6 week starter class for men (Frome)

6 week starter class for men (Frome)

Wednesdays 7-9pm from October 18th (no class during half term 1st Nov) £200 (£155 for partners of those who have previously attended) including manual, booklets and the whole course online (in video segments from our amazing Founder Patty Wipfler, which you get to keep for 6 months and is a great way to consolidate your learning and share with your partner/relatives). Join me to connect with other dads/carers like you, work on the specific challenges you face in your family, gain guidance and support. During this 6 week course you will discover how to… Set up support for yourself that allows you to make changes in the automatic parenting responses you wish you didn’t have Listen to your child so that they feel connected and valued Understand your child’s emotions and what they are really asking for; crying, tantrums and how you can respond to them Set clear, effective limits with warmth Heal your child’s fears Help an angry child become playful and compassionate Work on any issues around sleep/food/separation/school/siblings/aggression and more Support groups are limited to 6 places. To book you can pay in full or leave a £50 deposit at https://paypal.me/BirthingABetterWorld and I will be in touch about paying the rest via payment plan. Here’s what parents said about this course Is the Parenting Starter Class right for me? What will I get from taking this class? You will by the end of the 6 week course have started to build a strong and potentially lifelong support network for parenting. You’ll know how to help your child when their behaviour goes off track and how to prevent...
Help your child prepare for school

Help your child prepare for school

We’re really lucky that our daughter is getting the opportunity to start processing her feelings about starting Reception in September each time we drop her brother off at the school. Last week she started crying as we were leaving his classroom under the pretext of wanting me to pick her up. I was unhurried and relaxed in the warm sun and felt able to Staylisten. “I’m not going to pick you up Sweetheart, you can walk just fine.” She wailed that she couldn’t walk, her feet were cold, she needed me to carry her. I gave her my full focus and warmth and said simple things like “You wanted me to carry you.” I was worried the noise might disturb the classroom, so I scooped her into a corner of the playground and sat by her as she flailed and screamed on the ground. She was still crying about her feet being cold. Then she said quietly “Anyway, the teachers in my class aren’t nice.” I love that she was able to now work on the real upset. I responded that it is a big school with lots of new children and teachers and every time I said that it allowed her to sob heartily. She has been really excited and positive about starting this school so I know that these were feelings of fear moving through. She was able to offload all her doubt about not knowing where to go and not knowing the other kids. Then as the feelings died down she needed another pretext to keep offloading about. She became fixated with the play equipment that...
Why does my kid lose it when we are having the loveliest time?

Why does my kid lose it when we are having the loveliest time?

Hi from the beautiful sun drenched Algarve, where I have made an impromptu winter escape with my two kids. They are having a delightful time, splashing in rock pools, running about my aunt’s gorgeous villa, loving each other and… crying a LOT! This afternoon after a sweet morning of Special Time we set out for another adventure at the much adored local beach. Except my daughter did not set out; she stood naked outside the front door refusing to wear clothes, get into her buggy or walk with us. “I’m cold, I’m cold, I won’t go to the beach” she wailed on repeat. I listened “I hear you, I’m sorry you don’t like our plan right now.” And I listened. And about 40 minutes went by, by which point her brother was running out of patience. Now she was howling “I want a different Tshirt” and I was reminding her that the one on offer was just fine. “I’m dying of boredom, I don’t even want to go anymore” now my son was sobbing too. I was fairly under-resourced and getting fed up by this point and vented to no-one in particular “I’m just trying to take you guys for a picnic on the beach, nothing horrible ya know!” And then the penny dropped. Spoiled Outing Syndrome. That is the technical term at Hand in Hand Parenting for this kind of phenomenon where you are having a lovely time and your kid loses it for no apparent reason. And sure enough, the wailing about the Tshirt progressed into a quiet “If Daddy were here, you could take Zephyr to...

Connection is so radical it summons the police

Someone called the police on me today, I can only assume because they thought I was being abusive to my child. This is how a sweet, connected morning can suddenly flip into the twilight zone when you have a neuroatypical kid. We had set off into town by bike. I was enjoying watching them speed ahead on their wheels and then wait together at each curb while I caught up and crossed them over. My big boy got slightly ahead and whizzed across a very quiet road without us. His sister followed blindly. I caught up, put my hand on his back and said, ever so gently “Sweetheart, I know you could see that road was safe to cross and I know you are big enough to make that call, but your sister just followed behind you and she’s too little to see if there’s danger. Could you please wait so we can cross together?” Our boy tends to be hyper-alert to anything he can interpret as the world not being a safe place. He is often triggered when he feels a lack of autonomy or trust in his ability and he totally lost it at this request. He started flying at me; punching, kicking, scratching, pinching. I tried to protect myself by holding his hands, but he kept wriggling away, before lunging, viciously again. When he started throwing his bike around on the pavement, I embraced him calmly and pulled him into my lap in a shop window. I crossed his arms across his body and held his wrists. He was furiously headbutting, spitting, biting my hands, kicking...

What if you spoke to yourself the way you speak to your kid?

I was walking up a long, beautiful hill in the wilderness today, with my reluctant 3 year old in tow. She was shivering and taking a few little steps at a time. About halfway up the hill she started screeching “I’m too tired” and “I can’t walk” over and over.   When the black clouds opened and spewed hail into the pounding winds, I held her frozen little hand and she huddled under my long coat . Although part of me shared her concerns about how I’d get a weary, icy Lausbub up the hill, what I said was things like “I know, the top looks so far away…You feel like you can’t go on… You are doing so well… You’ll make it… Just one step at a time… Look how far you’ve already come”. And suddenly, listening to her words of doubt screaming on repeat, I felt like I was hearing my own voice. The 3 year old in me that feels “I can’t do it” or “I’ll never get there” about pretty much anything long or hard that I do. And it struck me… what if I spoke to myself with such calm, patience and reassuring authority? I’ve previously been far more likely to agree with my inner doubting 3 year old, or worse, lay on heavy criticism. When I imagine how ineffective/damaging it would be to speak to my daughter like that, it pains me to think how I’ve done that to myself for so many years. My mother was doing her absolute best, but didn’t have much capacity to encourage me like that. Unfortunately her rather...