I've lived through parenting and caregiving from many angles. I grew up in a blended family where I often helped care for younger kids. I was raised by a single mother who leaned on a circle of other single moms for survival. And for the past seven years, I've been co-parenting a neurodivergent child with high needs who we saw through some very tough years and is in high school. Parenting means trying to get through turbulence with grace and compassion, and I've learned that the right support and community can transform the chaos into something bearable--- and even make it possible for you to more consistently connect with joy! I can help you find steadiness as you move through the ups and downs of parenting and help you focus on the unique joys your relationship with your child (including adult children) brings to your life.

I’ve been in recovery for over 10 years, and one of the biggest parts of my story is being a parent. I have three kids, and let me be honest—parenting is hard. It’s beautiful and full of love, but it can also be exhausting and overwhelming. One thing I’ve learned along the way is that taking care of myself is just as important as taking care of my kids. When I make my recovery and my well-being a priority, I’m able to show up for them with more patience, presence, and love. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being real, and doing the best we can one day at a time. I want to share my experience because I know how much it helps to hear from others who are walking a similar path. You’re not alone in the challenges, and you’re not alone in the victories either.

When my daughter was 11, she was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. It completely knocked the wind out of me. No one in my family had diabetes, and I had no idea how to manage it. On top of that, she’s also on the autism spectrum and has ADHD. The learning curve was steep, and I often felt like my entire life revolved around her care. I loved her deeply, but I struggled to find me in the process. Over time, I had to learn how to provide love and stability for her while also honoring my own well-being. It meant choosing a different path—one that others didn’t always understand. It’s been lonely at times, but it’s also made me stronger and more compassionate. I want to be here for other parents who feel the weight of it all—to remind you that you’re not alone, and it’s possible to support your child while still taking care of yourself.

My zany family of 4 has unique challenges that we navigate together with love, compassion and a lot of laughter. I have two daughter’s with their own learning challenges, and identity questions. My husband and I try to guide them from our different life perspectives. We are an inter faith, Inter racial, and mixed orientation couple. We feel that open communication as a family has been our greatest strength. As a family we have moved overseas and enjoy traveling together. If you need a person to help you navigate moving with your family, or strengthening your bonds through adversity, I would love to chat!

I grew up surrounded by emotional chaos—parents struggling with alcoholism and depression, and a childhood full of absence, confusion, and pain. I witnessed and experienced physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, and for a long time I believed that love had to hurt. Those early wounds followed me into adulthood, shaping my relationships, my decisions, and the way I saw myself. I experienced miscarriage, divorce, and unhealthy romantic partnerships that echoed the abandonment I felt as a child. For years, I felt unlovable, constantly questioning my worth. But eventually, I chose healing. Through therapy, education, holistic work, and deep personal reflection, I began to break the cycle. I’ve now built a life rooted in healthy love, both for my children and for myself. My journey wasn’t easy, but it showed me that healing is possible, even when life is still messy. If you're feeling stuck in old patterns or questioning your worth, I want to walk beside you as you begin to reclaim your story.

Becoming a parent for the first time changed me in ways I never expected. It cracked me open—emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I felt love so big it scared me. I also felt grief, fear, rage, and loneliness that no one warned me about. The world expects new parents to feel nothing but joy, but the truth is far more layered—especially if you carry trauma, mental health challenges, or didn’t grow up feeling safe or fully loved yourself. When I had my first living child, I was still healing from the devastating loss of my firstborn. That made parenthood even more emotional and sacred—but also incredibly hard. I was navigating grief while changing diapers. Trying to reparent myself while learning how to raise someone else. All while sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, and unsure if I was doing it "right." I’ve learned that parenting isn’t just about raising a child—it’s about becoming someone new. Shedding old identities. Confronting triggers. Stretching your heart beyond what you thought possible. And sometimes, it’s about quietly surviving the day and trying again tomorrow. If you’re in the thick of it—tired, unsure, deeply in love but also overwhelmed—I see you. You're not alone.

My son was so depressed for a year and a half, that he missed a large part of the school year. At first, I didn’t understand or recognize it as depression, and I was pushing him to go to school very hard, which led to him getting even more frustrated with himself. After talking to a family coach, we were able to diagnose the real issue, and ask my son open ended questions to try and understand the reasons behind his depression. Then when I took the pressure off and worked on helping him feel good about himself, the depression was able to lift and he made all A’s at school the next year, and made several friends he could hang out with after school as well.

