Hey Dana Jane

Tag: family

  • Dysfunction in Crisis: The Caretaker’s Burden and the Path to Freedom

    Crisis reveals everything. It strips away the everyday distractions and exposes the mechanics of a dysfunctional family in stark relief. When disaster strikes—an illness, a death, an addiction spiraling out of control—everyone assumes their role like a well-rehearsed play.

    The Martyr drowns in their suffering, making sure everyone sees their pain.
    The Denier pretends nothing is wrong, keeping up appearances at all costs.
    The Scapegoat absorbs the blame, cast as the family’s eternal problem.
    And then there’s the Caretaker—me, maybe you—the one who holds it all together.

    We are the steady hands that wipe tears, the calm voices that diffuse tension, the planners, the peacemakers, the ones who set our own needs aside so everyone else can function. We step up before anyone even asks because we have always been the ones to fix, to manage, to endure.

    But here’s the truth no one tells you: the Caretaker breaks, too.

    We don’t shatter in obvious ways. We don’t scream or slam doors. Our fractures appear in the quiet—exhaustion that seeps into our bones, resentment we swallow before it can surface, the loneliness of being the one who carries everything while no one carries us.

    And yet, we keep going. Because who else will?

    The Lie We Believe

    The biggest deception of the Caretaker role is that we must continue at all costs. That without us, everything falls apart. That our worth is measured in how much we can endure.

    But let me ask you something—when was the last time someone cared for you? When was the last time you let them?

    The truth is, dysfunction thrives when roles never change. And healing begins when one person decides to break the pattern.

    A New Way Forward

    If you are the Caretaker, I want you to know this: you do not have to save everyone. You are allowed to step back. You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to say, I need help, too.

    Maybe that starts small—saying no to a responsibility that isn’t yours, letting someone else manage their own emotions instead of absorbing them, asking for support instead of assuming no one will give it.

    Maybe it means reminding yourself, daily, that love is not measured in sacrifice alone. That your needs are not burdens. That the people who truly love you will not disappear when you stop being their fixer.

    Hope for the Weary

    There is a life beyond being the caretaker. A life where you are not just holding everyone else together but living fully, deeply, for yourself. It won’t be easy. The people who have relied on you to be their constant may resist. But you were never meant to be the foundation of someone else’s survival.

    You deserve peace. You deserve care. You deserve a love that nurtures you, not just one that takes.

    Step back. Breathe. Let the world spin without you holding it up for a while. It will keep turning. And you? You will finally be free.

  • Green & Gold: A Love Letter to Wisconsin, Family, and Football

    There are movies that entertain, movies that inspire, and then there are movies that take root in your soul. Green & Gold is one of those movies.

    Gannon and I saw it yesterday on opening weekend, and from the very first scene, I knew I was about to witness something special. A story about the humble, hardworking, God-fearing farming communities of Wisconsin—woven together with the deep, unwavering love for the Green Bay Packers—was bound to be emotional. But I wasn’t prepared for just how deeply it would resonate with me.

    Sitting in that dark theater, memories of my childhood came rushing back, so vivid I could almost smell the fresh-cut hay. I was back on my grandma’s farm, watching my Uncle Pauly deliver a calf—his arm buried up to his shoulder to help bring new life into the world. I could feel the rough twine of hay bales in my hands, the weight of them just a little too much for my small arms to lift. I saw myself, cautiously walking the aisle of the old barn, petting the heads of the Holsteins, naming them—Bessie, Bossy, Lulu, Buttercup—just like Craig T. Nelson’s character, Buck, named his cows after the 1968 Packers Championship team.

    I thought of my Grandma Alice, how fiercely my family cared for her after her stroke, how we did everything we could to keep her home, safe, and surrounded by love. When Jenny’s grandma had an accident on the farm, the ache in my heart was real. I knew that story.

    And then came the real-life footage of the 1992 Green Bay Packers. Brett Favre, the Gunslinger. Sterling Sharpe. LeRoy Butler. John Jurkovic. Chris Jacke. The icons of my childhood, the voices of my dad and siblings echoing in my memory as we watched those games together. I had goosebumps reliving that era, the golden days of Sundays spent in front of the TV, where wins felt like magic and losses felt personal.

    Craig T. Nelson embodied the kind of Wisconsin man I’ve known my whole life—the hardworking dairy farmer who loves God, his land, his family, and his neighbors. A man whose word is his bond, whose hands are rough from labor but gentle with his children. A man who always does the right thing, even loving his enemy.

