Before motherhood, I measured time in checklists and deadlines. Productivity meant crossing things off. Rest was earned only after exhaustion. And silence? That was just the gap between one task and the next.
Then I became a parent — and not just any parent, but one to a beautifully unique, neurodivergent child. And just like that, the pace of everything changed.
The Lesson I Didn't Know I Needed
My child doesn’t rush. He doesn’t care that there’s a schedule. He doesn’t move on just because I say it’s time. If he’s captivated by the swirl of bathwater or the feel of squishy putty between his fingers, the world can wait.
At first, I fought it. I was used to moving. To managing. To multitasking.
But slowly, I began to see what he was showing me:
Presence is not a pause. It’s the whole point.
Rediscovering the Small Moments
I started noticing the little things again. The sparkle in bubbles, the way water sounds when it splashes against the side of the tub, the way my child’s entire body relaxes when he's allowed to just be.
He taught me that connection isn’t made in the big gestures — it’s built in the quiet, ordinary spaces. A shared giggle. A steady hand. A moment of eye contact that says, "I see you."
These are the memories that last.
Not the ones we chase. The ones we sink into.
From Hustle to Heartbeat
FluffyGlowfish was born in those moments. It’s not just about sensory play — it’s about experience. About helping families like ours find joy in the pause.
Because our children are often the wisest guides.
They don’t care how fast we go. They care that we’re with them.
And honestly, when we slow down, we realize: so do we.
A Gentle Reminder for Other Parents
If your days feel messy or behind, if your child isn’t following the “schedule” you imagined — you’re not failing. You’re being invited to see the world through their eyes.
And it’s beautiful here. Slower, yes — but softer, deeper, and filled with a kind of magic that only reveals itself when we stop trying to control the clock.
So today, take a breath.
Sit a little longer.
Watch the water swirl.
Let your child lead.
You might just find yourself again, too.
Best Wishes
Samantha Joubert