I was working on first a Masters, and then a Doctorate in mathematics when my first two daughters were born. Then when I got my first full time job, I gave birth to my son shortly afterwards. I only took a week to recover from labor with each of my daughters so that I didn’t get behind on my grad school classes. I also wasn’t willing to sacrifice my ability to breastfeed my little ones, so I either met up with my husband in between classes to feed my babies, or I learned to pump while at work. I understand the exhaustion that comes with having newborns and still working hard every day. Because of sleepless nights getting up to take care of a crying child, I fell asleep in class a few times, but I learned to lean on other people to help support me through this difficult time. I also learned a lot of tricks for working with a baby in my arms or in a seat nearby. My kids are all older now, my youngest is 5 years old, but I have a thriving career.

When I first became a mom, I often felt like I was failing my kids. I was constantly frustrated with myself and overwhelmed by the chaos around me. A lot of that frustration came from old wounds I carried from my own childhood — patterns of behavior and emotional pain that I didn't even realize were still affecting me. Over the past several years, I’ve been on a deep healing journey. I have worked through a lot of depression and anxiety, and started to truly unlearn the patterns I grew up with. I also navigated struggles with my own sexual addiction, which impacted my marriage and left my husband feeling used and disconnected. Through all of this, I have learned how to listen to my kids with empathy, support them through their struggles, and parent from a place of understanding rather than reaction. I know how hard it can feel when you're trying to heal yourself and show up differently for your family at the same time. I’d love to walk alongside you as you navigate the hard, beautiful work of healing while parenting.

I’ve lived a full life—with all the ups, downs, sharp turns, and potholes that come with it. I'm a mother of two sons of retirement age: the younger, I'm total estranged from, and it's the same as losing a child; the elder, a practicing alcoholic, is tricky. As a former marriage and family therapist, a caregiver for my dad during his final years, and someone who has fought my own battles with addiction and recovery, I deeply understand being in hard places. My struggles were relationship acceptance and guilt and shame. I was an inadequate parent and it brought great pain to us all. But I finally sought help. I no longer accept the unrealistic perfect mother model. Once I understood my boundaries, our relationship improved. I stopped listening to abusive complaints. Now we can tell when things are "going south" and we can gracefully withdraw from conflict. Acceptance and boundaries are game changers. They can be for you, too. Let me support and help guide you in this process.

I’ll help you see what’s beneath the behaviors, the sensory needs, communication styles, and emotional cues that often get misread. So many parents wonder if they missed something or did something wrong. I’ll help you release that guilt and focus on what’s right now, connection and progress. How? Becasue I did these things with my own three children. I have been where you are.

As a mom of three — including a non-binary child — and part of a blended, multicultural family, I understand what it means to hold space for everyone’s truth. I can help you build that same safety in your home

When my middle child came out as pansexual and non-binary, I realized my role wasn’t to have the perfect answers but to offer the safest possible space. Our home became the place where my children’s friends could quietly come out, test pronouns, or simply exist without fear of judgment. Over the years, I learned that compassion isn’t about having a script — it’s about listening, believing, and loving first. Being that safe place for young people who didn’t have one has been one of the greatest honors of my life.

I know firsthand how messy and overwhelming it can feel to juggle parenting while living with bipolar and ADHD. I’ve been through the highs, the crashes, and the constant push-pull of trying to keep life together for both myself and my kids. Because I’ve walked that path, I don’t come with judgment or unrealistic advice—I come with honesty, empathy, and lived experience. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re failing, and I also know how important it is to have someone to talk to who gets it. If you’re struggling, I’m someone who can meet you in the chaos, hold space for the real stuff, and remind you that you’re not alone in it.

I’m raising a 17-year-old daughter with Autism and three 11-year-old boys, one of which who has ADHD and mood disorder and the other two are identical twins, all while juggling bipolar disorder and ADHD. It’s not just parenting — it’s crisis management, emotional translation, and figuring out how to keep everyone’s needs in play without burning out myself. It's been a lot of trial and error but i've improved family communication a little more everyday. I certainly don't have all the answers but i have a few that work for us. maybe some of them will work for you and yours also.

