I am legally blind. When I say "blind," I mean blind. I'm so blind that I can't even see enough to read large print. My primary means of reading are through Braille and audio, and I am able to do anything a sighted person can do on a smartphone with the help of Voiceover. Having a baby and navigating the early years is difficult. Add single motherhood, and things get rough. But how to navigate parenting when you're the only parent, blind, and being alone with your baby most of the time? I did it, and I came out the other side stronger, more resourceful. I learned to change a diaper with the help of my mother. She bought a baby doll and proceeded to have me practice on the doll. But boy oh boy, the day before she went back to work, the day before my first day of being alone with my baby, I was a wreck. Nerves on top of postpartum hormones? No thanks. Brush-washing bottles became learned by being shown and practiced as well. I made his formula by using a Brezza; I just needed a sighted person to preset the machine so that it would put the right amount of formula into the bottle. The difficulty really started when my son got to the "pointing" stage. He couldn't verbalize what he wanted; all he was able to do was point. And this blind bat couldn't figure out (yes I do make blind jokes and love it), so he'd fuss. But I pushed through. I would figure out what he wanted eventually through knowing his routine, learning his cries, and plain and simple trial and error. In parenting with a disability (regardless of what the disability may be), abounding love for the child, the right resources, and determination are the keys to success. It can be done; I'm living proof.

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.

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!

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.

As a parent of eight, including two children adopted from China with special needs, I’ve experienced the joys and challenges of raising a blended family. Over the years, I've supported our kids through surgeries, behavioral and attachment issues, and setting healthy boundaries. These challenges have shaped me with a deep well of empathy and resilience. I’ve learned that trust, communication, and flexibility are key in parenting, especially when blending families or parenting children with special needs. My experience as a trained hospice worker, death doula, and grief coach has also deepened my understanding of life's transitions, whether it's navigating grief or supporting a family member through loss. I've been married for nearly 30 years, and through that time, my relationship has grown stronger through communication and mutual support. Whether you're a parent facing unique challenges or dealing with a life transition, I’m here to offer perspective, support, and a listening ear. I know firsthand the power of connection and showing up for others, and I want to help you find your strength and resilience.

Life has taken me through many chapters: raising three young men (two of whom are neurodivergent), navigating a 20-year career as a special education teacher, surviving toxic, narcissistic relationships, and rebuilding after divorce. Along the way, I learned the importance of setting boundaries, choosing self-love, and letting go of habits that no longer served me—including a complicated relationship with alcohol. The journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s made me passionate about helping others find their voice, their peace, and their power again. Today, I live a nomadic life focused on healing, authenticity, and supporting others through their toughest seasons. I'm here to meet you exactly where you are—and to remind you that your healing is possible.

Life hasn’t always been easy, and I’ve faced my share of struggles. Growing up as the second oldest of six kids, I learned early how to juggle responsibilities, including helping raise my older sister’s children in their early years. My own journey as a mom has had its challenges, too—infertility, pregnancy loss, and health issues like POTS have all shaped my path. But perhaps the most challenging experience was a serious car accident that left me feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. I struggled with suicidal thoughts before seeking therapy, and it was through that therapy that I was able to heal and rebuild my sense of purpose. As a parent, I’ve encountered many obstacles, from advocating for my son’s speech development to learning that a small but significant health issue—an ear bead that had been lodged in his ear for eight years—was affecting his hearing and development. Through patience, perseverance, and a willingness to explore natural and alternative solutions, I’ve learned how to face the obstacles in my life with resilience.

As a mom of three, I know firsthand the complexities of raising kids in today’s world, especially when mental health struggles are part of the journey. My kids have faced a range of challenges, including learning differences, anxiety, and depression. One of my children was severely impacted by bullying, which led to mood disruptions and a lot of pain. The pandemic and the rise of technology have only added to the isolation they feel. It can be a scary place, not knowing where to turn for support or understanding. I’ve watched my children struggle, but I’ve also seen them make progress. It’s not easy, but I’ve learned the importance of leaning on the right resources—behavioral therapy, support from family and friends—and the power of connection. I’ve also supported a dear friend through her own challenges with her children, offering a safe space for her to talk openly about her situation. It helped her feel less alone, knowing others were going through similar struggles. Now, I want to provide that same kind of support to others who are navigating the often tough and isolating road of parenting kids with mental health challenges.