    And then there was Jenny—played so beautifully by Madison Lawlor. A girl growing up on a farm, knowing the work never ends, but still daring to dream of something more. I was Jenny. I understood the exhaustion, the longing, the pride. The way your roots never really let go of you, even when you reach for something beyond the fields.

    As the credits rolled, I wiped my tears, turned to Gannon, and asked, “What did you think?”

    “This is the greatest movie ever,” he said.

    I nodded, my throat tight. It’s the Wisconsin, football, farming version of Field of Dreams, I thought.

    And let’s not forget the voice of Charlie Berens, carrying through the film like a thread tying past and present together. It stirred something else inside me—a reminder of Bob Uecker, the voice of my childhood, the sound of sports radio humming in the background of my life. It made me realize, maybe more than ever, how proud I am to be from Wisconsin. To have farming in my blood, to be part of a community that shows up for each other, to wear green and gold like a badge of honor.

    Gannon was right. Best movie ever. Go see it. And Go, Pack!

  • Work, Food, and Perspective: My Trip to Austin

    After a short break from the blog, I’m back! I spent the past few days traveling to Texas for work, flying into Austin for a conference with two colleagues. The trip itself was mostly smooth, except for one unsettling moment—mid-flight, a man seated across the aisle began having seizures. The flight attendants quickly jumped into action, and an announcement was made asking for any doctors or nurses on board. Thankfully, a nurse in first class was able to assist him until we landed, where paramedics were waiting at the gate. It was a scary situation to witness, but I was relieved to hear he was okay.

    Conference by Day, Relaxation by Night

    The conference itself was productive—long days filled with sessions and networking. But while my colleagues ventured out for beers after dinner, I found myself retreating to my hotel room, book in hand, flipping through TV reruns, and falling asleep early… three nights in a row. When did I become the person who prefers silence over socializing? Maybe it’s just the reality of parenthood—when no one is yelling “Mom!” every ten seconds, the quiet feels like a luxury.

    A Culinary Adventure

    One of the highlights of any trip to Austin is the food, and this visit did not disappoint.

    • Sunday Night: I took my colleagues to Moonshine Grill, a favorite from a previous trip. This time, I tried the horseradish-encrusted salmon with crispy Brussels sprouts—absolute perfection. My teammates indulged in street corn queso, blackened catfish, and chicken & waffles, and they loved every bite.
    • Monday Night: We hit up Terry Black’s Barbecue, a staple in Austin. We devoured ribs, brisket, and green beans. Lucas ordered a beef rib so massive, we joked it was the size of a child’s femur. I stuck to the pork ribs, which were fall-off-the-bone delicious.
    • Tuesday Night: Our final dinner was at Pinthouse Brewing, and wow—this place was a winner. I tried their cider and hard kombucha (both fantastic), but the food was next level. The wagyu burger was hands down the best I’ve had, and the sourdough pizza was an unexpected delight. Safe to say, we’ll be dining here again when we return next month.

    Gratitude & Perspective

    After a whirlwind few days, I was more than ready to be home on Wednesday. Travel always makes me grateful for the pilots and crews who get us safely from one place to another. That gratitude hit even harder the next morning when I woke up to the devastating news of a mid-air collision between an American Airlines plane and a military helicopter at Reagan International Airport in Washington, D.C. It was heartbreaking to hear of the lives lost. Moments like these remind me how fragile life is and why we should never take it for granted. My heart goes out to those grieving their loved ones.

    This trip was full of work, good food, and quiet reflection. And as much as I love traveling, there’s nothing like coming home.

    Moonshine Grill, downtown Austin
    Terry Black’s Barbecue, downtown Austin
    Pinthouse Brewing, Austin, TX

  • Protecting Your Family From Manipulative People

    Let’s talk about something we all hope never to deal with: people who try to worm their way into your family and use manipulation to get what they want. You know the type—they seem charming at first, maybe even helpful, but over time, their true colors start to show. Before you know it, they’re stirring up drama, playing the victim, or turning people against each other. It’s exhausting, right?

    Here’s the thing: protecting your family from these kinds of people isn’t just important—it’s absolutely necessary. Let’s break it down.

