Latest news with #BigLittleFeelings
Yahoo
a day ago
- 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
a day ago
- 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.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
'After After Bedtime': The parenting experts behind Big Little Feelings are here to help
Deena Margolin and Kristin Gallant, the moms and toddler experts behind Big Little Feelings, will be sharing how to navigate modern parenting each week in the Yahoo column 'After After Bedtime.' (Yahoo News) For parents looking for answers as they try to navigate everything from potty training and sibling rivalry to the pressure to do everything perfectly, Big Little Feelings has been a lifesaver, offering practical advice while having 'ridiculously honest' conversations about the messiness of parenthood. It's an approach that has clearly resonated with many parents: Big Little Feelings, which also offers popular online parenting courses, boasts 3.5 million followers on Instagram. The moms and real-life best friends behind the parenting platform are Kristin Gallant, a parenting coach with a background in maternal and child education, and Deena Margolin, a child therapist specializing in interpersonal neurobiology. Together they blend their expertise with candor, humor and 'real talk' about what it's like raising kids. With their podcast, After Bedtime With Big Little Feelings, the duo dive into some big topics, like what happens to your marriage after kids and how to deal when your toddler's behavior triggers you. It's the real, messy, hilarious, sometimes hard parts of parenthood. And in After After Bedtime, a weekly companion column on Yahoo, they go even deeper, offering practical, expert-backed tips and real talk in their signature style: late-night group chat with your smartest, most supportive mom friends, the ones who keep it 100% real and remind you that you're doing way better than you think, vibes. Advertisement Keep scrolling to check out all of their articles, and be sure to come back every Wednesday for the latest post. Deena Margolin, one of the moms behind Big Little Feelings. For years, Margolin consulted doctor after doctor for help with chronic fatigue. Then as a 35-year-old pregnant mom to two toddler boys, she was diagnosed with autism. Bright lights, loud noises and restricting clothing — all of this was overwhelming her system, leading to meltdowns, shutdowns and burnout. 'Getting this diagnosis has helped me become more aware of what overstimulates me and what I need to avoid,' she wrote. Read on to find out how she's navigating neurodivergent parenting — from wearing sunglasses inside to wearing a uniform — and the lessons everyone can learn about self-acceptance.
29-05-2025
- Entertainment
Tips for introducing your newborn to your toddler
Parenting expert Ericka Souter shares strategies to ease sibling rivalry, following advice from the creators of "Big Little Feelings" on introducing your newborn to your toddler.
Yahoo
28-05-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
At 35, I was diagnosed with autism. Here are the 7 ways it's changed how I parent.
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 known for having 'ridiculously honest' conversations. And now they're bringing their wisdom to Yahoo in a new column called , a companion to their podcast, After Bedtime With Big Little Feelings. In the first episode of their show, Margolin reveals that she was diagnosed with autism level 1 at age 35, calling it 'one of the most healing experiences in my whole life.' Here, Margolin shares the accommodations she uses to navigate parenting while on the spectrum without becoming overwhelmed or burned out — and the lessons all parents can learn from putting their needs first. Before having kids, my life was extremely structured. I'd have the same breakfast every single day, take a 30-minute beach walk and meditate, prioritizing wellness and sticking to a checklist. I put routines in place to stave off burnout, meltdowns, shutdowns and fight extreme fatigue. But then I had kids and it all crumbled. For years, I consulted doctor after doctor for help and their responses would always be like, 'You're so young, you're so healthy, you work out, you shouldn't be so tired.' So why does my body hurt? Why am I having such a hard time just existing? And then just recently, as a 35-year-old pregnant mom to two toddler boys, I was diagnosed with autism. Bright lights, loud noises and restricting clothing — all of this was overwhelming my system. Getting this diagnosis has helped me become more aware of what overstimulates me and what I need to avoid. My nervous system burns out being around crowds and lots of background noise, so I've found ways to adjust. For example, we go to fun kid places — like pumpkin patches, children's museums, play gyms, the zoo, etc. — right when they open or at times I know are low-traffic. That way, the environment works better for me. I can stay more present, less overwhelmed and genuinely have more fun with my kids. Then we leave once it starts to get crowded or overwhelming. I'm still learning, but here are some other ways I'm navigating neurodivergent parenting. I set boundaries unapologetically around social interactions. My husband takes our kids to most birthday parties, as I know that will burn my nervous system out completely due to noise and constant small talk. I schedule playdates only at specific days, times