfocus but brings joy works brilliantly.

Ultimately, freeze is a sign of taking on too much, and being overwhelmed. As a neurodivergent human, this is something I didn’t understand affected me more until I learned that it actually does. So if you are ND then solidarity! And if you’re not, then that doesn’t make your overwhelm any less valid, it literally just means you’ll find it in different spaces or be able to tackle it with the same or different tools.

It isn’t a sign that we are failing.

It isn’t a sign that life is too hard.

It isn’t a sign that we can’t cope.

It is a survival response to our situation, and a nudge from our body (and the universe) that something probably needs to change for us to thrive.

With spring here, Ostara this week and the earth in the northern hemisphere beginning to bloom, I encourage you to walk outside with bare feet on the earth… grounding into a bigger energy is something that I deeply appreciate and have leaned on a lot recently. Finding a practice that brings joy; and breathing outside with no goal other than to just exist for a few minutes. Walks at the beach or somewhere with water are also a firm favourite.

If you’re in freeze, I see you. It won’t last forever.

With love,

Rohana x

3 steps to moving away from ‘Fight’ When our children trigger us

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

The word trigger is a buzzword on social media, so forgive me for using it here. Being triggered isn’t something to take lightly, and in various contexts, can be a life saving mechanism of the body. For me, here I use it because the word expresses the causal factor to starts the chain reaction from an event with our children, to the point where we react somatically. It is the first domino in the line … that often, though not always, causes a rupture in our relationship (this goes for parent and child, friends, siblings and even partners; all in their own similar and unique ways).

Before I carry on; I’d highlight that ‘Fight’ is only 1 of the responses that can occur; and in a series of writings this month, I will be covering the other 3 as well.

Picture this: you’re playing with your kid, they’re having fun, you’re relaxed, the atmosphere is easeful. And then, they make a noise, or do something to hurt a sibling/toy or break a house rule. It activates you – you’re body goes from peaceful and playful into anger. The action or sound is the first domino, and your anger is one of the next. Your anger is BIG, you might not say anything, or you might shout ‘no’ , look at them in angry way or do something like turn away – they sense the change in energy and they mirror it… and then you’re both angry, both upset, and after a shout or stomp their end, maybe even yours, you walk away… angry and puzzled at how something so minor became such an issue.

Your whole body is tense. Your nervous system is right up there in anger… your sweet little child, in that moment became a threat, and your ‘fight’ mode has been well and truly activated.

It isn’t because you want it to be, but rather because ‘fight’ is a body response to threat, and our brains cannot really tell the difference between actual threat and perceived threat. Add on probably years of messages compounded into our subconscious about what is okay and not, and our habitual response is to get angry and want to fight out of the situation.

Luckily toddlers are graceful, and we can absolutely rewire patterns that mean we change the way we react. Understanding where ‘fight’ shows up in our bodies, and acknowledging it is the first step.

For me, when I get mad (often when my kids fight with each other and rough play moves to attempts at intentional injury) I feel it in my hands and my throat. I want to shout, my belly tenses and my hands tingle. It is a sign that I am out of my rational brain and have moved into my amygdala, the primal response part of my brain, and my body is in survival.

When I fight, I yell. I shout and in my body have my own little temper tantrum… something I have actively worked on understanding, healing and changing for the past 4 years.

Before I understood this, my kids felt like little monsters when this happened. I couldn’t understand why but I would feel so overwhelmed and wonder how they were the same child… sometimes I fall back into this but its rare now; usually even in my anger I can see they are doing their best and the first domino could have been prevented if xyz had changed. So after the rupture, we tell a story, and try and figure out what needed changing; if I should have stepped in sooner or if we needed to redirect etc.

So if step 1 is finding ‘fight’ in our body, then what comes next?

Step 2, is accepting it. Easier said than done, but it truly is essential. Anger is our somatic experience of boundaries being crossed or pushed. It is the way our bodies are communicating with us, well before we have fully processed what the first domino was. When we accept it, we dissipate some of the energetic charge it holds. We feel it, allow it, and then, as if by magic, being seen/felt/acknowledged, the heaviness lifts and we can change it.

That’s not to say don’t ever go back, feel and heal as needed, but in the moment, when we want to avoid major ruptures, or just know that now is not the time to explode because reacting in an adrenal response isn’t really the ideal form of parenting (unless it is because there is actual danger – in which case, ABSOLUTELY react! Get your kid out the road, away from the ledge or whatever other danger may be present) and moving into a grounded space is a band aid, but it won’t address the root of the problem. To do this, requires deeper, intentional work, not an in the moment kind of medicine. The bigger healing comes in many forms, and though I have my preferences, there is no ‘right way’.