    How Manipulators Operate

    These people don’t show up with a flashing sign that says, “I’m here to mess things up!” They’re sneaky. They might:

    • Act helpless: They love to make you feel sorry for them. Suddenly, you’re bending over backward to help someone who never seems to help themselves.
    • Twist the truth: They’ll make you question your own memory or feelings. You’ll catch yourself thinking, Am I the problem here? Spoiler alert: you’re not.
    • Exploit weaknesses: Maybe they latch onto the soft-hearted member of your family, or they guilt-trip someone who’s too nice to say no.
    • Create drama: They thrive on chaos. They’ll pit people against each other or stir up conflict to keep the focus off their own behavior.

    Sound familiar?

    Why It’s Such a Big Deal

    If you let this kind of behavior slide, it doesn’t just go away. It grows. Here’s what happens when you don’t set boundaries:

    1. Trust gets shaky: Suddenly, you’re questioning each other instead of the person causing the problems.
    2. Everyone’s drained: Dealing with manipulation is emotionally exhausting. You end up feeling tense, frustrated, and maybe even guilty for wanting peace.
    3. The family dynamic shifts: Instead of feeling like a team, your family starts to feel fractured, which is exactly what the manipulator wants.

    So, What Can You Do?

    Protecting your family doesn’t mean you have to be rude or aggressive, but it does mean you have to take a stand. Here’s how:

    • Set boundaries: Be clear about what’s okay and what’s not. And don’t just set the boundary—enforce it.
    • Trust your gut: If someone’s actions consistently make you uncomfortable, pay attention to that feeling.
    • Stick together: Talk openly as a family about what’s going on. The manipulator’s power comes from dividing you—don’t give them that chance.
    • Know when to walk away: If someone keeps crossing the line despite your best efforts, it might be time to cut ties. It’s tough, but sometimes it’s the only way to protect your peace.

    It’s Okay to Protect Your Space

    At the end of the day, you don’t owe anyone an open door to your family. If someone’s behavior is causing harm, you’re allowed to step in and say, “Enough.” That doesn’t make you mean or heartless—it makes you protective of the people you care about.

    Family should be a place of love and support, not manipulation and drama. If someone can’t respect that, it’s not your job to make excuses for them. Trust yourself, stand firm, and protect what matters most. You’ve got this.

  • The Harsh Reality of Addiction: A Wake-Up Call for Parents

    Addiction is a devastating force that doesn’t just harm the person using—it tears through families, leaving emotional wreckage in its wake. For parents battling substance abuse, the consequences stretch far beyond their own lives, affecting their children in ways that can last a lifetime.

    When addiction takes control, responsibilities fall by the wayside. Nights spent using instead of parenting create a home filled with instability, neglect, and heartbreak. And the ones who suffer the most are the children left behind.

    Addiction’s Impact on Families

    Cocaine and other hardcore drugs don’t just destroy bank accounts and bodies—they destroy relationships. According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA), addiction often leads to erratic behavior, financial instability, and a breakdown in trust. For children living in this environment, these problems are more than just abstract—they define their daily lives.

    Kids of addicts frequently face emotional neglect and inconsistent care. When a parent is consumed by substance abuse, things like helping with homework, showing up for school events, or simply being present for bedtime stories often fall by the wayside. Instead, children are left to navigate a confusing and lonely world, wondering why their parent’s attention is elsewhere.

    A Forgotten Aspect: The Role Reversal

    One heartbreaking aspect often overlooked is the role reversal that occurs in homes where addiction takes hold. Children of addicts often become their parent’s caretaker, nursemaid, defender, and protector.

    It’s not uncommon for these children to:

    • Nurse their parents back to health after hangovers or binges.
    • Feed and care for a parent who is too high or intoxicated to function.
    • Find their parents passed out and ensure their safety.

    These children don’t just take care of siblings—they become the primary caregiver for their entire family. Many even take on jobs to provide for the household because their parents spend money on their addiction instead of necessities like food or bills. In a cruel twist, parents may take the child’s hard-earned money to fund their addiction, forcing the child to hide their earnings in a desperate attempt to keep their family afloat.

    This reversal—becoming a parent to your parent—is one of the most damaging consequences of addiction. It robs children of their childhood, forcing them into roles they’re far too young to handle.