I am the mother of a 20-year-old son and a 16-year-old daughter. And I have been through it all. Moving to a new state when my kids were 14 and 10, navigating a pandemic with teenagers, the pressures of high school life, college applications, gifted programs, peer pressure, driving, relationship issues… as well as all the adolescent obstacles that came before. As a stay at home mom, the pressure has always been on me to do everything— make lunches, volunteer at school, coach sports teams, drive them everywhere… and now I am at the stage where I am needed less physically, but the emotional and financial burdens are more prevalent. One of my kids is also part of the LGBTQ community, so I also have experience supporting and being involved in social justice advocacy on behalf of my child. No one gets a handbook when they become a parent, and none of us can do this alone… but together with support and advice given from learned experience, we can make this world a better place for our kids

I’m a single mom raising my neurodivergent son, and it’s been a journey of constant learning. After a tough school year, I made the decision to homeschool, which helped me see the importance of adapting to my son’s needs. I learned how to advocate for both him and myself, especially as I faced the challenges of balancing my own mental health with parenting. Parenting a neurodivergent child means letting go of traditional expectations and embracing flexibility, and I’ve discovered that it’s okay to walk a different path. It hasn’t been easy, but by trusting my instincts and making empowered choices, we’ve found a way to thrive together. Now, I want to help other single parents, especially those navigating similar challenges, feel supported and empowered in their own unique journeys.

Grief found me in more than one way. Becoming a mother - and specifically a single mother - brought a total identity shift I didn’t anticipate. The pace and priorities of my life changed so drastically that I felt like I had lost the “me” that existed before motherhood. That loss alone was disorienting. And then, just as I was learning how to adjust, my father died by suicide. That moment shattered the little stability I had left and brought me to a place where daily life felt almost unbearable - heavy, lonely, and stripped of joy. What helped me begin healing wasn’t just one thing - it was a series of small, brave choices. I took a short trip to be with close friends who didn’t ask anything of me, just sat beside me. I let myself cry. I sought therapy and joined an online support group for survivors of suicide loss. I reached out to other moms who understood the invisible weight I was carrying. I stopped pretending I was okay when I wasn’t - and began allowing myself the space and tools to grieve. In time, the grief shifted. It didn’t disappear, but it softened. I started practicing rituals to release what I was holding, to come back to myself. I began to notice a lightness I hadn’t felt in years. It was a deeper freedom and curiosity about who I was becoming. I now create boundaries that protect my peace and moments of stillness that help me listen to my own body and spirit. Grief changed me, but it also offered me a strange kind of clarity - a reminder that I am not alone, that healing is possible, and that being tender with ourselves is an act of strength.

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.

Parenting is hard enough...try doing it while neurodivergent, or raising a kid whose brain works differently. I know what it’s like to juggle meltdowns, missed routines, and the guilt that you’re “not doing it right.” I’ve navigated the overwhelm, the school meetings, the days when you’re masking for your kid and for yourself. Whether you’re ND, your child is, or both: let’s talk honestly about what works, what doesn’t, and how to survive (and sometimes even enjoy) this wild ride. No judgment, no perfect parent act only real talk and support. It's hard and I will not tell you it isn't, but I'll make sure you know you're not a bad parent!

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.

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.

Parenting with a narcissistic partner is incredibly hard. My husband left the hard parts of parenting to me, while using the fun moments to boost his image. At first, I thought he loved our sons. But over time, I saw his love was conditional—based on how much admiration they gave him. Once they started speaking up, he criticized them constantly. Nothing was ever good enough. I asked him to stop, but he wouldn't. So I focused on being their safe space—someone who listened, believed in them, and offered the warmth they weren’t getting from him. If you're navigating parenting in a similar situation, I’d love to support you and help you create stability for your kids.

I started drinking when I was 12, sneaking shots with friends and laughing like we were invincible. But even then, I was chasing more than just a buzz—I was trying to escape. Drinking made the chaos at home fade, so I kept chasing that numbness until it became all I knew. I partied through middle and high school, surrounded myself with people who could help me stay intoxicated, and ignored every warning sign. I experienced some of the darkest moments of my life while drunk, including being raped and repeatedly taken advantage of while too intoxicated to defend myself. I carried that pain for decades, burying it under more alcohol, more drugs. When I was 32, I lost custody of my children because I couldn’t stay sober. That shattered me—but it also woke me up. I went to jail, then rehab, and then straight into therapy. I did the work—every raw, painful step of it. I fought to be the parent my kids deserved, to be the woman I didn’t think I was capable of becoming. I’ve been sober since October 2021. Now, I help others because I know how terrifying and lonely that first step can be. I’m here to walk beside you, without judgment, because I’ve been there and I remember how it feels.