Kabbo’s mummaking & learning

I’m Kabbo’s mum.

An illustrated portrait of Kabbo’s mum writing in a sketchbook at a creative desk.
Coffee, patience, and always learning.

I am a mother, a maker, a learner, a researcher, a teacher, a builder of little systems, and someone who is slowly learning to understand herself through the same compassion she tries to give her child.

I live in Cornwall, Ontario, Canada. After a long time working in technology, I became a full-time mum. The work changed, but apparently my brain did not get the memo: I still research, troubleshoot, build systems, and ask far too many questions. Now I use those habits to make family tools, write about motherhood and neurodivergence, explore women’s health, and review the books, shows, products, and projects that catch my attention.

I am also a Bangladeshi woman living in Canada, and that shapes how I think about family, language, culture, care, and who gets to explain the world. Some pieces are available in Bangla and in Banglish—the Bangla-English mix I often use—and the site also includes multilingual learning tools and selected French editions. I want someone looking for autism help, a visual support, a Bangla explanation, or simply another mother whose brain and life contain several languages at once to be able to find the useful thing without first knowing the perfect search words.

A lot of what I create begins with my son. Kabbo is the family nickname I use for him on this site.

Kabbo is curious, intense, funny, brilliant, sensitive, and full of questions that can turn an ordinary day into a whole universe. He has made me think deeply about time, language, feelings, routines, fear, joy, learning, and how differently a mind can experience the world.

For a long time, I thought many of my own struggles were just personal flaws. I thought I was too anxious, too sensitive, too scattered, too intense, too easily overwhelmed. I thought I simply had to try harder.

Parenting Kabbo helped me recognize patterns in myself too. It taught me how much clarity, predictability, visual information, and kindness can matter—for children and adults alike. Many things I had treated as personal flaws made more sense when I considered sensory needs, processing, anxiety, and the effort of moving through a world that often assumes every brain works the same way.

Learning how Kabbo thinks has helped me understand how I think.

Learning how to support him has helped me support myself.

Learning how to create structure, visuals, scripts, social stories, routines, and gentle explanations for him has shown me that I also need clarity, predictability, kindness, and room to process. In trying to make the world easier for him to understand, I have started to understand myself more clearly too.

I believe strongly in the power of behavioural therapy when it is done with respect, care, patience, and dignity.

For our family, behavioural support is not about forcing a child to become someone else. It is about looking underneath behaviour and supporting communication, regulation, safety, flexibility, and skills in ways that make sense to the child.

That belief also extends to my own life.

CBT and CPT have also shaped how I understand my own thoughts and anxiety. That work is one reason I try to make every resource gentle, clear, and respectful rather than treating anyone as something to be fixed.

What I read

I am not a literary critic—just an avid reader with a very low tolerance for stories that forget what their own characters are like halfway through. Fantasy is my gravitational centre: give me sprawling worlds, intricate magic systems, lost histories, complicated loyalties, and flawed people trying to survive systems much bigger than themselves. But I rarely stay in one aisle for long. I wander through science fiction, mysteries, horror, history and historical fiction, literary fiction, short stories, light novels, manga, graphic novels, and dramatized audiobooks. I have read in English and Bangla, and in enough beginner-level French to keep a dictionary nearby and feel disproportionately triumphant whenever I finish a book. What holds me is not the label on the shelf, but the feeling that a story has created a world solid enough for me to enter. I love books that make me lose sleep, question something I thought I understood, or notice the machinery beneath language, culture, family, empire, and power. I want characters who behave like actual people—messy and imperfect, but not suddenly unrecognizable because the plot needs them to lose their minds. I notice rushed endings, broken continuity, forced romance, factual mistakes, and audiobook narrators who pronounce familiar words so strangely that they become an entirely new species. But I also notice beauty, cleverness, courage, dry humour, and the rare story that feels alive enough to follow me into my dreams. A good book lets me disappear for a while. A great one sends me back thinking.

I share some of those books—and the thoughts they leave behind—inRandom things.

What I make from that place

This site is where I bring together the things I make from that place.

You will find projects for Kabbo: visual schedules, learning tools, social stories, conversation cards, Bangla and multilingual resources, printable books, activity systems, and little experiments that help him learn and feel safe.

You will also find pieces of me: my writing, my ideas, my reflections, my creative projects, my experiments with design and technology, and the many half-formed thoughts that eventually become something useful.

I like making things.

Sometimes it means a story about the Big Bang that answers Kabbo’s question: “When did time start?”

Sometimes it means a Bangla alphabet mat, a Russian alphabet busybook, a visual schedule, a social story, a tiny app, a book, a poster, or a system that helps one hard moment become a little easier.

I am here trying to figure things out.

One page, one story, one routine, at a time.

This is a space for the things created for Kabbo. For myself.

And maybe for anyone else also trying to make the world a little more understandable, one small tool at a time.