Latest news with #AfterBedtimeWithBigLittleFeelings
Yahoo
31-07-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Kids are always watching. What are you teaching them about burnout?
"You don't have to earn a break." As a parent, you're constantly multitasking — anticipating your children's needs, managing their emotions and keeping everything running smoothly. It's no wonder you're tired. Some days (or most days) you may feel like you need to keep pushing yourself, even when you've already hit your limit. This can lead to burnout, a persistent exhaustion that even a good night's rest can't remedy. Actually taking a break and cutting yourself some slack may feel like a foreign concept or a luxury, but here's something to remember: Your kids are watching how you take care of yourself (or don't) and are learning from you. In the 10th episode of their podcast, After Bedtime With Big Little Feelings, Big Little Feelings founders Kristin Gallant, a parenting coach with a background in maternal and child education, and Deena Margolin, a child therapist specializing in interpersonal neurobiology, break down the science of burnout, how to stop the stress cycle and why the usual suggestions (take a hot bath! Have a glass of wine!) don't necessarily work. In this edition of Yahoo's "" column, Gallant talks about how, consciously or not, we often learn to keep pushing ourselves by watching our parents do the same — and how we can unintentionally pass those unhealthy habits on to our kids. Gallant also shares four phrases parents can use to model honoring your limits and showing that you don't have to prove your worth as a parent by burning yourself out. If you're exhausted and wondering why — why you can't rest, why you feel guilty when you do, why it feels like no matter how much you give, it's never enough — you're not alone. You're likely not just burned out. You're part of a generational cycle of burnout that's been quietly passed down for decades. Here's how to spot it, stop it and raise the first generation that doesn't have to earn their worth through overdoing it. What messages did we absorb growing up? Many of us grew up watching moms who never sat down, dads who never stood still or caregivers who gave and gave until there was nothing left in the tank. We absorbed messages like: 'Busy = valuable.' 'Rest = laziness.' 'Self-sacrifice = love.' Even if no one said it out loud, the message was clear: Your worth is measured by how much you do — not how you feel. It's not about blaming our parents. It's about seeing the invisible rules we were given so we don't hand them to our kids. If burnout was treated like a badge of honor in your childhood — 'My mom did it all and never complained!' — you probably learned that running on empty is just the price of being a good mom, a good partner, a good person. And when burnout is invisible, we're less likely to recognize it in ourselves … until it's too late. How burnout sneaks into our parenting scripts You might not even notice it. But burnout is hiding in the tiny things we say: 'Be strong.' 'Push through.' 'We don't quit.' 'Come on, you're fine.' They sound innocent enough. But they reinforce the idea that emotions are inconvenient, limits are shameful, and your body is something to override, not listen to. The pressure to be a 'good mom' is literally burning us out Modern motherhood has become a trap: Be a 1950s housewife. With a 2020s career. With zero help. And no margin for error. If you're not constantly self-improving, baking from scratch and being emotionally attuned 24/7 while balancing a full-time job, you feel like you're failing. The truth? The 'superwoman' myth isn't empowering. It's exploitative. It keeps us isolated, overwhelmed and convinced we're the problem, when really, the system is. How to raise kids who don't tie their worth to pushing themselves until burnout We model something different. Even if it feels radical. Even if it's deeply uncomfortable at first. We say: 'I'm tired, so I'm resting.' 'You don't have to earn a break.' 'Your feelings matter.' 'Your limits are allowed.' We show our kids that asking for help isn't a weakness, it's wisdom. That worth isn't earned through doing, it's inherent. We break the cycle not through perfection, but through presence — through brave, tiny moments of choosing ourselves, so our kids learn they can choose themselves too. Want to raise a child who doesn't burn out at 35? Let them see you rest. Let them see you say no. Let them see you choose your own humanity. That's how the cycle ends. That's how the healing begins. Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
20-06-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
We grew up with food rules, guilt and shame. Our kids don't have to.
