Autistic parenting: baby and toddler groups

​As an Autistic person, I face multiple barriers in trying to navigate a world that's not set up for me. The unpredictability of daily life is overwhelming, and wherever I go, I anticipate sensory threats, e.g. noises, lights, smells, temperatures, and crowds. I also experience interpersonal distress because of frequent communication breakdowns with neurotypical people. My communication style can be misunderstood. People may not give me enough processing time when they talk to me, which increases my executive functioning struggles. This Double Empathy Problem often arises when I am out in the community because of the fast-paced nature of interactions. 

 

Baby and toddler groups can bring added sensory and social demands. Unspoken expectations about how to interact — with other adults and with your child — can feel overwhelming. There seems to be a “right way” to parent in these spaces: children sitting still at story time, sharing, and following group norms. When your child moves, regulates differently, or doesn’t fit these expectations, it can draw judgment. If you parent differently — using neurodivergent-affirming, child-led, or trauma-informed approaches — you may feel scrutinised or seen as “not disciplining.” Even when you know your approach is supportive, it can still lead to self-doubt.

​

Conversation topics can feel repetitive: milestones, percentiles, sleep, returning to work, dieting, and holidays. I crave deeper, authentic connection, but modifying my communication for social politeness comes at a high cost — physically, cognitively, emotionally, and sensory-wise. Masking is a trauma response and a form of self-protection. In these social situations, I may act “more neurotypical”: forcing eye contact, suppressing stimming, hiding sensory distress, rehearsing social scripts, or monitoring my body constantly. At groups, I sometimes wear ear defenders to manage overwhelming noise, but this can make others hesitant to interact with me. The internalised ableism — “I shouldn’t wear these, what will people think?” — is a constant challenge.

​

Groups can offer brief moments of respite, where my toddler plays while I engage in small activities I enjoy, like playing Tetris. Yet even then, I sense judgment, worrying that others think I’m neglecting my child. Most sessions leave me fatigued, disconnected, and excluded. I sit, smile, nod, and pretend interest in conversations, avoiding personal or emotional topics. I rarely speak about my sensory overload, anxiety, or struggles with executive functioning — how the noise, textures, or constant stimulation overwhelm my brain and body.

​

Many Autistic people carry trauma from health, education, and social care experiences, yet services often remain rooted in deficit-based views of autism. Neuro-inclusive parent groups can help with low-arousal, sensory-friendly activities. Even better are Autistic-led or shared spaces, which provide the social belonging that is so deeply needed. And lastly, to group facilitators, please don't call me "Mum".