https://www.facebook.com/1006933659176779/

Neurosparkle: Cheer Through a Neurodivergent Lens, Highland, IL (2026)

10/25/2026

✨ Sometimes regulation looks like crying. And that's okay. ✨

Tonight I went to a fireworks festival with my husband.

Fireworks are his thing. He absolutely loves them. And while I don't share quite the same enthusiasm for things that make the sky explode, I love him, and sharing in the things that bring him joy matters to me. 💜

But here's something you should know about my Neurosparkly brain...
Fireworks can be A LOT for my nervous system.
The noise. The unpredictability. The sudden explosions that you can feel in your entire body.

There were these things called Fireballs tonight, and I jumped EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. they went off.

Other people were cheering.
I was wondering why we were all voluntarily subjecting ourselves to this. 😂

And then came one of the shows.
Ten enormous explosives went off simultaneously.
The sound was deafening. We could physically feel the shockwave.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
And then I cried.
Not a cute little tear rolling down my cheek. I cried and struggled to regain my composure.

And you know what?

The crying was part of how I got back to okay.
My nervous system had just experienced something incredibly overwhelming. My body reacted before my thinking brain had much of a say in the matter.
And those tears? They weren't something I needed to fight, hide, or apologize for.

They were part of my response to an experience that had pushed me beyond what I could comfortably process.

Sometimes we think regulation means stopping the tears, controlling the reaction, or looking calm on the outside.

But regulation isn't always about making the reaction stop. Sometimes it's about giving ourselves the space and support to move through it.

I didn't need someone to tell me I was fine.

I didn't need someone to remind me that fireworks aren't dangerous when handled properly.

I didn't need to be embarrassed that other people were having the time of their lives while I was crying.

I needed time. I needed to feel safe. And I needed to let my body respond.

And eventually, I was okay.

Here's what I really want people to understand:
💜 You can genuinely WANT to participate in something and still find parts of it overwhelming.
💜 You can know you're safe and still have a nervous system that responds as though you're not.
💜 You can cry without being emotionally fragile.
💜 You can need a break without wanting to leave.
💜 And you can love someone enough to share their passions without having to experience those passions the same way they do.

Being regulated doesn't mean never becoming dysregulated. It means having the tools, support, and permission to find your way back.

And sometimes, that journey includes tears.
Not because we failed.
Because we're human. And our nervous systems are doing their best to navigate a very loud world.

✨ Neurosparkly friends, have you ever found yourself overwhelmed by something you genuinely wanted to experience? What helped you find your way back to okay?

10/25/2026

💥 Apparently, competitive fireworks are just all-star cheer with explosives. 💥

Tonight I accompanied my husband to a fireworks festival, and while he was appreciating the artistry and technical aspects of pyrotechnics, my Neurosparkly brain was busy connecting dots that probably didn't need connecting. 🧠✨

Y'all. The pyro world and the cheer world are basically the same place.

Allow me to present my findings. 😂

🎭 The themes. We watched fireworks shows themed around Shrek and Dolly Parton. I am approximately 97% certain I'll be seeing both of those themes on a cheer floor this season.

📋 The rules. Apparently, there are lots of them. Some make perfect sense to the people who wrote them. Others don't even make sense to the people competing. Sound familiar?

🏆 The divisions. So. Many. Divisions. At some point, I stopped trying to understand who was competing against whom and just enjoyed the show. Honestly, solid strategy for cheer competitions, too. Okay, there were only two divisions, but they had equally complicated names that meant nothing to people outside the pyro world and probably weren't necessary given that there were only six teams competing total.

🥇 The prizes. You win, you get bragging rights, and you spend the next year reminding everyone that you won. So basically, a championship without the giant ring or jacket. 😂

🍿 The drama. Y'ALL. Even the pyro community has rivalries, opinions about other programs, and a little good-natured shade. Apparently, wherever people are passionate about something, somebody is going to have thoughts about how somebody else does it. 😂

🎆 The choreography. Everybody has access to the same basic building blocks. It's how you combine them, time them, and build those WOW moments that makes a performance memorable. Tell me that's not cheer.

🤯 The terminology. Firework shells have names that sound like someone dumped an entire technical dictionary into a blender. I'm just waiting for someone to announce a triple-spinning, titanium-crackling, color-changing chrysanthemum with a delayed salute finale. Which, honestly, sounds about as complicated as explaining a stunt sequence to someone who doesn't cheer.