Diet culture is everywhere, often putting people in a perpetual cycle of restricting what they eat to try to lose weight, then indulging after feeling deprived, followed by heaps of guilt and shame — and then repeat. Whether parents realize it or not, those internalized messages many of us picked up while growing up — from unhealthy food rules to body dissatisfaction — can be passed down to our children if we're not paying attention. In the fourth episode of their podcast After Bedtime With Big Little Feelings, Big Little Feelings founders Deena Margolin, a child therapist specializing in interpersonal neurobiology, and Kristin Gallant, a parenting coach with a background in maternal and child education, along with Gallant's husband Tyler, discuss how diet culture shaped their own relationships with food and their bodies and how harmful those negative messages can be. For Yahoo's column , Gallant shares five ways parents can help break the cycle of diet culture and raise kids to have a healthy relationship with food and their bodies. For many of us, food wasn't just food — it was rules, guilt, restriction and confusion. Maybe you grew up watching your parents do SlimFast or Jenny Craig, talk about 'cheat days' or cut carbs before vacation. Maybe you were told to finish your plate, and then told to 'watch your attitude' in the same breath. Maybe you lived in a house where all the 'fun food' was off limits, so you snuck it when you could, eating in secret. Or maybe, like so many, you absorbed the quiet, relentless message: Your body isn't good enough unless it's smaller. For Deena, this turned into an eating disorder. For Kristin, it meant years of hating her bigger body. For Tyler, it was the shame of sneaking 'forbidden' foods at friends' houses. Diet culture was the air we breathed. And now, we're trying to raise kids in clean air. But how do you undo decades of conditioning while parenting in real time? Here are five concrete steps you can take. We were handed a script: Be smaller. Eat less. Look 'good.' Don't take up too much space. Today, we're writing a new one. We want our kids to have a relationship with food that's grounded in trust, joy and respect. We want them to move their bodies because it feels good, not to punish themselves. We want them to know, deep in their bones, that all bodies are good bodies. That starts by recognizing how we were shaped, so we can choose something different. You don't have to throw out nutrition to break up with diet culture. You can serve a variety of foods without labeling them 'good' or 'bad.' You can offer structure, like set mealtimes and cues that the kitchen is closing, without control or scarcity. You can also teach kids how different foods help them feel energized, focused and strong — without tying their worth to what's on their plate. This isn't about 'perfection.' It's about consistency, balance and a safe emotional environment around food. We want our kids to feel confident around food. Not obsessive or ashamed. Just … free. That means: Talking about food as fuel. Which foods help us feel strong, full and focused? Letting food be fun sometimes, without making it special or off-limits. Keeping food neutral. Food isn't a reward. It's also not a punishment or a bribe. It's just food. When the pressure is off, kids learn to listen to their bodies and trust them. Let's teach our kids that movement isn't about 'burning off' anything. It's about coming home to your body and feeling alive in it. So run because it clears your mind. Dance because it's fun. Stretch because your body deserves care. That shift? It's powerful. It tells our kids: 'Your body isn't a project. It's a gift.' Here's what we know: Body image isn't just shaped by what your kids hear; it's also shaped by what they see. When they see us treating our bodies with respect — feeding them, moving them, resting them — they learn to do the same. When they see us existing in photos, wearing the swimsuit, eating the cake, being present … they learn that worthiness isn't conditional. Let's build homes where all bodies belong. Where the goal isn't thinness — it's wholeness.
Yahoo
11-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
My husband and I forgot how to be a team after having kids. These 4 steps saved our marriage.
The founders of the popular parenting platform Big Little Feelings — moms and real-life best friends Deena Margolin, a child therapist specializing in interpersonal neurobiology, and Kristin Gallant, a parenting coach with a background in maternal and child education — are back with more parenting wisdom in Yahoo's new column called , a companion to their podcast, After Bedtime With Big Little Feelings. In the third episode of their show, Margolin and her husband open up about how communication, or a lack thereof, played a role in their marital challenges, including leading to feelings of resentment. Margolin reveals that she felt alone and unheard while her husband tended to overthink in isolation rather than talk things through. Margolin explains how their different communication styles set up roadblocks in their relationship and shares the four strategies that saved their marriage. Before kids, my husband and I rarely fought. We had different personalities, sure — me, more internal and emotional; him, more logical and reserved. But we clicked. We were in love. We knew how to laugh. We were a team. And then we had a baby. And then we quickly had another baby. Then somewhere between the 2 a.m. feeds, the cracked nipples, the mounting work deadlines and the Costco-size packs of diapers, we forgot how to be that team. We didn't yell. We didn't throw plates. But we didn't connect at all. In fact, we barely talked, at least not in a way that made either of us feel seen. I felt so alone in our relationship, and he felt like he couldn't win. And neither of us knew how to say or get what we really needed from each other. Here's the dangerous lie many couples fall into: 'If they really loved me, they'd just know what I need.' But here's the truth, both personally and professionally: Your partner is not a mind reader. And they never will be! I spent so much time feeling invisible, unheard and unsupported. I was carrying the entire mental load of parenting and managing our household, while also building a business and trying not to completely lose myself in motherhood. Meanwhile, my husband was doing all his problem-solving and decision making in his own head. So by the time he brought something to me, it was already fully formed: 'This is what I think we should do.' And I was sitting there, like: Wait. What about me? What about what I think? We weren't screaming at each other — we were slowly drifting. And what grew in that silence wasn't peace, it was resentment. Psychologist John Gottman refers to the 'four horsemen of the