    The Hidden Toll on Children

    The effects of growing up in a home with addiction are profound. Children often experience:

    • Emotional Trauma: Feelings of neglect, abandonment, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.
    • Developmental Delays: Struggles with school, friendships, and trust due to the instability at home.
    • Long-Term Consequences: A higher likelihood of developing anxiety, depression, or substance abuse problems themselves.

    A Call to Action

    For parents battling addiction, it’s critical to understand that the harm extends far beyond their own lives. Addiction creates a ripple effect that impacts every member of the family, especially the most vulnerable ones.

    But it doesn’t have to stay this way. Help is available for those willing to seek it.

    Your children don’t need perfection—they need presence. They need stability, love, and someone who puts their needs above all else. Breaking free from addiction is hard, but the rewards are immense: a better life for you and a brighter future for your children.

    Breaking the Cycle

    If you’re a parent struggling with addiction, remember that every day is an opportunity to make a change. Your children shouldn’t have to carry the weight of your choices—they deserve to be kids, not caregivers. Seek help for yourself and your family.

    Recovery is possible, and resources are available. Don’t wait. Your family’s future depends on it.

    If you or someone you know is battling addiction, reach out today. Because no child should have to be their parent’s parent.

  • Another Christmas Come and Gone

    Another Christmas has come and gone. Just like that, the wrapping paper is torn and tossed, the cookies are crumbs, and the lights are starting to lose their magic. Every year, I swear I’ll slow down and savor it all, but somehow, 2024 felt especially fast and furious. It’s wild to think the new year is just a week away.

    Time is a thief, isn’t it?

    I look at my boys, and I wonder how they grew up so quickly. One minute they were sitting on my lap, clutching a sippy cup, watching Christmas specials, and the next, they’re towering over me, with their own opinions about life and their own dreams to chase. It’s bittersweet. I love watching them become who they’re meant to be, but I’d give anything to relive those simple moments—just for a day.

    And then there are my parents. Every Christmas with them feels more fleeting. Their mortality weighs on me, not in a sad way, but in a deeply reflective one. It makes me think of my own. I still feel like the kid at heart, caught somewhere between wanting to sleep in on Christmas morning and needing to make everything magical for my family. But now, the torch has been passed, and I’m the one hosting the holidays.

    Me—the holiday matriarch. It feels strange even to write that.

    I catch myself sometimes, standing in my kitchen with flour on my shirt and a ham in the oven, wondering how I got here. When did I become the one keeping the traditions alive, the one making sure the stockings are hung and the cookies are baked? I still feel like the child running around the house, sneaking extra sprinkles on my sugar cookies. And yet, here I am, creating those memories for my boys.

    If I’m honest, it’s overwhelming at times. But it’s also a gift. A reminder that life keeps moving, even when we wish it would pause. It’s a call to hold tight to the moments we have—to look around the room and soak in the laughter, the chaos, and the love.

    As we say goodbye to Christmas and prepare for a new year, I’m reminded that the best we can do is live fully in the time we’re given. To show up, to love deeply, and to embrace every moment—even the messy, complicated ones.

    So here’s to another year gone by and a new one on the horizon. May we find the courage to keep passing the torch, to honor those who came before us, and to cherish the memories we’re making for those who come after.

    Time may be a thief, but we have the power to make it count.

  • Christmas Eve: Roast Beast, Dice Games, and Family Nostalgia

    Christmas Eve at our house this year was a beautiful mix of chaos, laughter, and roast beast (as Gannon insists on calling it). We hosted my parents and siblings, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like having a house full of people you’ve known your entire life. The good, the crazy, and the hilarious all come rushing back when we’re together.

    We went all out with the food—roast beef, ham, meatballs, cheesy potatoes, deviled eggs, shrimp, broccoli salad, and a veggie tray. It was the kind of spread that makes you wonder why we don’t eat like this every day. Everyone brought something to the table, literally, except my mom. This year, she didn’t have to. She’s been battling cancer, and for once, I wanted her to just enjoy herself, no casserole dish in tow. Watching her relax and laugh with her grandkids warmed my heart more than any holiday candle ever could.

    Gannon, of course, was thrilled to see his cousins. He rallied the troops for a dice game with Poppa Frank that quickly turned into a miniature riot when they discovered the treasure trove of costumes and toys in the playroom. Our house echoed with the sound of kids laughing, arguing over who got to be the Packers quarterback, and the occasional crash (nothing broke… I think).