🔊 The volume. The louder it is, the more impressive it apparently becomes. Bonus points if you can feel it in your chest and temporarily lose your ability to hear. Cheer parents, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

And after observing all of this, I've concluded that the ONLY thing missing was a voiceover throwing shade at the competition during the performance music. 💀

Although, give the pyro community time. They'll get there.

Moral of the story?

You can take the Neurosparkly cheer mom out of the gym, but apparently you cannot take the cheer competition out of her brain.

✨ Now I need to know: What other completely unrelated activities have you attended and thought, "Wait a minute… this is JUST like cheer!"

10/24/2026

✨ Sometimes regulation looks like this. ✨

Four seconds of fingertip tapping.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing particularly noticeable.

Just my Neurosparkly brain doing what it needs to do.

💜

Today I'm at a fireworks festival with my husband. It's a beautiful day! There's sunshine, wind, excitement, lots of people I don't know, and a whole lot of sensory input.

And I'm having fun!

But here's the thing about being neurodivergent: You can be enjoying every minute of something and still need a break from it.

So I stepped away. Found a quiet spot in the car. Gave myself some time alone. And let my fingers do their thing.

That little movement? It's one of my regulating stims. The repetitive sensory input helps me feel more grounded when my nervous system is processing a lot.

And with cheer competition season right around the corner, I think this is an important conversation.

Think about everything our athletes navigate on competition days:

📣 Loud music and cheering crowds

✨ Bright lights, busy warm-up rooms, and constant movement

💜 Excitement, anticipation, and big emotions

🧠 Changes in routines, unfamiliar environments, and social expectations

That's a LOT for any nervous system!

And sometimes the athletes who look the calmest on the outside are working the hardest to stay regulated on the inside.

So here's your reminder as we head into competition season:
You don't have to wait until you're overwhelmed to regulate.

Take the quiet break. Wear the headphones. Find your fidget. Move your body. Step away from the crowd.

And parents and coaches? You probably have some comp day things you do to regulate too!
Let's normalize those things and make space for them.

Because regulation isn't about making ourselves look calm for everyone else. It's about giving our nervous systems what they need to feel safe, connected, and ready. I also want to note that regulation means meeting the energy needs of the moment. . .that's not always being calm . . .

This post was just about my current need for down regulating. . .will post more on other needs on comp day later. . .

And sometimes that starts with four seconds of fingertip tapping. ✨

💜 Your turn, Neurosparkly friends! Athletes, parents, coaches, and fellow neurodivergent adults: What's one thing that helps YOU regulate when the world gets a little too loud, busy, or overwhelming?

Let's build a competition-season regulation toolbox together! 🧠✨

10/24/2026

This was a fun trend.

ChatGpt: Make my ghost with everything you know about me.

Drop yours in the comments!

10/24/2026

We sincerely appreciate all of the likes and shares over the last few days! Working on some fun new ideas for you all in the coming weeks as showoff and comp season kick off! Thank you for all of the support!

10/23/2026

✨ Stop Expecting YOU Out of Other People — Part 2 ✨

Okay, Neurosparklers. Let's flip the script for a minute. 💜

We recently talked about how important it is for coaches, teammates, and parents to recognize that not everyone thinks, learns, processes, or responds the same way.

But here's a little plot twist...

Sometimes WE are the ones expecting ourselves out of everyone else. 👀

And yes, I'm including myself in that WE.

For some neurodivergent brains, things like fairness, consistency, logic, and doing what we believe is right can feel incredibly important.

When something makes perfect sense in our heads, it can be genuinely difficult to understand why someone else doesn't see it the same way.

If I can see the problem, why can't everyone else?

If this is clearly the fairest solution, why wouldn't we do it?

If I care this much about the team, why doesn't everyone else?

If I can push through something uncomfortable, why can't they?

Sound familiar? 🙋‍♀️

Here's where things get interesting.

Some of us spend so much time advocating for people to understand how our brains work that we forget to extend that same curiosity to brains that work differently from ours.

And that includes other neurodivergent brains!

🧠 In coaching, we might struggle when an athlete doesn't respond to the strategies that would motivate us.

🧠 As athletes, we might become frustrated when teammates don't share our intensity, attention to detail, or sense of urgency.

🧠 As parents, we might have difficulty understanding why another family makes a decision we would never make.

And sometimes, when we're passionate about something, that frustration can come across as judgment, criticism, or an unwillingness to compromise.

Even when that's not our intention.

But here's something I've been reminding myself:

My perspective can be valid without being the only valid perspective.

Someone can approach a situation differently without being wrong.