apocalypse' in relationships — criticism, contempt, stonewalling and defensiveness — and resentment can be a part of that. Once it's there, it poisons everything, which definitely was true for my relationship. When we're not talking openly and vulnerably and truly hearing each other, we make assumptions. We project stories. We stop being partners and start becoming adversaries. So, what actually helped us? Here's what finally started to shift things in our marriage — not overnight, but over time: Emotional intelligence is the ability to notice, name and regulate emotions, and it's one of the strongest predictors of relationship satisfaction (and yes, it can be learned!). My husband couldn't communicate because he didn't have the tools or even the language to do so. That's not a flaw. It's how a lot of men (and people) are raised. Emotions were never modeled or named in his home. He had to learn how to feel and speak. And well, I am a therapist, who had also been in therapy myself, so we had different skill sets. That had never really been a major issue for us until now, in this new chapter as parents. Therapy gave my husband that ability, and that gave us a starting place. I'm an external processor, so I like to 'walk the parking lot,' meaning talk it out in real time. My husband is an internal processor, so he loops through everything in his own mind before sharing. This used to make us clash, but now we name it and work with it. We know we need more check-ins, more intentional time and more conversations that are just about us. (Not the grocery list. Not the school calendar. Us.) We started being explicit and made invisible expectations visible. Here's what that looks like: 'I need you to tell me you see how hard I'm working right now.' 'I'm overwhelmed. Can we talk through who's doing what this week?' 'I don't want you to solve this. I just want you to listen.' And yes, it was awkward at first. But it was better than the guessing game. And research shows that couples who clearly state their needs and check in about expectations regularly have better conflict recovery and stronger emotional bonds. When we'd relied on spontaneity and hope that it would just 'figure itself out' when it came to chores, communication and more, we failed. We learned that when we had more structure, we succeeded more. We started a shared Google calendar. We wrote down the weekly division of labor. We scheduled time to actually talk without distractions and without phones. One of the biggest steps for us: We also gave each other alone time on purpose, so we could fill our own tanks and show up as a more grounded version of ourselves when together. Sure, scheduling isn't romantic, but it definitely saved us!
Yahoo
05-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Your kid's temper tantrum doesn't mean you're failing as a parent: How I stay calm and connected in the chaos.
The founders of the popular parenting platform Big Little Feelings — moms and real-life best friends Kristin Gallant, a parenting coach with a background in maternal and child education, and Deena Margolin, a child therapist specializing in interpersonal neurobiology — are back with more parenting wisdom in Yahoo's new column called , a companion to their podcast, After Bedtime With Big Little Feelings. In the second episode of their show, Gallant and Margolin dive into toddler tantrums — those challenging (and, let's be honest, mortifying) moments that can really test your patience and leave you feeling frustrated and judged by everyone around you. Here, Gallant shares five tips on how to calmly navigate a tantrum. It always seems to happen at the worst possible time. You're at Target. Or at the park. Or boarding a plane. And just as you're trying to get out the door, check out with your cart full of stuff or line up at the gate, you feel it coming. The whining and the screaming, followed by the full-body flop to the ground. Your toddler is officially having a moment. And you're officially dying inside. For me, that's the moment the shame voice kicks in: You're doing it wrong. No one else's kid acts like this. Look around — everyone's staring. They're judging you. Good moms don't have kids who scream in public. That voice? It's a liar. Here's what's actually true: Your child's tantrum is not a reflection of your failure. It's a reflection of their developing brain doing exactly what it's wired to do. Let's break that down, along with tips on how to handle a toddler meltdown. Toddlers live in what's called the 'emotional brain,' aka the limbic system. The rational, logical part of the brain that helps regulate big feelings (the prefrontal cortex) is still in development. Like, years away from being online. That means toddlers physically cannot handle overwhelming emotions in a calm, measured way because the part of the brain that would help them do that isn't built yet. So when your child loses it over a broken granola bar or the wrong color cup, it's not them being 'bad.' It's their brain being immature and developing exactly on track. You're not just dealing with a dysregulated kid, you're also dealing with every set of eyes in the grocery store or at the playground on you. The shame. The heat on your face. The desperate urge to make it stop. Let me say this as clearly as possible: You are not a bad parent because your child is struggling. You are not a failure because your child is having a hard time in public. It's actually the most human parenting moment there is. Here's a quick survival-mode guide to get through it: Regulate yourself first: Your child's brain is on fire. If yours catches fire too, it's just two brains in a blaze. Instead, take a deep breath. Literally. Ground yourself in the moment. You're not in danger, you're just in aisle 7. Forget the audience: The people staring? They've either a) never had a toddler or b) have had one and have just forgotten. Your job is not to manage their discomfort, it's to support your child through theirs. Get low and stay calm: Kneel down to your child's level. Speak softly. Your calm is contagious, even if it takes time for it to spread. Skip the lecture: This isn't a teachable moment; it's a survival one. Let the storm pass. You can talk later when everyone has calmed down and is back in their body. Have a go-to phrase: Something like: 'You're having a hard time. I'm right here with you.' It grounds both of you in connection, and that's what helps tantrums pass faster. Public tantrums feel like the worst moment of parenting. But they're actually one of the most important ones. Because when we stay present, calm and connected, even in the chaos, we teach our kids that big feelings aren't dangerous and that they're not alone in their hardest moments. And that their emotions are safe with us. That's not a parenting failure. That's parenting at its finest.