    Later, we all piled into the living room to watch Home Alone—a tradition, because no Christmas is complete without Kevin McCallister outsmarting two hapless burglars. We followed it up with Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, one of my dad and brother’s favorites. The living room was a sea of kids, crumb-covered paper plates, and the occasional snoring adult (no names, but you know who you are).

    As the night wound down, I found myself sitting back and taking it all in. Family isn’t perfect. We argue, we annoy each other, and we bring a lifetime of baggage to every holiday gathering. But when it matters, we come together. We set aside our differences, gather around the table, and play dice games with Poppa Frank like we’re kids again.

    This Christmas Eve reminded me that no matter what challenges we face—whether it’s a tough year, a health battle, or just the everyday chaos of life—there’s something magical about family. It’s messy and complicated, but it’s also beautiful.

    So here’s to another Christmas filled with nostalgia, laughter, and love. And here’s to many more nights of roast beast, toy-strewn living rooms, and the comforting chaos of being with the people who know you best.

  • Remembering Grandma Alice at Christmas

    Christmas always brings a swirl of emotions for me—joy for the present and a wistful longing for the past. This season, more than any other, makes me think of my Grandma Alice, who passed away on December 6, 2005. Though she has been gone for nearly two decades, her memory is woven into every part of the holiday season. She loved Christmas, and it was a time when the house was filled with all her children and grandchildren, bringing the family together in a way only she could.

    Grandma was a warrior. Widowed in 1978, she endured unimaginable heartache after losing Grandpa Adolph. She also survived several strokes that left her partially paralyzed, but she never let those challenges dim her spirit or her love for her family. Christmas, to her, was a chance to pour love into each of us, whether through the meals she helped prepare or the gifts she so thoughtfully gave.

    A Rotating Celebration of Love

    Every year, Christmas Day rotated between my mom, Aunt Donna, and Aunt Mary’s homes. Regardless of whose house hosted, the warmth and joy were always the same. Grandma ensured the traditions stayed alive, even when her health declined.

    One of my favorite memories was the mountain of presents under the tree. Grandma always went above and beyond to make sure every grandchild felt special. She often enlisted Aunt Judy to help her wrap gifts, and it wasn’t unusual to find something wrapped in a cereal box—a funny, practical touch that still makes me smile. The excitement of tearing into those uniquely wrapped presents is a feeling I’ll never forget.

    The Feast

    Of course, Christmas wasn’t complete without the feast. The table overflowed with family favorites: ham, Polish sausage, delicious potatoes, and green bean casserole. And let’s not forget the desserts! The cutout cookies and peanut butter balls were legendary, a treat we all looked forward to year after year.

    It wasn’t just about the food or the gifts, though. What I treasure most is the time spent with my cousins, playing and laughing. We didn’t get to see each other every day, so Christmas was extra special. It was a time to reconnect and create memories that we’d carry with us long after the holiday ended.

    Grandma’s Legacy

    Looking back, I realize how much effort Grandma put into making Christmas magical for us. She made sure we had these beautiful moments to hold onto, even when life was difficult for her. Her resilience, love, and determination to keep our family close are lessons I carry with me to this day.

    Now, as a parent, I pray that my children will have fond memories of Christmas, just as I do. I want them to feel the same warmth and love that Grandma Alice worked so hard to give us. Whether it’s through baking cookies, unwrapping gifts, or simply being together, I hope to pass on her legacy of making Christmas a time for family and love.

    So this Christmas, as I cook the meal or watch my kids tear into their presents, I’ll be thinking of Grandma Alice. I’ll be grateful for the memories she gave me and for the lessons she taught about love, family, and resilience. And I’ll pray that somewhere, she’s smiling down on us, knowing how much she’s missed and loved.

  • Four Days Until Christmas: Cue the Chaos!

    It’s here, folks. The final countdown. We’re officially four days away from Christmas, and you know what that means: peak holiday panic! If you’re anything like me, this is the time of year when you question all your life choices, like why you thought you had “plenty of time” to buy gifts or why you volunteered to host the family dinner (again).

    Let’s break down what this magical-but-chaotic moment looks like:

    The Gift-Giving Gauntlet

    If your Amazon cart still looks like a wish list instead of an order history, it’s time to accept your fate: you’re now at the mercy of expedited shipping or, worse, the mall. (Is there anything more terrifying than a mall parking lot in late December? I think not.) Bonus points if you have to brave the store for “one last thing” and end up wandering aimlessly through aisles of scented candles, wondering if Aunt Carol would prefer “Winter Wonderland” or “Cinnamon Chaos.” Spoiler alert: she’ll say she loves it but secretly re-gift it next year.

