The Quiet Pressure to Maximize Every Moment There is a quiet pressure many parents feel to turn every moment into a learning opportunity. We notice a mistake and want to correct it. We see a skill emerging and want to shape it. We spot a chance for growth and feel responsible for making the most of it. That impulse usually comes from care. From wanting to help our kids succeed. From knowing what they are capable of and wanting to support them in getting there. We love them. W

The Hum: Reconnecting With Your Why I recently read Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes with my book club, and she talks about something she calls “the hum.” That feeling of alignment, of vibrating in tune with the purpose of your life. Not excitement exactly. Not happiness in the shallow sense. More like a quiet knowing that you are where you are supposed to be. I think most helpers know that feeling, even if we do not always have language for it. And I also think many of us exper

One of the hardest parts of parenting is holding two truths at the same time. Your child's feelings are important. And your child's feelings do not get to decide their behavior. This is an AND, not an either-or. For many parents, this is a new idea. We worry that if we do not give feelings full control, we are dismissing them. But in reality, teaching this distinction is one of the most important skills we can give our children. Understanding the Difference Between Feelings a

There is a particular kind of tired that comes from helping work. Not the tired that sleep fixes. Not the tired that comes from being busy. It's the tired that comes from being with people—day after day—when what they are carrying is heavy, unpredictable, or emotionally charged, and you are expected to stay steady inside it. When I talk with prospective behavior technicians, I often name both sides of the work. The people drawn to this role usually value growth. They like hav

Big feelings are a normal part of childhood. Frustration, sadness, anger, excitement, disappointment. For many children, emotions show up quickly and intensely, often before they have the skills to explain what is happening inside. When that happens, behavior becomes communication. Crying, yelling, shutting down, or refusing are not signs that a child is being difficult. They are signs that something feels hard in that moment. Understanding starts with noticing that connectio

Let's talk about the professional development conversation that makes everyone uncomfortable: you're not actually good at everything, and pretending you are isn't helping anyone. I know, I know. You're a certified behavior analyst. You passed your exam. You have a caseload. You're doing the work. But if we're being really honest - and that's what this whole series has been about - there are parts of your clinical skillset that are solid, parts that are adequate, and parts tha

Let's talk about something most of us are terrible at: noticing when things are going well. We're really good at noticing when things go wrong. When the morning is rough, we remember it all day. When our kid has a meltdown, it sticks with us. When we miss a goal or skip a routine, we feel it. But when things go smoothly? When our kid handles frustration better than they used to? When we make it through the week doing the thing we said we'd do? We barely notice. It just become

There's a moment that happens to every behavior analyst, usually around 2 AM when you can't sleep: you realize the intervention you've been implementing with complete fidelity for the past month isn't working. The data doesn't lie, and what it's telling you is that despite your best efforts, you're not helping this kid. And then comes the spiral: Did I choose the wrong procedure? Is my functional assessment wrong? Am I missing something obvious? Should I have seen this coming

Let's talk about the gap between knowing what you want to do and actually doing it consistently. You know you want to read with your kids more. You know bedtime would go smoother with a consistent routine. You know family dinner would be nice if you could pull it off regularly. But knowing what you want and making it happen are two very different things. This is where small consistent routines come in. Not the color-coded, requires-military-precision kind of routines. The rea

I've sat through hundreds of intake meetings. I've conducted them, I've supervised them, I've reviewed recordings of them. And here's what I can tell you: most of us are doing them wrong. Not catastrophically wrong. Just... incompletely wrong. We're asking the questions we're supposed to ask, filling out the forms we're supposed to fill out, and somehow still walking away without the information we actually need. You know what I'm talking about. You get three sessions in and

Let me guess: you've set family goals before. Maybe you wanted to eat dinner together more often, or get the kids to bed on time, or have smoother screen time transitions, or just feel more connected as a family. And let me guess again: those goals probably lasted a few weeks, maybe a month if you were really motivated, before they quietly faded into the chaos of regular life. It's not your fault. And it's not because your family is uniquely difficult or you're not trying ha

Let's be honest about something most ABA professionals won't say out loud: sometimes you realize you've been winging it. Not in a reckless way, but in that "I've done this a thousand times so I'm just going to trust my gut" kind of way. And then one day, you're sitting with data that doesn't make sense, or a parent asks you a question you should know the answer to, and you think... wait, when did I stop being intentional about this? If that hits close to home, you're not alon

Let's start with something that might feel a bit uncomfortable: looking back at last year without immediately jumping to what you should have done differently. I know, I know. When most of us think about the past year, we default to the lowlight reel. The times we lost our temper. The goals we didn't hit. The routines that fell apart by March. The moments we felt like we were failing at this whole parenting thing. But what if we flipped the script? What if, instead of catalog

This is it. The end of 2025. And if you've made it through this year—through the sessions and the paperwork and the hard conversations and the moments of doubt and the small victories and everything in between—you've earned a moment to stop. Not to plan. Not to prepare. Not to get ahead. Just to stop. So here's what I want to say to you as we close out this year: you have permission to pause for ABA professionals and for yourself as a human being. What Permission to Pause for

Rethinking New Year's Resolutions Here's what happens every January: everyone sets big ambitious goals. Lose weight. Exercise daily. Be more patient. Achieve more. Transform completely. And for families with neurodivergent children , those resolutions often include things like: get my child to do X, fix Y behavior, master Z skill. Then by February, you're behind on the goals. Feeling like you've failed. Beating yourself up for not doing enough. Setting intentions for neurodi

Let's be honest: New Year's resolutions are kind of a setup. We set these big, ambitious goals in January when we're feeling motivated and rested. Then life happens. Work gets busy. Motivation fades. And by February, we're back to our old patterns, feeling like we failed at something we never had a realistic shot at succeeding with in the first place. Sound familiar? Here's the thing: as ABA professionals, we know better. We know how behavior change actually works. We know ab

The Social Performance Trap Let's talk about what happens at most holiday gatherings. Your child walks in and immediately gets swarmed. "Give grandma a hug!" "Say thank you for the present!" "Go play with your cousins!" "Tell everyone about school!" "Why are you being so quiet?" And when your child doesn't respond the way adults expect—when they don't make eye contact, or they walk away, or they need space—suddenly you're getting looks. Comments about manners. Suggestions abo

I attended Dr. Shane Spiker's webinar recently where he said something that stopped me in my tracks. He said: "Self-care isn't me first, it's me too." I hadn't heard it phrased that way before, and it landed differently—cleaner, truer, and far more compassionate than the standard "take time for yourself" advice that so often feels impossible. For years, I've coached parents on supporting their children, and almost always, part of that work includes encouraging parents to supp

The Sensory Reality of December Nobody talks about this part. Everyone focuses on magic and joy. But for families with sensory-sensitive kids, the holidays are an endurance test. Think about what December actually involves: Visual:  Flashing lights everywhere. Bright colors. Screens playing holiday content on loop. New decorations change familiar spaces. Auditory:  Holiday music constantly. Crowds. Loud gatherings. Excited voices. Tactile:  Itchy sweaters. Tags on new gifts.

As I look back on 2025, the themes that keep rising to the surface—louder and clearer than anything else—are intentionality, community, and learning to let go. These aren't the polished, LinkedIn-ready reflections. This is the real version. The messy, honest, "I'm still figuring this out" version. And I think that's what makes these reflections on 2025 for ABA professionals worth sharing. Because if this year taught me anything, it's that the work of building a sustainable pr