After I had my baby, I felt like I was supposed to be glowing, full of love, and endlessly grateful. But the truth? I felt like I was falling apart. I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I cried when no one was looking. I felt anxious, overwhelmed, and so ashamed for not feeling what I thought I was “supposed” to feel. I loved my baby. I didn’t love the way I felt inside. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Some days, I didn’t even recognize the person staring back in the mirror. The guilt, the fear, the pressure to hold it all together. I kept pretending I was fine, while quietly unraveling. Eventually, I cracked. And that’s when the healing started, not by being “strong” but by being honest. I started talking to other moms who had been through it. They didn’t judge me. They just nodded, held space, and let me cry. And that was everything. Postpartum is hard. Being a mother is beautiful, yes, but it can also be lonely, messy, and heartbreaking. And if you’re in that place right now, I want you to know you’re not broken. You’re not a bad mom. You’re just human and you deserve support.

For the ones carrying it all but barely holding on. When your days are packed from start to finish, a 3pm Starbucks run still doesn’t cut it, and four hours of sleep feels like your new normal—it’s time to find the culprit. Do you need some YOU time? If you are a parent who's feeling stretched too thin and stuck on autopilot, let’s talk. Maybe you just need to vent about the pressure, hear that your exhaustion isn’t your fault, or finally talk through the weight you’ve been carrying. Maybe you want practical ways to hit reset, carve out time for yourself, or set boundaries that protect your energy without guilt. However you show up, this space is about you—your needs, your voice, and your chance to stop running on empty.

For the parents doing double-duty and still wondering if it’s enough. When you’re raising kids on your own, it’s easy to feel like there needs to be more—more time, more opportunities, more money for the extras that other families seem to have. You pour yourself into providing the best you can, but carrying the weight of two people can make even your best feel like it falls short. Do you feel like no matter what you do, it never measures up? If you’re a solo parent exhausted from giving it all and still questioning if you’re failing, let’s talk. Maybe you just need space to admit the guilt and pressure you’ve been holding. Maybe you want to release the shame of not having a partner, or talk about the fear that you’ll never feel “whole” enough for love again. However you show up, I get it—I’ve had those same doubts as a solo mom, and we can work through them together.

Do you ever wish your sibling relationship looked like the ones you see on TV—supportive, loyal, and close—but you’ve accepted it may never be that way? If you’re tired of the hurt and the hope colliding, let’s talk. Maybe you just need space to grieve what the relationship isn’t, or maybe you want to explore ways to protect your peace when family dynamics get messy. I get it—it’s painful to realize you can’t change someone else, but you can change how much control they have over your well-being. For many, siblings aren’t the safe place they hoped for. Maybe you’re just never on the same page, or maybe their behavior makes closeness feel out of reach. Longing for connection that isn’t there is exhausting, and what makes it worse is when family blames you for not trying harder to “fix” things. I’ve lived through sibling disconnect myself, and I know how deep it cuts. That’s why I hold space for these conversations—to remind you that you don’t have to carry that hurt alone.

Raising teens and tweens has been one of the most rewarding yet challenging experiences of my life. I’ve watched my kids grow through periods of emotional turbulence, feeling the weight of social pressures, schoolwork, sports, and the constant pull of their social media worlds. As they’ve transitioned into their twenties and teen years, I’ve learned firsthand how to balance the emotional sensitivity that comes with adolescence, their growing independence, and the increasingly demanding schedules they face. In my experience, navigating this stage of parenting isn’t just about guiding them through external challenges, but about fostering a safe environment where they can express themselves without fear of judgment. It also means learning to support their emotional needs while still giving them the space to grow into their own person. Social media, peer pressure, and the stress of academic and extracurricular expectations can be overwhelming for both them and you as a parent. I’ve had to find ways to help my kids process these pressures while also setting healthy boundaries that support their mental and emotional well-being. If you’re finding it difficult to manage the emotional ups and downs, the busyness, and the social media pressures that come with raising teens and tweens, I’d love to offer my support. Whether it’s about making your home a safe space for them and their friends to land or preparing for the college search & empty-nest years, I can help you find strategies to create a balanced and supportive family environment.