You sit at the dinner table while your child screams about the wrong color plate, and your heart rate stays steady. When you say "I understand you're upset, and you still need to use this plate," you actually mean it instead of either giving in or losing your temper.
When you walk into the IEP meeting, your voice doesn't shake when you explain why your child needs a therapeutic day school. You present the evaluation results, you push back on the suggestion to "try one more year" in general ed, and you leave knowing you said what needed to be said.
Your ten-year-old throws a book during homework, and you can catch your own activation before you escalate. You take three breaths, your shoulders drop, and you say "We're done with homework for tonight" in a voice that's firm but not angry.
You're sitting across from the educational consultant discussing therapeutic boarding schools, and you can stay emotionally connected to your child while also acknowledging that your home isn't safe anymore. You can hold both truths - you love your child and you cannot keep doing this.
On Saturday morning, you tell your spouse "I'm going to Target alone for two hours" without the crushing guilt. When you come home, you can actually be present instead of already running on empty.
You sit at the dinner table while your child screams about the wrong color plate, and your heart rate stays steady. When you say "I understand you're upset, and you still need to use this plate," you actually mean it instead of either giving in or losing your temper.
When you walk into the IEP meeting, your voice doesn't shake when you explain why your child needs a therapeutic day school. You present the evaluation results, you push back on the suggestion to "try one more year" in general ed, and you leave knowing you said what needed to be said.
Your ten-year-old throws a book during homework, and you can catch your own activation before you escalate. You take three breaths, your shoulders drop, and you say "We're done with homework for tonight" in a voice that's firm but not angry.
You're sitting across from the educational consultant discussing therapeutic boarding schools, and you can stay emotionally connected to your child while also acknowledging that your home isn't safe anymore. You can hold both truths - you love your child and you cannot keep doing this.
On Saturday morning, you tell your spouse "I'm going to Target alone for two hours" without the crushing guilt. When you come home, you can actually be present instead of already running on empty.