About

At the time, it looked like magic — the jaw-dropping, abracadabra, “how did you DO that?” kind of magic. Along with the awe came the accompanying frustration: I could never do that myself. 

It was a nuclear meltdown with one of my kids (of course, any parent of spirited children will know that all meltdowns are nuclear). I was “dealing” with it as best as I could until I needed relief and my husband took over. And just like that, the meltdown was over. Surely, my child just ran out of steam, right? 

Wrong. In the next meltdown, my husband took first shift. Again, like flipping a switch, he calmed her in record time. Just. Like. That.

And you know what the kicker is? I did everything right. As a masters level psychology grad and lifelong mental health enthusiast, I knew everything about emotions, child development, good and bad parenting, etc. 

Added to that, I did everything my husband did: I sat in the rocking chair, holding my child through her tears, waiting patiently (sort of, on the outside anyway, while I silently and mentally thought through all the tasks I needed to get back to after the meltdown was over), holding in my frustration as five minutes passed, ten minutes, 20 minutes, without an end to the crying, trying not to get resentful, kicking myself for being the “bad parent” while images of my husband’s magic went through my head. I shushed, I sang, I said all the right words. 

I hate to admit it, but sometimes I just gave up, and turned on the television, or pulled out a snack as a tear-diversion, or just went back to my tasks, feeling defeated. I desperately wanted to learn how to help these spirited children, to be the type of parent they needed me to be. But I had a lot to learn. 

I did learn a lot — many times by getting it wrong until I got it right. I learned that it’s not about what you do as much as how you do it. Sitting in a rocking chair with my child was ineffectual until I learned to sit with her in a connected way. 

I learned that I could only connect with my child in the measure in which I connected first with myself. 

I learned that the part of me that wanted so much to be a  “Good Parent” could actually get in the way of true connection; if it could hold back for a minute, the magic would happen. 

I learned that when I risked true interpersonal connection, not only would I get the short-term result I wanted (to restore my child to calm, albeit spirited calm), but often the outcome was greater than what I hoped for, even beyond my wildest dreams — like magic. 

I learned by experiencing true connection, with my husband, and other good people around me. I had to experience it before I could share it. 

This is why I am here, on this website and in the online classroom, to help other people, especially children and their caregivers, to experience this connection in order to share it with others. 

I hope you too experience the connection magic, and that it takes you beyond your wildest dreams!