by Dr Amy Homes, CEO & Senior Clinical Psychologist at Shore Psychology 

If you’ve found yourself wondering whether your child might be neurodivergent, you’re not alone. Many parents reach this point after months, sometimes years, of noticing patterns that don’t quite fit: big emotional reactions, sensory sensitivities, social struggles, or challenges with attention and/or impulsivity. Is it ADHD? Autism? Anxiety? A mix of things? And where do you even begin? 
Many parents worry if an assessment is the right next step for their child. As a parent of a neurodivergent child, I understand these fears— and how complex the decision can be. 

Start with the right question: what’s going on for my child? 
A good assessment isn’t just about getting an answer. It’s about making sense of the whole picture: your child’s strengths, challenges, and the environments they’re navigating. 
ADHD and autism can overlap, and some traits can look similar. For example, a child who appears distracted may be struggling with anxiety, sensory overload, or social stress. 
That’s why a high-quality assessment should explore context as well as symptoms. 

What should a thorough neurodiversity assessment include? 
A reliable assessment needs to be detailed, evidence-based and carried out by a qualified clinician with experience of working with children and young people. The clinician should take time to understand your child’s story (not rely solely on questionnaires), consider information from school, and spend time with your child in person. A quality assessment should also take into account how children might present differently depending on the environment. 
At Shore Psychology, assessments follow NICE guidelines and are delivered by an experienced multi-disciplinary team. This matters because it brings more than one professional perspective, helping us build a rounded understanding and draw clear next steps. 
Families often tell us the difference is in the depth and thoroughness of our assessments—we take the time to understand the ‘why’ behind the difficulties, not simply naming them. 

Every house has a morning routine. A rhythm. Patterns of behaviour that, over the years, form your household norms. They are different for everyone. In my house, until recently, it included the phrase: “Where are your shoes?!” 
Followed shortly after by: “No… seriously, where are your shoes?!”
Followed by: “I literally put your shoes here last night, where have they gone?!”

This fiasco always ended the same way. With me panicking that my nine-year-old was about to miss the school bus, which I should point out inconveniences me far more than it does him. He couldn’t give a toss. He has absolutely no sense of urgency whatsoever.

Now, as you scoff at my parenting style, I’d like to point out that my twelve-year-old gets herself up, dressed, fed, completes a full skincare routine that is more in-depth than anything I have ever achieved in my life, and gets herself to high school an hour earlier with no such hassle. And has done since she was six. (Although I’ll admit the skincare routine is new.) Same house. Same parents. Very different kids.

Every morning, this little shoe-related treasure hunt involved me searching all over the house, shoving the shoes on his feet and escorting him out to the bus stop with seconds to spare. At 8:18 he would wander, bleary-eyed and unfazed, onto the bus. I would turn around, sigh and take the dog for a walk before work.
Him missing the bus means I have to drive him to school, which messes with our perfectly crafted morning routine. It annoys the dog, which means he bugs me all day. It means I miss my cup of tea, which is unsafe for everyone I then come into contact with. The whole day just feels off.

Unwittingly, I had fallen into a trap. Even more frustratingly, it’s a trap I regularly work with others to break free from in their professional lives. I had become the architect of my own prison of enablement. I had inadvertently taught my son that he didn’t need to put any effort into finding his shoes, because he knew I would do it for him. And so the cycle continued. Until it didn’t. Until I let him miss the bus. Until I let him walk in late and have to explain why to his teacher.

This was in no way a shame tactic. It was the application of some very simple behavioural psychology. Actions have consequences.

Unless, of course, you repeatedly remove the consequences. Shelter people from them. Protect them from every discomfort or adversity that comes along. Which is a very natural instinct for many of us. To love. To coddle. To protect. But as they grow, we can end up removing the opportunity to experience what is, in my opinion, one of the most important learning experiences of all. 

The opportunity to fail, to make mistakes and to deal with the consequences of our actions.
So one day, I took a stand. I didn’t participate in the search and rescue mission. In a shocking turn of events, he is perfectly capable of finding his shoes.

This kind of enablement is often referred to as learned helplessness. It shows up in lots of small, everyday ways. In children who immediately say “I can’t” before they’ve tried. In teenagers who give up at the first hurdle. In adults who quietly decide “I’m just not good at that” and never go back.

At the mild end, it looks like the twenty-year-long nonsense between me and my husband. Him wrapping gifts badly in front of me, safe in the knowledge I will fix it. Me stacking the dishwasher in a way that would make him lose sleep if he didn’t realign the clumsily placed bowl to his exact specification.