Step 3 then, is MOVE. Make our bodies shake, laugh, dance, get out the room, squat down to a toddler/child level, bounce and then look at them to listen; stretch upwards and take breaths to feel your chest expanding as much as is comfortable, or, do anything that allows movement. Sometimes this means saying out loud “wow, i have some angry energy, I need to shake it out, can you help me?” which is especially effective with younger kids because it both affirms that it isn’t their fault, and it gets them learning how we can healthily change the tone of a conversation. I don’t have a 1 size fits all, but movement is my tried, tested and absolute favourite way to change energy away from anger and fight, into a space where we can build connection, repair if needed and work through whatever boundaries need to be asserted.

On a good day, I use this without even thinking, making a game or changing the play to include more movement for everyone. On a harder day, it takes intentional pause, feeling the feelings, saying sorry for yelling and making a choice to walk, move and make changes to whatever is going on. A bonus is getting outside in the sunshine if its available, or taking a bundled up walk to find something cool – again, way easier with younger kids, but not impossible with older ones; a walk to pick up a favourite snack, dinner ingredient or catch some pokemon or whatever thing they are into works as well.

And that’s it, 1, 2, 3. They are simple. They are accessible. They are also really hard to remember in the moment, and it takes practice (just like life).

Raising Humans ~ A poem

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall


My child is not a toy
Or a blank slate to be molded
My child is not bad
Or naughty to be scolded

His sister isn’t mean
Her brother isn’t rough

They’re humans learning to live
And life can be tough

We criticise children
Without giving them their dues.
Children are among the most oppressed
Of our society – though it’s not news.

We don’t respect them
We constantly correct them
We tell them to stop, don’t talk
We make them walk
Even when their tired

Our children’s childhoods
Are endangered
And it’s definitely our fault
Somehow we’ve forgotten
We’re raising humans
And so we default,
To old age tactics of shame and blame.
To bribery and tears.
We seem to think our children won’t be scarred,
By us belittling their fears.

My children are not blank slates
Or performing monkeys doing tricks
And neither are yours
Or yours.
Or yours.
They’re humans
And raising them is politics.


How can we talk to (young) kids about politics?

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

With the current state of the world and the International Court of Justice hearings the past couple of days, I’ve been thinking a lot about the way I want to involve my kids in politics; given that my educational background lies in the subject. I’m writing this after my son asked what I was listening to and so, I shared, in as much detail with age appropriate resources as I could.

Political discussions with our kids is controversial issue between my husband and I, because though we agree we don’t want to shelter them entirely, we also know that our children, (especially oldest) is highly sensitive, and striking a balance is hard. He actively worries about death, and takes a lot to heart; so not oversharing or making things too gruesome is a priority.

So what can we do? I think about these things: Share about what’s going on or hide it? Is there a line where its’s too much? Where is the line? What happens if we cross it? How much is sharing political views and how much is imposing our views rather than entering into discussion?

Keep in mind, my oldest child is not yet 7, so a lengthy debate with sources and citations is probably a few years away; but does that mean I shy away from it entirely? No.

Instead, I’m choosing to talk politics in a way that works for our family.

This means, I’m sharing the ongoing bombardment of Palestine and elements of the history including Oct 7th, through play.

PLAY is the way our children process things, so to me, it makes sense that we should talk about politics through play.

We talk about bodily autonomy, we’ve spoken about birth-rights, we’ve spoken about the climate crisis, all through play before; this approach works well for us.

Today, as my son asked about the ICJ and what was going on (he couldn’t hear it due to my earphones), and we were just about to go back to playing Pokémon, I decided that the best way to explain it was using the Pokémon toys and creating a battle scene, where some were fighting, others were supporting and then there was a court of judges (also Pokémon) who were being asked to listen to and pass a judgement on the battle.

In using the toys, the intensity of what is going on was transferred to the toys; which made it accessible for my son, but also gave me the mental space I needed to play rather than assume we can talk about the dynamics of the situation. In doing this, time and time again I am shown that not only is play a brilliant method of communication, I am also able to hold space, work through questions – such as “why doesn’t Squirtle’s team do it like this?” or “why can’t all the Caterpie’s hide safely?” in a way that gives us so much scope for coming up with creative solutions and brings in elements of problem solving and conflict management that, in today’s play, gave my son the chance to work it out between the Pokémon, so that when they did all figure things out, the outcome worked best for everyone.

