One tired parent to another

Hi, I'm Nora Hayes

I'm a mom of two and a former preschool aide. Sensory play started as survival at my house, then became the thing I share. This page is the honest version of who's behind the printables, what I know, and the lines I won't cross.

Nora at her kitchen table with Eli and June, all three with their hands in a bin of dyed rainbow rice in warm afternoon light

How a rice bin saved my afternoons

Before kids I spent three years as a preschool aide. Then Eli arrived, autistic and a sensory-seeker, which is a calm way of saying he needs to move, squeeze, and dig his hands into something before the world stops feeling too loud. One desperate afternoon I dumped a bag of rice into a storage bin with a few measuring cups. He poured, scooped, buried them, dug them out. Ten quiet minutes. That counted, and I went looking for more.

Ten quiet minutes.
A toddler's hands digging into a worn storage bin of dyed rainbow rice, measuring cups half-buried, warm afternoon light

The one thing I keep relearning

Then June came along, and the play kept going, just gentler and taste-safe for a toddler who put everything in her mouth. Hundreds of setups later, the same lesson keeps landing: the best activity is the one your kid will actually do, not the prettiest one on Pinterest. Plenty flopped. The ones that didn't are what I share.

Plenty flopped.
June in her high chair pressing her hands into taste-safe yogurt paint, a happy mess on the tray, soft kitchen light

The kitchen-table group

Six years ago I started a monthly meet-up with a few local parents raising neuro-atypical kids. We trade what actually works: the calm-down trick that headed off a tantrum, the bin that bought a quiet dinner, the chart that finally stuck. About seven of us still show up. This blog is that table, opened up for the parents who don't have a local one to sit at.

About seven of us still show up.
A worn kitchen table covered with coffee mugs, open notebooks, two homemade glitter calm-down bottles and a laminated feelings chart — the parents just stepped away

Why you can trust me, and where I stop

Special-needs parenting is too high-stakes for guesswork or fake credentials. So here's exactly what I am, what I'm not, and how every idea on this site earns its spot.

  • Experience

    What I can actually give you

    • Hundreds of sensory setups run with my own two kids and the group. I keep what works and ditch the rest.
    • Everything I share, I tried at my house first. If it flopped here, I tell you so.
    • Plain, correct words used the way a parent uses them: sensory diet, heavy work, taste-safe, first-then, calm-down corner.
  • The honest line

    What I'm not

    • I'm a mom and a former preschool aide. I'm not an OT, an SLP, a BCBA, or a doctor, and I won't pretend to be.
    • Nothing here treats, cures, fixes, or diagnoses anything. It buys you a calmer afternoon, and that counts.
    • For anything clinical, your child's professional knows your kid. I'll always point you to them.
  • Transparency

    How the content gets made

    • Tested at home, then with the group. We keep what works and toss the pretty-but-useless.
    • When a strategy came from Eli's OT, I say so. I lean on her for the why; I share the what helped us.
    • Identity-first, affirming language by default ("autistic child"), and I follow each family's own preference.

Free printables, coming soon

Want these as printables?

I am slowly turning activities like these into free print-and-go pages. Tell me where to send them and you will get an email the day each one is ready.

One email when there's something worth printing. Unsubscribe anytime.

Nora at her kitchen table sketching out printable play ideas

Come say hi

Got a setup that saved your evening, or a question about one of mine? I read everything, even if it takes me a few sleepy days to reply.

Most days you'll catch me pinning new setups on Pinterest, and the printables I keep mentioning live in my Etsy shop.