Yahoo
05-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Your kid's temper tantrum doesn't mean you're failing as a parent: How I stay calm and connected in the chaos.
The founders of the popular parenting platform Big Little Feelings — moms and real-life best friends Kristin Gallant, a parenting coach with a background in maternal and child education, and Deena Margolin, a child therapist specializing in interpersonal neurobiology — are back with more parenting wisdom in Yahoo's new column called , a companion to their podcast, After Bedtime With Big Little Feelings. In the second episode of their show, Gallant and Margolin dive into toddler tantrums — those challenging (and, let's be honest, mortifying) moments that can really test your patience and leave you feeling frustrated and judged by everyone around you. Here, Gallant shares five tips on how to calmly navigate a tantrum. It always seems to happen at the worst possible time. You're at Target. Or at the park. Or boarding a plane. And just as you're trying to get out the door, check out with your cart full of stuff or line up at the gate, you feel it coming. The whining and the screaming, followed by the full-body flop to the ground. Your toddler is officially having a moment. And you're officially dying inside. For me, that's the moment the shame voice kicks in: You're doing it wrong. No one else's kid acts like this. Look around — everyone's staring. They're judging you. Good moms don't have kids who scream in public. That voice? It's a liar. Here's what's actually true: Your child's tantrum is not a reflection of your failure. It's a reflection of their developing brain doing exactly what it's wired to do. Let's break that down, along with tips on how to handle a toddler meltdown. Toddlers live in what's called the 'emotional brain,' aka the limbic system. The rational, logical part of the brain that helps regulate big feelings (the prefrontal cortex) is still in development. Like, years away from being online. That means toddlers physically cannot handle overwhelming emotions in a calm, measured way because the part of the brain that would help them do that isn't built yet. So when your child loses it over a broken granola bar or the wrong color cup, it's not them being 'bad.' It's their brain being immature and developing exactly on track. You're not just dealing with a dysregulated kid, you're also dealing with every set of eyes in the grocery store or at the playground on you. The shame. The heat on your face. The desperate urge to make it stop. Let me say this as clearly as possible: You are not a bad parent because your child is struggling. You are not a failure because your child is having a hard time in public. It's actually the most human parenting moment there is. Here's a quick survival-mode guide to get through it: Regulate yourself first: Your child's brain is on fire. If yours catches fire too, it's just two brains in a blaze. Instead, take a deep breath. Literally. Ground yourself in the moment. You're not in danger, you're just in aisle 7. Forget the audience: The people staring? They've either a) never had a toddler or b) have had one and have just forgotten. Your job is not to manage their discomfort, it's to support your child through theirs. Get low and stay calm: Kneel down to your child's level. Speak softly. Your calm is contagious, even if it takes time for it to spread. Skip the lecture: This isn't a teachable moment; it's a survival one. Let the storm pass. You can talk later when everyone has calmed down and is back in their body. Have a go-to phrase: Something like: 'You're having a hard time. I'm right here with you.' It grounds both of you in connection, and that's what helps tantrums pass faster. Public tantrums feel like the worst moment of parenting. But they're actually one of the most important ones. Because when we stay present, calm and connected, even in the chaos, we teach our kids that big feelings aren't dangerous and that they're not alone in their hardest moments. And that their emotions are safe with us. That's not a parenting failure. That's parenting at its finest.