    The Wrapping Olympics

    For those who actually have gifts ready, congratulations! Now comes the wrapping phase, where you realize that you’ve once again overestimated your abilities. One gift looks like it was wrapped by an elf, and the next resembles a crumpled burrito. And don’t even get me started on finding the tape. I swear it’s a Christmas tradition for the tape to vanish exactly when you need it most.

    The Great Cookie Crisis

    Oh, you thought you were done baking after the neighborhood cookie exchange? Think again. Someone (probably you) decided homemade cookies are a “must” for Santa. Cue the flour tornado, the burnt batches, and the inevitable argument over whether gingerbread men or sugar cookies reign supreme.

    The “Did I Forget Something?” Spiral

    With four days to go, it’s also prime time for the “did I forget someone?” panic. Your brain will inevitably conjure up the image of your child’s teacher, your neighbor, or that coworker who casually got you a gift last year, and suddenly you’re racing to find something that screams, “I totally planned this in advance!”

    The Magic Amid the Mayhem

    And yet, in the middle of all the madness, there’s something undeniably magical about this time of year. Maybe it’s the twinkling lights or the sound of your favorite holiday songs. Maybe it’s the way your kids’ faces light up when they talk about Christmas morning. Or maybe it’s the sheer adrenaline of pulling it all together at the last possible second.

    So here we are, four days out, holding on to our hot cocoa and our sanity by a thread. Take a breath. Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect to be memorable. Whether you’re a meticulous planner or a last-minute scrambler, Christmas will come, the day will be special, and you’ll laugh about the chaos later.

    But for now, good luck—and may your wrapping paper never run out before the last gift.

  • Navigating the Parenting Community: A Return to High School Dynamics?

    Entering the realm of parenthood often brings about a sense of camaraderie and mutual support among individuals facing similar challenges and joys. However, for many, the parent community can sometimes resemble a flashback to the social hierarchies and cliques of high school. The parallels are striking – the pressure to conform, the judgment based on superficial factors, and the exclusion of those who don’t fit the mold.

    In this modern era of parenting, where choices about everything from diapering to vaccination to career paths are scrutinized and debated, it’s easy to see how these divisions can arise. The “mommy wars” of yesteryears, which pitted mothers against each other over parenting philosophies, seem to have evolved into a more nuanced landscape, where not only parenting choices but also personal identities and ideologies come into play.

    The parent community, like any social group, can be prone to forming cliques based on perceived notions of coolness, wokeness, or conformity to certain standards. Whether it’s dressing a certain way, being part of the right social circles, or espousing the “correct” beliefs, individuals who deviate from these norms may find themselves on the receiving end of exclusion and ostracism.

    The pressure to prioritize one’s own child above all else can also contribute to this sense of division. While it’s natural for parents to want the best for their children, this shouldn’t come at the expense of empathy and solidarity with other parents. Viewing parenthood as a competition, where one must outdo others in terms of achievements or adherence to certain standards, only serves to reinforce these harmful dynamics reminiscent of high school cliques.

    At school drop-offs and pick-ups, instead of fostering a sense of community and support, some parents find themselves facing cold shoulders and judgmental glances. The fear of not measuring up to the expectations of the perceived “cool kids” can create a toxic atmosphere where authenticity and vulnerability are discouraged.

    But it doesn’t have to be this way. Parenthood is a journey filled with both struggles and triumphs, and no one has all the answers. Embracing diversity of thought and experience within the parent community can enrich everyone’s journey and foster a sense of belonging for all.

    Rather than succumbing to the pressures of conformity and competition, we should strive to cultivate empathy, understanding, and inclusivity. We must recognize that each parent is navigating their own unique challenges and celebrating their own victories, and there is no one-size-fits-all approach to parenting.

    Let’s break free from the shackles of high school-esque social dynamics and embrace a more compassionate and supportive parent community. After all, the only true loss is perpetuating a cycle of bullying and exclusion into adulthood, leaving behind a legacy of regret instead of connection. Let’s choose understanding over judgment, empathy over exclusion, and solidarity over division. Because in the end, we’re all just trying to do our best for our children and ourselves.