We do these things without thinking. To be helpful. To be kind. To keep the peace. But what we are really teaching is: you don’t need to try, because someone else will step in.

Martin Seligman, one of the founding figures in positive psychology, talks about the difference between learned helplessness and learned optimism. The belief that setbacks are permanent and personal, versus the belief that they are temporary and changeable. One leads to giving up. The other leads to resilience. And resilience doesn’t appear out of nowhere. It is built. Slowly. Through experience. 
Here is the uncomfortable truth…

If we never let children struggle, they never learn that they can cope. If we never let them fail, they never learn that failure is survivable. If we never let them be disappointed, they never learn how to manage disappointment.

We think we are protecting them. But often, we are just postponing the learning.

Because life does not remove consequences. It does not soften every edge. It does not step in to fix things. And one day, our children will be in situations where we are not there to rescue, to buffer, to tidy up the mess. The question is not whether they will face challenge. The question is whether they will trust themselves when they do.

We are not raising perfect children, we are raising capable ones. We are not trying to eliminate discomfort, we are trying to build capacity. We are not trying to make life easy, we are trying to make them strong.
Strong enough to try. Strong enough to fail. Strong enough to try again. And that starts in the small moments; the shoes, the bus, the forgotten homework, the wobbles. Not in the big dramatic moments, but in the ordinary, everyday ones.

​So yes, I have stopped the daily shoe hunt. Not because I don’t care. But because I care enough to let them learn. It’s time to let them find their own shoes. 

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Alice Beveridge is an applied positive psychologist, coach and speaker who works with schools, leaders and organisations to build confidence, resilience and human skills. She is also a mum of two, which means most of her learning is tested daily in the chaos of real life.
For more articles and advice like this you can follow Alice on Substack where she goes Beyond the Small Talk every week: https://substack.com/@alicebeveridge

That might sound crackers because it’s counterintuitive - rules don’t sound like fun, and many of us enter parenthood believing family life should tick blissfully along without the need for anything as dull or dogmatic as rules. But laying down some ground rules is the quickest route to a happier and more harmonious family life, and even beautifully compliant kids will benefit. 

Of course, most families already abide by rules of some kind. Whether you laminate them and stick them to the fridge door or muddle through adhering loosely to an invisible set of unwritten ones, rules usually emerge in most households. And they don’t just shape your family life - we know from neuroscience that a child’s early years are hugely significant in shaping later life, so it stands to reason that the rules your children grow up with at home are likely to influence them all the way through until they’re the ones making them for their own families. 

But if you’re anything like me, it can be all too easy to let the rules just sort of happen by accident. Yes, I instituted responsible, considered rules like ‘gentle hands’ and ‘kind words’ when my lads were toddlers, and a few too many impassioned squabbles between them led quickly to the ‘no biting’ rule - but in most other areas, I am woefully inconsistent about the rules. 

‘Absolutely no more TV before school!’ I declared in the car on the school run after one particularly fraught Monday morning. But a few days later the boys were miraculously ready for school half an hour early. Spotting the chance for a rare moment to enjoy a cup of tea, I sheepishly turned on the telly. As I slunk off with my cuppa my boys whispered conspiratorially about how I must have forgotten the ‘no TV’ rule.

So you’ll understand why we felt the need to overhaul the family rules when my youngest started school - it was a sort of coming-of-age opportunity to remind our lads that they’re big boys now (and big boys definitely do not bite) and to update the rules accordingly.
I thought I’d share what we learned…

Involve the children
No one likes having rules forced upon them, and unsurprisingly, children are much more likely to respect the family rules if they’ve been included in the process of setting them. 
My friend, Aisling, has a ten-year-old son and a one-year-old daughter. She advises explaining the reasoning behind the rules to children, to make it clear that they serve a real, practical purpose and aren’t just arbitrary enforcements designed to curb their fun. 

‘Lights out at 8pm is a strict rule in our house and I’ve explained to my son that it’s because our bodies need sleep so that they can heal and grow, and that enough sleep is important to give your mind a rest. If Josh understands why a rule is set, I find he’s happy to abide by it’, Aisling explains. 

Dos are better than don’ts
Positive rules - such as ‘do have good manners at the table’ - usually work better than negative ones like ‘don’t misbehave at mealtimes’. Kids find positive rules easier to understand and adhere to, and even if you end up repeating them endlessly, they make you sound much less like a fishwife. 