I understand this is utopian; but it works for us right now. As they get older, we may add in harsher elements that give more room for understanding the scopes of reality, but that is something that will come through play too, as they process, ask questions and develop responses where they understand that there isn’t always a clear winner or loser in life. We did this with Star Wards characters a few weeks ago, and my daughter, though younger found much more joy in the stories, branching off in her own spins to talk about how some win, some lose, and some have to say sorry, help fix buildings and some get lost in space – demonstrating that it isn’t always an age or stage, but the tolerance a child may have to cope with events of horror.

For my daughter, story telling and drawing is one of her chosen mediums of working things out. It is her play. For my son, it’s imaginary play, with characters we act out or toys we hold. Both are valid. Both have room to explore complex human emotions and situations. And importantly, both give me as the adult, room for impartiality, room to contradict, and room to support; in a way that a political debate with real life events probably would not do so graciously.

This is our set up today.

If you are debating talking to your kids about politics; in any scope, I implore you to consider this approach. If you are totally against it but not sure why, I’d say this allows you to be distant enough that it doesn’t have to resemble anything, but gives you a chance to test waters. If you are already speaking to your kids about politics, I’d love to hear how those discussions go (if you’d be up for sharing of course!).

With love,

Rohana x

Recommended Reads – 10 of my favourite parenting-ish books

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I wanted to write something meaningful to start the calendar year. I’m still hibernating and retreating into my audible library, as well as actual real life books, so this feels like a fun way to share and be of benefit.

In no particular order, I’ll share some of my favourite books with either a birth-y or parenting theme. I’ve accumulated these over the last 7 years, so it’s not an exhaustive list, but if you’re looking for something good, I’ll say my standards are pretty high so those that make the cut will be thought provoking, note-taking worthy and sometimes triggering (in a growth kind of way).

I have read and listened to a variety of books, and some parenting ones don’t make the cut here because with this selection, I’d say you’ve got a fair balance of research based books, often that draw on others too, so I’m essentially trying to save you time – these are mostly easy to digest, mostly available as audiobooks, and all with information that will impact you as a parent (and human) in some way.

Oh and also, disclaimer, none of these are because I’m being asked to advertise them – I just had a moment of inspiration!

1. Raising Free People – Akilah S Richards

This book was one I didn’t know I needed to hear until I did, and now, since buying it in 2021 I have listened to it 4 times. It is like a hug. It is truth-telling, soul-warming and absolutely hard hitting in the spots where it needs to be. If you are going to read any book about raising humans, regardless of your schooling choices (because it is technically an unschooling book) this would be the one I would recommend. If you are considering a life without school, this book is, in my opinion, a must read! I was hooked from the very start.

2. Extraordinary Parenting – Eloise Rickman

Eloise is one of the most incredible educators I have come across in my home education journey. I found her by chance in 2020, just before the first UK lockdown. I have taken a few of her online courses and when she published this book, I pre-ordered it, knowing I would absolutely want to read every word. It did not disappoint. My copy has little post it tag notes, highlighted bits and dog eared pages throughout. It is an affirming read. It is radical and warm and about small revolutions rather than a big one, and it is through this book, and Eloise’s other writing that I first really understood the idea of advocacy for children, not just in my home, but globally.

3. Unconditional Parenting – Alfie Kohn

This book is a classic. I have included it here because it was my gateway into the world of peaceful parenting in 2018. It was through Alfie Kohn that I saw my son, not as a baby who I needed to look after, but really as a person beyond me. It was in these pages that for the first time, I didn’t feel guilty and overwhelmed, but hopeful; and though I still had so many lessons to learn, this book flung open the door for me to break away from mainstream parenting, in a way that I wasn’t confident enough to do so fully before.

4. The Birth Debrief – Illiyin Morrison

WOW. This book was immense. I listened to it over the course of a few weeks as part of a research project in late 2023, and it went above and beyond what I had hoped. What I didn’t expect however, was to find language and validation for my own births, because I thought I had pretty much processed everything there was to process – I had done a lot, but there was still enough for these words to feel triggering, soothing, comforting and then peaceful. For anyone who’s had a baby, or supported a birth, this book is a wonderful read.

