Why I Created The Giggle Garden

Growing up in regional NSW in the '90s, I remember hearing a lot of things about ADHD - "too much red cordial," "naughty," "hyperactive" - the kinds of stereotypes many millennial Australians can relate to. As a neurotypical kid, I had minimal interaction with the neurodivergent community, and any perceptions I had were undoubtedly misguided for the next decade or so.

Fast forward to Melbourne during the pandemic, with lockdowns giving us all more time on our hands. My husband, like many, spent hours on TikTok to pass the time while everything felt at a standstill. He began seeing videos of people around the world realising what was really happening in their minds - forced out of their routines, out of the hustle, and without the daily distractions, people started to uncover what lay beneath. This was the beginning of his exploration of his brain, and eventually, as our baby turned one, it led to an official ADHD diagnosis and suspected autism.

I won't tell my husband's story - that’s his to share. Maybe one day he’ll tell it here, as a member of The Giggle Garden team. But, like many late-diagnosed adults, there were equal parts relief and grief. Relief at having a name for what he had felt all his life, and grief for the child he used to be - the one who heard, "If only you applied yourself," or "You're just a little quirky," instead of being taken seriously. And don’t even get me started on the waitlists and the financial stress of getting that diagnosis in the first place.

That’s not the end of the story; it’s just the beginning. From about six months old, our son started displaying habits and characteristics that were a little "different" from what I expected. By the time we reached his 18-month maternal child health check, it was clear that some milestones weren't being met, and other signs pointed toward neurodiversity. This was when we started navigating the NDIS, tackling support waitlists, forms, and the mountains of admin work - tasks that, as an 'outsider', felt anything but neurodiverse-friendly. But we kept pushing forward, and eventually, we built a support team that includes an occupational therapist, speech therapist, and others.

Of course, there have been comments like, "He's too young," or, "It doesn't seem like there's anything wrong with him." To that, I say - you’re absolutely right! There is nothing wrong with him. He’s perfect just the way he is. His brain works differently, and right now, it needs a little extra watering to blossom and bloom. When a plant isn’t thriving the way we expect, we don’t change the plant- we change its environment.

We’re just beginning this path as parents of a neurodiverse child, and for my husband, as a neurodiverse parent. But it quickly became apparent to me that there weren’t many places where children, neurodiverse or not, were celebrated for simply who they are. It seemed like everywhere I looked, there were rigid boxes for kids to fit into, and I knew this was the last thing any child needed.

I started waking up in the middle of the night with ideas, stories, and concepts that celebrated little minds of all kinds. It felt like a sign - these ideas weren’t just for me. I had to do something. And so, I began to plant the seeds of The Giggle Garden.

The Giggle Garden is more than a brand. It’s a space for little minds, regardless of how they think, learn, or play. It’s where imagination blooms and where every child is seen and celebrated just as they are. With a growing collection of products, resources, and my soon-to-be-launched first children's book, I hope to create a space that uplifts not only the kids but also the parents, carers, and professionals who nurture them.

Thank you for being part of this journey, and welcome to The Giggle Garden — where little minds bloom.