Michaela is mum to two little boys aged six months and two and a half. She has a positive family rule that helps reduce whinging; ‘Happy faces and happy voices are required - otherwise some alone time in our room is obviously needed. It works amazingly with our toddler, Oscar, and also with my husband.’

Rules need consequences
Of course, rules don’t really work without consequences. Some kids will happily comply with the rules in much the same way that adults are law-abiding citizens by nature, but others need a consequence to keep them on the straight and narrow and deter them from breaking the rules. 
My colleague, Liam advises instigating positive consequences for sticking to the rules instead of punishments for breaking them. A sticker chart or small treats can work well as incentive for younger children.

A simple reminder of the rules is sufficient for relatively minor rule breakers but for some more ‘serious’ offences, such as hitting siblings, I do recommend an appropriate punishment. When you set the rules discuss and explain the consequences, and how rewards and punishments will work. 

Be consistent 
Once established, the secret to making family rules work is the same as making good gravy; consistency. I’m rubbish at this - but once the family rules have been agreed, try writing them out (put the kids to work on this if they’re old enough and can write vaguely legibly) and display them somewhere prominent. You’re more likely to enforce them if they’re somewhere highly visible. My husband and I find that racking our brains to remember the rules in the middle of a heated conflict with the kids doesn’t really help us look as if we’re in charge. 

​As another year draws to a close, it’s all too easy to get caught up in festive preparations without stopping to think about what the past 12 months have brought. But pausing to reflect on the outgoing year could be a more meaningful – and magical – practice than you might expect.

I totally get it if the very thought of mentally rifling back through the year to ponder its gifts and challenges makes you feel ill. Me too. I couldn’t be less mindful if I tried, and my default is to hurtle from one deadline to the next without stopping long enough to catch my breath, never mind meditate on the wonder of the moment. 

So hear me when I say this is not just another fluffy feature designed to make you feel bad because you plan on seeing out the year with a vat of sparkling wine rather than indulging in a sacred, spiritual ritual.

I’m simply saying that slowing down for long enough to think about the year that’s coming to an end is a good thing to do before rushing headlong into a whole new calendar of things to juggle.
My friend calls this taking a moment to watch the highlights reel. I was telling her about a particularly challenging family trip abroad, which my son later described as the best holiday of his life. I was so shocked that what felt like a disaster to me was nothing but delight to him, that it prompted me to wonder what else I’d been missing. Because I wasn’t looking at life like he does.

She told me about an article she’d read whereby the writer had a similar life lightbulb moment. In the middle of a thunderstorm, the author was dragging her screaming kids from the beach to their holiday house. She passed an elderly man, watching this debacle unfold, who said aloud to himself: ‘Those were the days’. 

She wrote, according to my friend, about realising that the small, unremarkable moments we take for granted are the very moments we’ll one day relish. That elderly gentleman, watching the chaos of a disastrous family holiday scene unravel, knew it was the stuff of which future fond memories are made. It was a highlights reel moment.

‘Here are your best bits’ they say on reality TV shows when a contestant has been voted out. And all of a sudden every sucky minute, every embarrassing encounter and every shameful statement becomes a moment to treasure. 

It’s the same with family life. Sleepless nights spent pacing the floor with a teething, inconsolable baby eventually fade from misery to cherished memory. Fraught mealtimes with picky eaters become the stuff of funny family legends, and disappointing holidays ultimately blur into charming experiences we’d give anything to relive.

As the famous saying goes: the days are long but the years are short. What we rush through today might one day have a starring role in the highlights reel of our lives. So why not slow down, even just a little, to make sure we capture them in full high-definition?

For me, this means taking quiet moments to myself to soak up the messy moments that I might otherwise miss. It’s a resetting of my perspective that means I linger to read just one more more book at bedtime, instead of rushing off to do something much more mundane, like load the dishwasher or catch up on the latest thing on iPlayer – things that will never make the highlights reel, yet which somehow get prioritised.

These are the days, and the ending of a year is the perfect time to take stock. What joys did this year bring that are worth reliving? What moments worth capturing have you not yet got round to printing out – and can you frame them for a wall as a festive present to yourself? What dark days did you survive this year, and how have they made you stronger or tightened your family bond?  

Taking time out – in the busiest season of the year – to think about what’s made it onto your life highlights reel this year might feel counter-intuitive. Actually, there’s no might about it. You’re bound to be wondering how on earth you’re going to find the time to slow down and savour life’s precious little moments. But let me just say this: I promise you won’t regret it if you simply make the time.