5. It Didn’t Start With You – Mark Wolynn

The book was part of my 2020 lockdown book binge, because while parenting took up a lot of time, having both of us home, meant I got time to read and invest in myself. This is probably one of the hardest reads in this list, where there are triggering points, dull moments and overall a sense of ‘what is actually real then?’. It is also a book that I would recommend to pretty much anyone, parent or not, because it opens up the idea that we carry stories in our bodies from those who came before us. There are more recent books (I’m currently reading My Grandmothers Hands by Resmaa Menakem and this goes into similar themes), however, I would say that It Didn’t Start With You has a special spot in my own personal journey, and it feels more apt to have it here. The ideas in this book, epigenetics, trauma, ancestral lines, they are all themes that have stayed with me since reading it, and have informed many of the choices I’ve made to study, heal and break cycles where I can. Importantly, this book also gave me a sense of appreciation for the journeys of my ancestors, and though I wish I knew more about my family lines, it was through this book that I began to have the courage to ask.

6. Free To Learn – Peter Gray

One for the unschoolers here! This book was my first read into our education system and the way kids learn when we don’t interfere. It is still one I reference and I wish I had a physical copy because audible does only take you so far. That said, I know I wouldn’t have fallen in love with audiobooks without it, because this book was what catalyzed my decision to home educate. I was curious beforehand, but certain after listening to it; it showed me that I could give my children more than the school system could, and so far, it hasn’t been wrong. That said, while after reading it, I went through a period of being anti-school, I’m at a much more balanced space now where I can see the benefit it has for those it works for. This means, one of my children is in preschool, and my older child is firmly in the home-ed camp. If you’re struggling in the school system, it is a book I’d recommend, however, it absolutely won’t be for everyone.

7. Rise Sister Rise - Rebecca Campbell

Okay so this wasn’t really parent-y but it absolutely transformed my relationship with myself, and therefore also my children. Reading this book, doing the practices and seeing myself in a new light has catalysed my relationship with my children in a way that words don’t do justice to. It was in some ways the first book that made me consider how to be a good ancestor, as opposed to just being a descendant. In this, I also began to see that though we inherit trauma, we also inherit strength.

8. Playful Parenting – Lawrence J Cohen

I am slightly obsessed with the ideas of play therapy and this book brought a lot of them into accessible and ultimately realistic words which I could digest, contemplate and then implement. I read it in 2023, after I’d had it on my shelf for nearly 2 years, and I wish I had prioritised this one sooner. Probably one of my favourite books now, because although it was a little repetitive with examples, it also meant I got lots of potential viewpoints to consider and with my children each being at different stages, it gave me some really wonderful material to work through. It isn’t the most captivating read, and I had to put it down to mull over things at points, but for me that is a mark of a wonderful book.

9. Let them Eat Dirt – B. Brett Finlay & Marie-Claire Arrieta

I read this one in early 2020, and it was thrilling. I had been curious about much of the parenting practices where we give kids more autonomy and trust, but had fears over hygiene (to an extent) and so was worrying, especially after some illnesses and scary moments with my firstborn. This book highlighted why I felt uneasy about giving them medicine for the sake of it; why it was better to have a slightly ‘dirty’ house and child as opposed to hand-sanitizer at every corner, and why, when the option is available, a vaginal birth has many health benefits. What I particularly loved about this last point is that the book spoke directly to the fact that medical intervention is going to happen because in this day and age, not only can it save lives, but also create a sense of empowerment; and so rather than end with ‘vaginal birth is optimal’ it also gave suggestions about how, when birth is via cesarean, we can still provide our babies with the influx of good bacteria that they would get through the birth canal. As a newly trained doula back then, this was exactly what I needed to hear in order to support families through whatever choices worked for them.

10. There’s no such thing as bad weather – Linda Akeson McGurk

This is a book every parent should read. I’m guilty of hiding in ‘bad’ weather. I also try to a lot less since reading this. This book demonstrates how it isn’t the weather that is our problem, but rather the fact we aren’t prepared, or can’t be bothered, or in many cases, just don’t know how to brave a harsh day outside because it’s habitual to hide. I am someone who fully advocates for hibernating when needed, but equally, getting outside makes a world of difference for every single member of my family; this book gave me the confidence to find more balance, and to say f*ck it, suit and boot up and go get wet in puddles because it builds resilience and gifts our children the opportunity for joy all year round, not just when the sun shines.

The End

That’s my top 10. I could add a few more, but maybe I’ll do that another day. For now, if you read any, I’d love to hear what you think. If you’ve already read some and fancy a chat, let’s do it in the comments! And, if you have a book rec you think I’d enjoy, get in touch and let me know. I’m always looking for another good read to add to my giant pile!

For now, enjoy x

Rohana