Someone can have different priorities without caring less.

Someone can need something different without asking for special treatment.

And someone can disagree with me without dismissing me.

That last one? Whew. Sometimes that's a tough one. 😅

✨ And then there's the whole fairness thing...

For some neurodivergent people, perceived injustice can bring up some BIG feelings.

And in athletics, where decisions about playing time, positions, opportunities, corrections, and recognition can feel incredibly personal, those feelings can get complicated quickly.

Imagine an athlete watching a coach give another teammate extra attention.

Their brain might immediately go to:

Why does the coach like them more?

Why don't I get that kind of attention?

What am I doing wrong?

And sometimes? Those concerns are absolutely justified.

Favoritism happens. Unfair treatment happens. Neurodivergent athletes really can be misunderstood, overlooked, or held to inconsistent expectations.

We should never teach athletes to dismiss their instincts or tolerate unfair treatment simply because they might be interpreting something differently.

But there's another possibility worth exploring.

Maybe that teammate is struggling with a skill the athlete has already mastered.

Maybe they're receiving support for something happening outside of practice.

Maybe the coach is responding to a need that isn't visible to everyone else.

Or maybe the coach really does need to examine how they're distributing attention and opportunities.

The point isn't to assume the athlete is wrong. It's to recognize that we might not have all the information yet.

And that's where perspective-taking becomes such an important skill.

Instead of immediately deciding what someone else's actions mean, we can practice asking:

💜 What do I actually know?

💜 What am I assuming?

💜 Could there be another explanation?

💜 Is this a pattern, or am I reacting to one moment?

💜 How can I ask questions or advocate for myself without assuming the worst?

These aren't questions designed to silence our instincts.

They're tools to help us understand situations more fully and respond in ways that actually move us forward.

Because here's the thing...

Having a strong sense of justice doesn't automatically mean our interpretation of every situation is correct.

And being willing to consider another perspective doesn't mean abandoning our own.

Both things can be true.

Neurodiversity isn't just about asking the world to make room for the way our brains work.

It's also about recognizing that every brain brings a different perspective to the table, including the ones we don't naturally understand.

That doesn't mean abandoning our values, ignoring unfairness, or accepting behavior that hurts others.

It means learning to recognize the difference between something being genuinely wrong and something simply being different from how WE would do it.

And that takes practice.

For all of us.

✨ You don't have to agree with someone to be curious about their perspective.

You can advocate for yourself AND ask questions.

You can recognize unfairness AND consider context.

You can hold people accountable AND acknowledge that you might not have the whole picture.

And you can be passionate about what matters to you without expecting everyone else to experience the world exactly as you do.

Because the strongest teams aren't built when everyone thinks alike.

They're built when we learn to respect one another, especially when we don't.

💜 A little Neurosparkle reminder: Understanding goes both ways.

10/22/2026

✨ Stop expecting YOU out of other people. ✨

I came across this quote years ago, and the longer I'm involved in athletics, the more I realize just how much it applies to coaching, teamwork, and neurodiversity.
We have a tendency to measure other people against ourselves. If anyone knows who said it originally, I would love to give credit.

I would have understood that correction the first time.

I wouldn't get so upset over something so small.

I would have pushed through even when it got uncomfortable.

I wouldn't need someone to explain it differently.

But here's the thing...
They're not you. And they're not supposed to be. 💜

On a team, every athlete brings a different brain, a different nervous system, different strengths, and different challenges.

One athlete thrives under pressure. Another shuts down.

One needs a coach to be loud and energetic. Another performs best with calm, specific feedback.

One learns choreography by watching it once. Another needs to break it into pieces, repeat it, and connect the movements to something that makes sense in their brain.

One athlete processes disappointment quietly.
Another wears every emotion right on their face.

And none of those differences automatically tell us how hard someone is trying or how much they care.

🌟 For coaches: Your job isn't to create a team full of athletes who think, learn, and respond exactly like you. It's to figure out how to bring out the best in the athletes standing in front of you.

🌟 For teammates: Someone else's struggle might not make sense to you. Their reaction might seem excessive. Their way of learning might look completely different. But understanding doesn't have to come before kindness.

🌟 For athletes: Your teammates aren't always going to share your drive, your confidence, your fears, or your way of approaching a challenge. Learning to work with those differences is part of becoming a great teammate.

And here's where I think we sometimes get it wrong...
Accepting differences doesn't mean eliminating expectations.

Every athlete can still be expected to show up, put in effort, respect their teammates, and contribute to the team.