The things that occupy so much of our time and attention at this time of year are so rarely the things that actually matter. We know our kids won’t remember what they got for Christmas the year they turned seven years old. They’ll remember how childhood Christmases made them FEEL. So why not forget about the financial pressure to buy more than we can afford? Instead, focus on the small things that will eventually become the moments our kids will replay on their own highlights reel in years to come?

Pausing long enough to reflect on the triumphs and challenges of 2025, before hurtling at speed into whatever 2026 has in store, might just be the best gift you could give yourself this Christmas. 

​Relations with your in-laws are never more important than when you become a parent. It’s no longer just about managing their expectations when it comes to your plans at Christmas, or trying your damnedest to persuade them that you are everything they ever dreamed their beloved offspring might find in a life-partner. No, once you have children, in-law relations become mission-critical; get it right, and at the very least you’ve got willing babysitters on tap for the next 18 years. Get it wrong, and you’ll be kicking yourself for pretty much that period of time. To spare you that, we asked around for the best in-law survival tips and here’s what we we got…

•  Don’t take it personally
A friend of mine tells a toe-curling tale of the time her mother-in-law waxed lyrical about the unrivalled parenting skills of her hubby’s ex-girlfriend. To listen to my friend’s MIL, you’d have sworn the ex was Mother Theresa herself which, as you can imagine, left my pal feeling a tad inadequate. It didn’t help that she was feeling less than accomplished in the parenting stakes at the time and suffering from the baby blues. But my friend’s attitude was brilliant; rather than assume her hubby’s mother was deliberately trying to belittle her, she gave her the benefit of the doubt and assumed she meant no harm. She could be wrong, of course, but that strikes me as a fail-safe way to tackle tricky in-law interactions. Rather than waste energy worrying about why they’ve got it in for you and what you’ve done to disappoint them so, try assuming that your in-laws mean well. Yes, that could mean letting issues slide that you’d really be wholly justified in tackling but if they really have it in for you, console yourself with the fact that not appearing to notice will likely wind them up more than tackling their actions head on ever could. You win. Laugh in the face of unkind words (or move far away…) My friend Leanne tells a sobering tale. “My mother-in-law bought me a bed jacket when I first got married,” she says. “When my husband looked at her quizzically she said: ‘Well, you always marry such cold girls.’” Oof. Leanne’s advice for surviving the in-laws? “Move as far away as you can and limit all contact.” Alternatively, try laughing in the face of less-than-lovely comments from your in-laws. Easier said than done, sometimes, but experiences like Leanne’s can actually serve as fodder for a bank of secret in-law jokes between you and your other half, and there’s nothing like a private joke to unite you in the face of opposition.

•  Don’t forget you owe them
It’s easy for me to say this since I have certifiably the best imaginable in-laws in the world. (I really do, I’m not just saying that incase they read this.) But even if I didn’t, I like to think that I’d try to remind myself that overbearing in-laws are generally only so for one reason: because of how much they adore their offspring. Look, to put it frankly, you have your in-laws to thank for the wonderful being that you chose to shackle your life to until death does you part, after all. Would it kill you to let them bask in a little of that glory?

•  It ain’t about you
One friend still goes red in the face with anger when she recalls the time her mother in law came to visit and insisted on doing some washing to be helpful. “She washed my silk Agent Provocateur undies on a 60 degree wash and I still don’t think I’ve entirely forgiven her,” she says. “Actually, she’s my ex-mother-in-law now.” To those with truly overbearing in-laws, I offer this. If the barbs go beyond pointed to unashamedly hurtful and you’re sure you’re not being over-sensitive but are indeed a disappointment to your demanding in-laws, try to keep in mind that it’s not really about you. Those unkind sentiments are their issues, and chances are that not even Pollyanna herself could measure up to their standards. So quit trying - cut yourself some slack and instead of letting it get to you and mentally composing a million cutting replies to every insult or hurtful word, just be you without apology and trust that those hurtful words say more about the person uttering them than they do about you.

•  Appreciate the good ones 
It’s only in writing this that I’ve realised quite how fortunate I am to have utterly perfect in-laws. If you’re in the same boat, be sure to tell them how much you appreciate them. Oh, but even that doesn’t stop us having a few awkward in-law anecdotes up our sleeves, as my friend Sally testifies. “I love my MIL - we’re going on holiday with her this summer because she’s that wonderful to be with - but I’ve still never told her about that time she reached for a piece of my delicious homemade shortbread and chose the one with no sugar on it; the very one I’d been saving for our three year old because I’d licked the sugar off it in the kitchen earlier.”

