Some stories hit you right in the chest, and this is one of them!
Welcome to the second article of the Meet the Maker series. If you're new here, I'm Andrea, the founder of Mini Marketa and this is a series where we interview the amazing people in our community who create the things the toys our kids reach for, the ones they rely on, the tools they carry in their pockets, the things that help them feel okay when the world gets a bit loud.
As a serial side-hustler, nothing gets me more fired up than hearing how someone turned the thing they're passionate about into the thing that pays their bills (especially when they're a kid/mum duo!).
Jo Seymon runs Kaiko Fidgets right out Melbourne. Designed with her son Kai, they make sensory tools, fidgets designed for neurodivergent kids and adults. But…these aren't your typical bright, plasticky fidget spinners. They're solid, industrial and almost jewellery-like. They look like something you'd see on a desk at a design studio, not in a classroom pencil case.
What inspired someone to design a fidget tool to look like this? I had to find out.
So I messaged Jo. What came back wasn't a few quick answers. It was one of the most raw, generous and personal responses I've ever received. The origin story behind these tools goes somewhere I wasn't expecting, and I think you need to hear it from Jo herself.
I'll let her tell you. Here's our chat.
What's the story behind Kaiko Fidgets? What inspired you to start creating sensory tools?
Kaiko didn't begin as a business idea. It began as a breaking point.
In 2017, Kai was 11 and being teased at school for using brightly coloured, traditional fidget toys. He's autistic and dyslexic, and like many neurodivergent kids, he needed something in his hands to regulate and focus. The tools helped his nervous system, but socially, they made him stand out.
There was an incident at school where teasing escalated and a classmate smeared wasabi in his eyes. It was one of those moments that stops you in your tracks as a parent. I remember the mix of fury and heartbreak in my chest. No child should feel unsafe for trying to regulate.
Instead of deciding he'd stop using tools, Kai decided he'd redesign them.
In our craft room, using bike chain parts, he built his first prototype. Something solid, discreet and industrial-looking. It didn't scream "sensory toy." And something shifted almost immediately. The same peers who had teased him started asking where they could get one.
As an occupational therapist, and as someone who was later diagnosed AuDHD myself, I could see what was happening clearly. The need for regulation wasn't the issue. The design was. There was a huge gap between what people needed and what was available.
Kaiko grew from that lived experience. From a desire to create tools that were discreet, durable and genuinely supportive. Not gimmicky, not clinical, and not something that would single someone out.
What started as one boy trying to get through school became a family business built around dignity and thoughtful design.
Your fidgets are designed to be discreet. Can you tell us more about your design process?
Discreet isn't a style choice for us. It's about dignity.
When a tool is too bright, too toy-like or too obviously "sensory," it can unintentionally single someone out. Regulation shouldn't come at the cost of social safety.
So we design tools that look considered. Solid. Sometimes even a little industrial. Pieces you could have on your desk at work or in a classroom without drawing attention.
Sensory needs don't disappear when you become an adult, but the type of tool often needs to change. Teens and adults want support that feels age-appropriate and discreet enough to use in a workplace, university lecture, or on public transport without commentary. That's very much our lane.
Our innovation process always starts with a need. Someone shares a problem, and we move into problem-solving mode. We don't create products for the sake of it. We listen.
Because we're a neurodivergent family, and because I have an OT background, regulation isn't theoretical for us. We consider feel, weight, texture, resistance, sound and durability. We test, tweak, change materials and refine details. A millimetre can change the experience. A finish can determine whether someone feels comfortable using a tool in public.
For us, discreet design isn't about making something smaller. It's about being unapologetically obsessed with function, quality, and matching tools to real needs.
What's your most popular product, and what do you think resonates about it?
It's always hard to pick a favourite, but our Works Fidget Kit is hands down our bestseller.
It includes seven different sensory tools, and that matters because needs don't stay static. What feels regulating in the morning might not work in the afternoon. The Works Kit offers options, from softer, soothing input through to spikier "safe ouch" and jointed movement. Options equal autonomy.
For people still figuring out what their nervous system needs, that flexibility is powerful.
I'm also currently completely obsessed with our newer ranges. Our MagStaks, which are deeply satisfying and grounding. Our Pick'Ems, which support adults seeking safer alternatives to picking behaviours. Our Spikey ring for discreet "safe ouch" input. And our Hand Rollers, which offer beautifully rhythmic, fluid movement.
But if someone is starting out and unsure what they need, the Works Kit is often the most supportive place to begin.
Sensory play and neurodivergent-friendly tools are getting more recognition now. What does that shift mean to you?
It's layered.
Awareness can bring acceptance, and that's a good thing. The more people understand regulation and sensory needs, the less shame there is around using support tools.
At the same time, when something becomes more visible, it can end up under a spotlight. Sometimes that leads to thoughtful innovation. Other times it leads to trends and gimmicky products that don't meet real needs.
During COVID, we saw a significant increase in anxiety and big feelings, in both kids and adults. It highlighted how many people benefit from tangible regulation supports.
Inclusion matters. Not just sensory inclusion, but recognising that humans are different across neurotype, gender, culture and ability. There isn't one "normal."
At Kaiko, we try not to focus on trends. We focus on meeting real needs. If awareness means more people feel safe seeking support, that's a positive shift, but thoughtful design and integrity still matter.
What's one thing you wish more parents and teachers knew about sensory tools?
I wish more people understood the "why" behind sensory tools.
It's not about the object. It's about what the brain is trying to do.
When a child is chewing on their sleeve, rocking in their chair, pen-clicking or tapping, their brain isn't being difficult. It's being clever. Movement and sensory input can help bring the frontal lobe online and quieten that fight-or-flight response, supporting focus and emotional regulation.
In the absence of the right support, the brain will still seek input. We just might not like how it looks.
Matching the tool to the need matters. Having the wrong tool can be worse than having no tool at all. If it doesn't provide the right input, it can increase frustration rather than reduce it.
Sometimes support looks like chewing gum or crunchy food. Sometimes it's movement. Sometimes it's a discreet fidget that can sit in a pocket or on a desk without drawing attention.
The goal isn't to eliminate the behaviour. It's to understand what's driving it, and offer a safer, more supportive alternative.
Anything else you'd like to share?
There's a quote I come back to often: "If I'm too much, go find less."
So many neurodivergent people grow up feeling like they're too much and not enough at the same time. That quote reminds me that how we show up in the world might not look like the next person, and that's okay.
We're not broken.
Our brains are incredibly clever. When they seek movement, pressure or repetition, they're regulating. The important thing isn't to stop the need. It's to understand it and find safer, supportive ways to meet it.
If more people shifted from "Why are you doing that?" to "What is your nervous system asking for?" I think we'd see a lot more compassion, and a lot less shame.
Jo's story really touched me and is exactly why I wanted to start this series. There are people out there building things that genuinely help kids, and most of us wouldn't hear the backstory without a bit of digging.
You can find and support Kaiko Fidgets at kaikofidgets.com, on Instagram and Facebook.
If you know a toy maker we should feature next, message us on Instagram or email hello@minimarketa.com and sign up to our newsletter if you'd like to receive the next article in your inbox.
