A young girl, about 4 years old, is sitting by herself on a fallen log. Her body faces us but her head is turned to her right. A forest of trees lay behind her. The grass is green but there are no leaves on the trees. She appears to be alone.

Children seek a place where distress is heard, pain is seen, vulnerability is safe, and worth does not depend on performance.

Parents do, too.
This is that place.

As a parent, I have, multiple times, found myself in over my head. Some of those times were short-lived. Others lasted for years. Some were easily overcome. Some nearly broke me. It would be fair to say I tend to learn my lessons the hard way, and I usually learn them slowly. Here are five things I have learned about being in over my head:

  1. It doesn’t matter if the depth is 10 feet or 10,000 feet; either is enough to drown us.

  2. When we are drowning, we will reach out to anyone offering a rope.

  3. Ropes may keep us from drowning but they don’t help us swim.

  4. We can’t parent from the shallows when our kids are in the deeps.

  5. When our kids are in the deeps, they can’t swim to us. We must swim to them.

There are thousands of people offering ropes and promising guaranteed results that avoid swimming the deeps. Most of the parents that find their way to me have tried those options only to find themselves in deeper water than ever. I refuse to give false guarantees, false hope, and a false sense of safety. We are all human and the world is full of unknowns. I cannot control the future, or you, or your kids; no one can. I believe in what I do, but I cannot guarantee what the future will bring. What I will guarantee is the authenticity of my own vulnerability and unconditional regard for your worth as a person. The rest is a journey we navigate together. You must decide for yourself whether what I have to offer helps you swim the deeps.

A child’s biggest stress is facing separation from their safe caregivers. Children will become whatever they must be to keep their caregivers close, even at the cost of losing themselves.


Those children become us.

I’m not an ivory tower academic who is all theory and no experience. Nor am I some random noob who decided to hang up a shingle and call myself a coach. I am an engineer at heart who loves learning how things work and absolutely will provide you with the insights of the best minds in science. I am also a regular dad who has done the hard work of personal transformation and healing my own wounds. I strive to meet each parent exactly where they are with acceptance, curiosity, and free of judgment. I know the person I used to be and how long it took me to change and grow into the kind of dad I am now. I have nothing but compassion and empathy for those making the same journey. I also know how to recognize and call out (gently) the BS that we engage in to avoid the truths that are not comfortable to hear.

When things go awry

Wouldn’t it be lovely if our kids could tell us what is wrong and what they need? I imagine it would sound something like this…

Hello Mother and Father. You may have noticed that I haven’t been usual, cheery self lately. I’ve been hard to wake for school, slow to get ready, irritable and short-fused during breakfast, and begging to stay home on the way to school. After school, I seem fine when you pick me up then have a huge melt down in the car on the way home.

What you don’t know is that I am being bullied by a group of kids in my class. They call me names, make fun of my hair, and sometimes they knock me down and laugh. I do the best I can to hold it together during the school day so they don’t see me cry. By the time you pick me up I feel like I’m about to explode and I can’t hold it in any longer. I have nightmares and wake up a lot at night and can’t get back to sleep because I’m so worried about school. That’s why it is so hard to wake me up in the morning. I really need someone to protect me at school.

Oh, by the way, in about a month you are going to get a call from my teacher about never finishing my school work and causing disruptions in class. I have undiagnosed learning and sensory processing disorders. I’ve taken the liberty of scheduling appointments with an SLP and an OT to do some evaluations. You’ll probably want to talk to the school about getting me an IEP so teachers know to make accommodations for my disabilities.

This is, of course, pure fiction. Most of the time, our kids are just as much in the dark as we are. However, even when not using words, our kids are telling us with their behaviors that something is wrong and leaving us clues that point us towards the problem. If we know how to recognize those clues and see beneath the surface, we can bring those unmet needs to light and work to meet them. If we misread the cues, we end up intervening in ways that do nothing to make the problem better, and may make it much worse.

A little girl sits on her bed with two stuffed animals needing repair and several spools of thread. She is looking at the spool held in her hands but appears to be uncertain what to do next. Her father is leaning on the doorway, watching her.
A girl and her father work together to repair a stuffed animal. The girl is doing the work as her father guides her.

Sometimes, reading those clues to identify the root problems and knowing what to do in response requires knowledge and insight beyond that of the typical parent. Because I approach behavior through the lenses of attachment, survival instincts, trauma, and healthy child development, I can nearly always help parents connect dots to explain what is happening to their child in a way that no one has done for them before. Simply being able to see what is happening and put a name to it can help reduce frustration, restore patience and compassion, and renew hope.

A couple sit on a park bench. The woman, legs crossed, is turned away from the man and looking out into the park. She appears frustrated. The man is turned slightly way and leaning forward with his hands covering his eyes. He appears discouraged.

What Now?

People that get this far generally fall into one of three groups. Which one fits you?

  1. “I’ve heard enough to schedule an initial consultation.”
    You are in luck because I give a ridiculously generous 90-minute initial consultation absolutely free. Just click the floating button in the bottom right corner to see my availability and immediately schedule your consultation.

  2. “I’m interested, but I don’t know if I can afford you and I don’t want to waste your time if I’m not going to sign up.”
    I get it. Personally, I hate it when websites don’t show pricing, so I clearly disclose all my fees on the Get Started page. If you are in a financial situation that you know precludes the ability to pay for my services, I encourage you to schedule an initial consultation anyway.

  3. “I’m not convinced. I want to know more about you and what you do.”
    Fair enough. Head on over to the About Me page where I, surprise, tell you about me. You can also explore the navigation menus at the top right of the page.

Whatever path you take, I look forward to hearing from you soon.