•  Diffuse unsolicited advice
​Finding yourself on the receiving end of unsolicited advice from parents and in-laws is surely one of the toughest elements of in-law shenanigans. But instead of letting it rankle or trying to diffuse it by patiently explaining why health visitors no longer advocate a nip of brandy to help the baby sleep, try combatting it by asking your in-laws for advice. Heck, you don’t have to follow it but inviting comment from your in-laws can go a long way towards making them feel wanted and included in your lives, and it’s surprising how effective that can be in nipping unwanted advice in the bud. My friend Eleanor recommends this approach, and adds that letting unwanted advice trickle away like water off a duck’s back is a skill well worth learning in the interests of a happy family life. “I had my daughter by emergency c-section and my mother-in-law visited one day after I’d been up all night breastfeeding and was battling with the overwhelming emotions of my whole world having changed. While my husband was bathing our daughter she told me I was ‘lucky’ he would do things like that, as her husband never did. I had to just leave the room.” After all, you only have to pause to consider how much your baby means to you and just how very much you shudder at the thought of entrusting them into the hands or heart of someone you haven’t chosen or vetoed for yourself, to understand a little of what your in-laws might be going through. Which is where karma comes in, I do believe. Go easy on your in-laws and you have every right to expect that your offspring’s future partner might just do the same for you. 

Amidst this fast-paced, globalised world where ease of travel meets online dating, thousands of families are facing lifestyle questions when it comes to raising their multicultural children. Almost 25% of the Edinburgh population was born outside the UK, with that number continuing to rise, allowing for rich diversity and multiculturalism. 
​
Third Culture Kids (TCK) is a term originally coined by sociologist Ruth Hill Useem, who defines it as children who are raised in a culture other than their parents’ one and who might grow up in a different country for a large part, or the entirety, of their childhood.  

With regards to the term “third culture kid”, the first culture is the culture in which the parents grew up; the second refers to the culture in which the family currently resides; and the third culture is the fusion of these, the one to which the child will identify the most.

I’m a Third Culture Adult, who was born and raised in Chile by a South African father and Irish mother, moved to the UK to study, and married an Aberdonian. Our children are aged two and three and have already lived in three different countries. 

So how do we raise and guide our children on their own identity journey while keeping their rich heritage intact? How will they grow up understanding an ever-changing definition of home? 

Books
Books are a huge way of transporting us to different worlds. Be creative here. It’s not just reading to your children in different languages, but finding ways of incorporating parts of your culture in books. What are the iconic children books from your cultures? Are there national animals you can find stories about, or unique landscapes where stories are set? Are there certain myths and legends you could relate orally or find picture books that allude to them? 

In Edinburgh, books are hugely accessible – and often affordable – with the endless amount of second-hand bookstores and shops, charity associations and libraries. Most libraries also have a foreign language section, including the National Library of Scotland.  

Don’t forget Audiobooks, which are a great way to encourage stories in your home, and even better if they are in your home language. Audiobooks can be found on Audible, Spotify or even Tonie Boxes (there are now characters in Spanish, French and German) and are great to have on in the background during dinner or bathtime.   

Home Decor 
Find ways to incorporate home decor that evokes part of your cultures. This doesn’t have to be an expensive project. If you have family or friends visiting from back home, you could ask them to bring across a couple of prints, or ornaments from a local street market. In the midst of Latin America, I grew up in a house with wooden African sculptures and framed Celtic crosses. Even printing out a few of your country flags and dotting them about the house is a way for your child to get familiar with their nationalities. 

Holidays
Figure out what the important dates are for you and which ones you want to share with your family. Which ones did you celebrate growing up? You could each choose a few, and make sure to enjoy them. In each country we have lived in, we have always tried to celebrate Burns Night and 18 September (Chile’s Independence Day). Support each other when doing this too. If your kids see the whole household making the effort and being involved, they will all want to participate. For religious dates, find a local venue which you can celebrate rituals together. 

The German Church in Edinburgh has a thriving community of multicultural families and welcomes people of all denominations. As well as their busy programme of church services and non-religious social events, they celebrate seasonal holidays like Karneval in spring, St Martin in November, and St Nikolaus and Advent in December.

You could even find groups in Edinburgh (Facebook or Meetup Groups) who might be celebrating these dates, and join in the fun! 