and locations that I know will work better for my needs. I will also reschedule if I'm completely out of energy, and am so grateful to have mom friends (I really only have Kristin and two other mom friends!) who completely understand and aren't offended — just like I'm not offended if they need to reschedule because they don't have the energy. I'm actually honored that they feel so safe and comfortable with me to be honest and say, 'Hey, today I just don't have it in me; let's find another day soon.' I build in downtime to reset. While I absolutely love going on adventures with my kids, I build in time right after to reset. Sometimes that's by having a plan for my husband to take over at a certain time. Sometimes it's using my boys' downtime to nap. Other times we'll just snuggle up on the couch and watch a little TV together; I love those moments with them. I don't expect my house to be perfect. I've always had trouble putting dirty clothes in a hamper, folding laundry and putting clean laundry back on shelves. I know no one likes doing these tasks, but to me they feel painful and nearly impossible. A few systems that work for me are: (A) putting all our dirty clothes directly into the washing machine each day, (B) having my husband be in charge of folding and putting clean clothes in drawers (this task doesn't feel like torture to him!) and (C) 'body doubling' with my kids or husband, which means having another person there with you to clean the floors, load the dishes, deal with laundry and vacuum. Having an accountability partner can make it feel easier than trying to do it alone when you have difficulties with executive functioning. I carve out time for special interests. My special interests are farm animals, watching Formula 1 racing, researching well-being and child development, and working out. I now prioritize these more and intentionally carve out times to get into these activities. Doing these things makes me feel whole and alive and inspired and prevents autistic burnout. For a neurotypical person, doing less often fills their cup. But for a neurodivergent person, sometimes doing more — and doing their special interests specifically — is what fills their cup! I wear sunglasses inside. I struggle when there are big overhead lights and fluorescent lights, like the ones used in supermarkets, malls and department stores. So now I wear sunglasses to keep my nervous system more regulated and prevent burnout. It makes such a difference for my energy and bandwidth. Sometimes people make comments about it, but I am learning to be OK with that and put my needs ahead of the discomfort of it seeming 'odd' by social standards. I wear earplugs. I wear Loop Earplugs on outings, like at a sports event, a kids' play space, during loud car moments or times at home when my kids are crying or excited and being loud. I pop them in and I can still hear; they just dampen the volume level, which feels like a warm, cozy hug for my nervous system. I can help my kids through their big feelings better when I stay regulated. I can join in on their excitement more when I don't feel completely overwhelmed by the volume level. I wear a uniform. I wear the same few clothes that are comfortable, usually all black, really soft with no tags or seams, and it helps me stay regulated. I love my uniform and just rock it now without any shame! There was a lot of yelling in my childhood home. This is not a pattern I want to repeat with my own kids. All parents have hard moments, hit their breaking point, yell and lose their s*** sometimes — that's just part of being human, and in those moments we pause, reset and then repair with our kids. My goal is for yelling not to be a go-to punishment, discipline strategy or daily occurrence. I'm learning to have more self-awareness around my sensory sensitivities and when overwhelmed, taking a moment to pause and name what I'm feeling. In practice, that conversation may be like: 'Hey boys, my body is getting overloaded with the noise and this type of play, so I'm putting my earplugs in and am taking a moment to reset. I'll be right over here if you need me.' It's usually not said in a super calm, angelic way — it's real, I sound a little tense because I'm starting to feel a little tense and overwhelmed. But learning to embrace my sensitivities and work with them, rather than try to just white-knuckle through it, helps me yell less, and I am grateful for this journey. I think the core lesson is total self-acceptance and a reframe on healing. What if healing isn't about fixing yourself? What if the wound was never that you were broken, but that you were made to believe you had to become someone else to be loved? We're sold the idea that healing means grinding through a never-ending self-improvement checklist: Do more; feel less; be better. But what if the most radical healing isn't becoming someone new, it's remembering who you were before the world told you to shrink? Maybe healing looks like ... listening to the overwhelm instead of trying to just power through. Embracing the parts that are different, that feel most at peace when not following certain social norms and letting that just be OK. Creating a life that fits your nervous system, not one that pleases everyone else. This isn't about becoming your highest self, it's about finally coming home to yourself. Just maybe, that's the real revolution: not becoming more, but finally believing you were always enough.