But fairness doesn't always mean giving everyone the exact same thing.

Sometimes one athlete needs an extra explanation.

Another needs a moment to regulate.

Another needs a challenge that pushes them beyond what's comfortable.

The goal isn't to lower the bar.

It's to recognize that different athletes may need different paths to reach it.

Because a successful team isn't made up of people who are all alike.

It's made up of people who learn to use their differences to become stronger together.

✨ Stop expecting YOU out of other people. Start getting curious about who THEY are.
That's where better coaching, stronger teams, and a whole lot more Neurosparkle begin to shine. 💜✨

10/17/2026

I got over 80 reactions on one of my posts last week! Thanks everyone for your support! 🎉

10/17/2026

✨ Something bigger is coming for Neurosparkle. 💜

I have a confession.

I want Neurosparkle to grow. Not just in followers, but into an actual COMMUNITY.

A place where parents raising neurodivergent athletes can find support and understanding.

Where coaches can learn how to help Neurosparkly athletes shine on the mat, on the field, and everywhere in between.

Where neurodivergent teens and adults have a voice in conversations that are so often happening ABOUT them instead of WITH them.

But there's something that's been holding me back.

Fear.

If you've followed us for a while, you know my daughter has inspired so much of what I share here.

And as much as I love sharing our experiences, the internet isn't always kind. The thought of opening her up to judgment, criticism, and negativity makes me hesitate.

Because no amount of growth is worth compromising her well-being.

So I've been holding back.

Which is a little ironic, considering how often we say around here:

"Do it scared. Then it gets easier. Then it gets fun."

Well, apparently it's my turn. 😂

I'm a mom. I'm an occupational therapist. I'm a neurodivergent adult myself. And I've spent years seeing how much potential gets overlooked when we expect every brain to work the same way.

I want to help change that.

We're starting with neurodivergence in athletics, because that's where so many of our experiences and conversations have begun.

But my hope is that Neurosparkle becomes something much bigger.

A place for honest conversations, practical strategies, shared experiences, laughter, and a whole lot of sparkle.

And most importantly, a place where neurodivergent people are heard, respected, and celebrated.

Different brains. Same big dreams. ✨

So we're growing. A little scared, a lot excited, and hoping you'll grow with us.

💜 Tell me: Are you here as a parent, coach, athlete, neurodivergent adult, or some combination of those?

And what do you wish more people understood about neurodivergent athletes?

Let's build something that matters. Together.

10/10/2026

✨ Do it scared. Then it gets easier. Then it gets FUN! ✨
It's something we say a LOT in our house.

This week, Rilyn tried something new. And she surprised herself. 💜

Here's the thing about my Neurosparkly girl…

Sometimes her body is capable of doing something long before her brain is ready to believe it.

New skills can be intimidating. Her brain wants to understand ALL the pieces.

What does it feel like?
What if something goes wrong?
What if I can't do it?

And sometimes that uncertainty gets pretty loud.

There's usually some hesitation. A little fear. Sometimes a whole lot of overthinking. (Hello, Neurosparkly brain! 🧠✨)

We've learned that the goal isn't to make the fear disappear before trying something new.

It's to build enough confidence, trust, and safety to take that first step even when the butterflies are still throwing a party.

And we remind her:

💜 Do it scared. You don't have to feel completely confident to begin.

💙 Then it gets easier. Your brain starts collecting evidence that you CAN do hard things.

✨ Then it gets FUN! That thing that once felt terrifying can become something you can't wait to do again.

Of course, there's a difference between encouraging a child through fear and pushing them past their limits.

We don't ignore fear. We listen to it, figure out what it's telling us, and work through it together.

Sometimes that means breaking a skill into smaller pieces.
Sometimes it means watching someone else. Sometimes it means taking a break and trying again another day.
And sometimes it means taking a deep breath and going for it.

This week, she went for it. ❤️

And watching her realize what she was capable of was even better than watching her accomplish the skill itself.

Because the real win wasn't just the new skill.
It was the moment her belief in herself caught up with her ability.

🧠✨ Does your Neurosparkly athlete need a little extra time to get comfortable with something new? What helps them find their courage?

Neurosparkle: Cheer Through a Neurodivergent Lens

10/25/2026

10/25/2026

10/24/2026

10/24/2026

10/24/2026

10/23/2026

10/22/2026

10/17/2026

10/17/2026

10/10/2026

Address

Telephone

Website

Alerts

Contact The Business

Shortcuts

Share

Category

Listing takedown request