Sports
Sports is an easy one to get on board, and a great way to practice the national anthems, wear the t-shirts and even find other supporters in your local pubs. In our home, we celebrate Scottish, South Africa – and even Chilean! – rugby. Bottom line is to support each other. You don’t want to create divisions between your kids and your spouse, so just all cheer along (even if inside you’re crying!) 

Languages 
Edinburgh boasts an array of dynamic children language classes, starting them as young as babies. Try and find classes that will incorporate languages with play, music and activity, like Say Hola With Me, who bring Spanish to life with in-person and online classes for everyone. 

From individual lessons to fun family sessions, they make language learning enjoyable and natural through stories, music, hands-on activities, and playful interactions.

Or, The Universe of Language that run fully immersive, play-based German groups for babies, preschoolers and school children, formal German and French classes for children and adults as well as one-to-one tuition for a variety of ages. 

It’s also very easy to put on a YouTube video in your home language, find a Spotify playlist, or put Netflix in your home language, so your child gets exposure. Peppa Pig has a great Spanish accent!  

Scotland 
Embrace Scotland. Scotland has an incredibly rich heritage, culture and history. If you’re living in Edinburgh, Scotland will be part of your children’s lives and what better way to explore it in such a captivating city. Learn as a family, and through your children’s eyes. Edinburgh has so much to offer and teach, not to mention the history steeped in the rest of Scotland. Visit the family-friendly National Museum of Scotland, or the first museum in the world dedicated to the history of childhood, The Museum of Childhood, hike up Arthur’s Seat, have an outdoor adventure through Jupiter Artland or simply saunter down the Royal Mile. 

The Universe of Language runs activity tours in Edinburgh for German-speaking children, teaching them about Scottish traditions such as kilts, songs, food, ceilidh dance and Highland Games, as well as about local plants and animals. 

The tours are held in German, and are great for small groups or individual families who have just moved here, or want to show their relatives or friends visiting from abroad something about Scottish culture.

Scotland is a proud nation, but a welcoming and inclusive one. The only thing to be aware of is its magnetic force. No matter how much I try and embark on a new adventure, I always end up coming back here. With multiple nationalities, I’ll gladly add one more to my list: Scottish. 

Growing up in a myriad of cultures can only be beneficial for your child, and it will encourage them to be adaptable, curious, tolerant and well-rounded people. Ultimately, your children will grow up learning about their cultures through your teachings, and they will associate their heritage with you and the home that you have made for them. While they might chase their own identity path through their surroundings, schools and friends, home will always be home, and that home will always carry an extraordinary unique value. 

Find out more
Claudia Esnouf is a writer based in Stockbridge, and a proud, over-exhausted mum of two boys who are just 11 months apart. She is author of Walk Like A Girl, recently published with Sparsile Books.

When my children were very small, my husband was offered a new job opportunity and we decided to pack up our home and move countries. We said good-bye to our ante-natal groups, book clubs, old friends. They say, ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ – and we hugged our own one goodbye. 

My husband worked hard, and I spent many a lonely day in our new, half-unpacked flat, with a newborn and a toddler that depended on me. The friends who would have come knocking – the ones who I wasn’t embarrassed to show an overflowing nappy bin, a kitchen covered in puree and a Lego-embedded carpet to – weren’t around anymore. 

The rare times that I managed to drag my two little ones out of the flat and into their pram, we ended up wandering the streets aimlessly, trying to find a coffee shop that would accommodate a double-buggy and that wouldn’t passive-aggressively bring an early bill when a tantrum incurred. 

I knew I couldn’t go on letting loneliness consume me. As much as I told myself that I could do this on my own, that I didn’t need a new ‘village’, and that things might get better in time, I could feel my mental health deteriorating. I felt myself becoming quieter and more withdrawn. Ultimately, my loneliness was preventing me from being the best mother I could be. 

So how could I help myself? How can I help the many others who are in the same boat? What’s more, if you’ve just moved here and you’re busy unpacking and moving in, while settling your kids into a new home, nursery or school, where does one even find the time to meet people? 

I’ve thought of some convenient, local and accessible ways that have helped me, and might help you meet some friendly faces and find some much-needed support. 

Think Local
Find your local park, soft-play centre or church hall. Many church halls now are venues for children centres, such as LifeCare Centre in Stockbridge. Even if you can’t attend any of the classes taking place, these venues will have pamphlets, flyers and newsletters about what might be happening in your local area, from pram walks (try Edinburgh Buggy Walks) breastfeeding groups (La Leche League), ballet lessons (Angela Watson), baby yoga classes (Tatty Bumpkin) or rugby classes (Rugby Tots). Trust me, it’s a lot easier to read a quick flyer than doom-scrolling on Google. 

Soft-play centres are also a winner when it comes to meeting mums in a secure environment where your little ones can crawl around and explore safely. MotherSpace, MakeBelieve – The Baby Place, Little Plaza and Time Twisters all provide coffee for us sleep deprived parents. 

Here are some of the tried and tested play parks around the city centre that are gated and secure, plenty of green space for running around, with an array of slides and climbing frames – and benches for you:
•    Inverleith Park Playground
•    Meadows Play Park
•    Victoria Park Play Area 
•    King George V Park 
•    Princes Street Gardens Playground 
•    Leith Links Play Park

Apps & Virtual Connections 
Sick children, grey skies and no way you’re making it out this week? Try Peanut, it’s a fantastic app to meet a local community navigating fertility, pregnancy, motherhood or menopause. Bumble BFF is another app that helps adults meet friends through similar hobbies or being new to the city, all within your local area.  

A key one for me was my neighbourhood Whatsapp or Facebook Groups. These are crucial for local recommendations, from good flat whites or a new restaurant, to a local handyman or dogwalker. These groups are also a great way to sell or buy items you might be looking for in your new pad, and there’s always plenty of kids’ toys and books going around. 

School Gates & Nursery drop offs
Hang on in there. It took me a few months of very stiff small talk to start developing more of a conversation with the same faces I regularly and quickly saw. Soon enough, your child might be going on playdates, school trips and birthdays and you will naturally become more familiar with other parents. 
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Finally – find something that’s just for you. As crucial as mum friends are, celebrate your other interests. Find a yoga class, a writing group, a book club – a cheese and wine group. Something you can carve into the diary, were you can create a kid-free moment. I finally prioritised some of my pre-pregnancy interests and joined a writing group. It gave me back some of the creative energy I thought I’d lost. It allowed me some time to think on my own, which in a way invigorated my mind and gave me something to be proud of, as well as some sort of independence from my home-life. 

We all struggle with Mum-Guilt, especially now where there is an online mass culture of perfection. We’re living in the age of ‘Momfluencers’ battling under the pressure of achieving the perfect career, family and personal balance. However it is key to remember that your children need you to be the best Mum you can be to them, and that requires you carving out some you time, where you can re-set and not always be running on a dead battery. 

Settling in, moving homes and making friends takes time. It took me over a year to make good friends, the kind of friend you can call up on the hour to grab a coffee, or who can pitch up at your messy flat unannounced. My tiny babies are now two and three, and I am typing this from a writing group, at 7pm, while my husband is at home with the kids. I say this, because at the beginning of my move, I didn’t think this would be possible.

I am still learning ways to balance motherhood, friendship and my own sanity. One of the main lessons I have learnt though, is awareness. If you see a mum on her own, you can help her out just by acknowledging her, having a quick chat, helping her lift a buggy, opening a door, picking up the dummy on the floor or creating space at a coffee table. We all need to help each other. 

It takes time, but you will find your village. And Edinburgh is probably one of the best cities to find it in.

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Claudia Esnouf is a writer based in Stockbridge, and a proud, over-exhausted mum of two boys who are just 11 months apart. She is author of Walk Like A Girl, recently published with Sparsile Books.

If I see one more advert or piece of editorial about how to have the perfect Christmas, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.

It’s not that I want to go all ‘Bah, Humbug!’ on you, but it’s taken me the best part of twenty years to realise that we’re being sold a lie with all this ‘perfect Christmas’ nonsense.

Why? Because, put quite simply, the notion of the perfect Christmas is as much a misnomer as the perfect wedding, the perfect birth or the perfect child. There simply is no such thing. 

What there *is* … is the wedding where the father of the groom trips over the front doorstep after collecting the cake and drops it on the floor the night before the big day – which still seemed perfect, despite those wonky hastily-stuck-back-on-with-icing-sugar flowers. 

What there also *is* … is a dramatically fast and scary birth with no time for much-needed pain relief, never mind filling the birthing pool for the peaceful water birth you’d been elaborately planning for nine months. 

Oh, and there are also the kids you got in the lottery of life, who are no more perfect than their far-from-perfect mother, but who you wouldn’t swap for all the tea in China.

See? No such thing as perfect, no matter what Instagram tries to tell us.

And then there’s Christmas. With its financial implications, overloaded expectations and exceeded budgets. It’s no wonder Christmas is one of the most stressful periods of the year for many, and a time noted for being especially busy if you’re a divorce lawyer.

Chuck in the pressures of family life – how to decide which set of in-laws to spend the big day with, whether the kids should be allowed to open all of their presents at 5am, and the whole question of how to make Christmas magical and memorable for your little people, even though you might be dealing with grief, relationship breakdown or  money worries. It’s no wonder lots of us feel more Woe-Woe-Woe than Ho-Ho-Ho about Christmas. 

So, this year, I’m taking it upon myself to remind all and sundry that there is simply no such thing as the perfect Christmas, and that the secret to actually enjoying the festive season is to wholeheartedly embrace this fact.

What that means in practice is accepting that families come in all sorts of strange shapes and sizes, and that not resembling the Waltons is no grounds for having a miserable day. Christmas, like life, isn’t about trying to live up to unrealistic ideals, to which none of us will ever attain. 

It’s about sharing Christmas with random relatives who’ve never once offered to host Christmas at their house; tolerating ancient aunts with funny habits; turning a blind eye to Grandpa falling asleep in the middle of the starter; and enduring parents bickering over the right way to brown a turkey. And, at the end of the day, it’s about realising that the kids, for whom every Christmas is perfect, don’t notice or indeed care about any of that stuff.

After all, the first Christmas, so the story goes, was far from perfect. No room at the inn, no crib for the baby, and surely a choice word or two exchanged between the main players about what on earth was going on.

I’m not alone in believing that the secret to the perfect Christmas is to wholeheartedly embrace the imperfect, either. I undertook comprehensive research on this topic (ok, I asked my mates on Facebook) and one friend admits she aspires to be more like a particular mum of four she knows. 
Does said mum pull off the perfect Christmas? She does, in her own way. She lets each child choose their favourite foods from Iceland and puts on an all-day buffet where everyone gets to eat their favourite things and mum gets a well-earned rest. Well done, that woman.

“Not getting dressed up, eating what you really fancy – usually bacon sarnies, Christmas pudding and a box of Thornton’s chocolates – all washed down with a mug of tea, is my idea of heaven at Christmas,” admits another friend.

One pal recalls a pearl of wisdom she once heard on surviving the madness of the average family festive season. “Every family has a drunken uncle or an unhinged aunty round the table at Christmas,” she says. “If you can’t think who that person is, then it’s probably you.”

I honestly believe that the secret to your happiest Christmas yet lies in embracing these difficult truths. So do yourself a favour this year. Lower your expectations. Buy frozen Yorkshire puddings. Laugh at the lunacy of the motley crew gathered round your dinner table. And, above all, try seeing Christmas through the eyes of a child whose sense of wonder blots out the imperfections. (Unless you forget to buy batteries, and then nothing can help you.)

Children don’t see the financial pressures, the emotional strain or indeed the point in eating sprouts. They see fun, gifts, festive togetherness, and at least several days ahead of getting away with chocolate for breakfast. What’s not to love?

Don’t be afraid to rip up the rule book and do Christmas according to your own rules this year. Several friends of mine swear by going away for some quiet family togetherness at Christmas. But if you can’t get out of navigating tricky family dynamics or suffering traditions you don’t entirely fancy honouring, try embracing the imperfect anyway.

Invest time and emotional energy in the little things that can make Christmas Day truly special. One year I took a walk to the beach with my middle child, who often ends up sandwiched between the needs of his older brother and younger sister. He’d literally never seen the streets so empty, so I indulged him with an impromptu dance all the way home right down the middle of the road. 

I might have had one Baileys more than was strictly necessary at that point but it’s a memory he seems to cherish, and not a year has passed since where he hasn’t begged for a rerun of our Christmas street dance routine.

It’s the little things that matter to kids. What they remember is small acts of kindness. Moments of tenderness and togetherness that cut through the rushing that we do so much of throughout the rest of the year.

Christmas, ultimately, isn’t about any of the things we get so het up about. It’s about slowing down to meet yourself. Taking time to let your loved ones know just how much they mean to you. Choosing thoughtful, inexpensive gifts that mean more than money could ever buy. 
Watching Elf together for the hundredth time and still finding it funny. Eating cheese as if it’s an actual meal choice. Hanging the hand-made tree decorations that make you feel a tiny bit more teary every year, and making space for small rituals that bind you closer together as a family and remind you that who you are together and how your day unfolds is the closest thing to perfect that you will ever know.