Making up stories for your child might sound like something that requires creativity, imagination, and a lot of time.

Over the years, I’ve heard the same concerns:

I’m not creative enough.
I don’t have time for this.
What if my story is just… really bad?

Fair enough. I’ve had all three myself.

So let’s look at what I’ve learned from years of telling stories and from talking to other parents about their experiences.

1️⃣ I’m not creative. I don’t have enough imagination to invent a story

Creativity doesn’t come naturally to everyone.

Maybe there are individual differences. Maybe some of us were trained out of it.

But here’s what I know:

The more you practice something, the more possibilities you can imagine.

An Uber driver can think of more ways to get somewhere than I can. A chef will see dozens of ways to adapt a recipe that I would never think of.

Creativity isn’t only about inventing something new. It’s also about adding, adapting, and improving what already exists.

Storytelling is no different.

It’s easier to start creating stories when you have concrete steps to follow.

I have two ways you can do it:

▸ The 10-Day Storytelling Challenge builds the skill one step at a time—from reading, to telling, to adapting, and finally creating your own story.

▸ The Story Bridge Method gives you a four-step framework for creating a story that takes your child from Point A to Point B.

Follow either path, and you’ll have a story.

2️⃣ I don’t have time to do one more thing

Your stories don’t need to be long or complicated.

A young giraffe spills his milk, then takes the initiative to clean it up. Throw in a few sounds and expressions, and you have a story.

Of course, even a short story takes some time and energy.

For me, it was worth it. When I discovered that storytelling made my son eager to go to bed, I gladly traded the time we spent fighting for time sitting close together, enjoying each other and the story worlds we created.

Share

3️⃣ How can I possibly find ideas to do this every night?

When I tell people I’ve made up more than 1,500 stories for my son, they imagine that coming up with so many ideas must be a herculean task.

Trust me, it isn’t.

I built that repertoire one small episode at a time.

▸ My first characters came from a series of books by Eugene Trivizas. Loukoulos was a small white elephant who escaped from a zoo with his friends.

▸ I imagined them going to Africa and living their best life. I described a scene with wild animals gathering at a waterhole I had seen in Tanzania.

▸ One day, I saw an elephant statue at our local mall and thought, “Oh, Loukoulos flew to Brazil…”

How did he fly, you ask?

On the back of a dragon, of course. Isn’t that what we all do?

▸ Between the local events Loukoulos was invited to and the plaque he received from the owner of the mall, he had enough adventures to keep us going for days. I even had him visit my son’s school and cause a huge commotion.

I could tell you more, but I think you get the point.

The stories kept going. And they were just for fun. I wasn’t trying to teach anything or solve a problem.

When you need an idea:

✨ Ask your child what happens next.
✨ Use something from your child’s life.
✨ Borrow a detail from another story and add it in.
✨ Start with a story you already know and keep it going.

You only need one idea for tonight. Everything else is for another day.

4️⃣ My stories are really boring. Why tell a boring story when there are so many great children’s books?

I used to feel bad about my crude, improvised stories because I compared them to storybooks.

In a published book, every detail has been reviewed, edited, and polished repeatedly by a team of professionals.

I love books because they expose children to beautiful art, rich language, and new vocabulary, and nurture a lifelong love of learning.

An oral story you make up for your child is immediate, flexible, and personal. There’s no page between you. You can see your child’s reactions and change the story as you go. You connect and have fun.

These are two completely different experiences.

Why choose one when you can have both?

And here’s something else I learned:

You may still think it’s not a very good one.

I know the feeling. Every time I write a story, I think the language (and sometimes even the plot) is terrible at first. I only start to like it after a few rounds of editing.

With oral stories, there is no second draft. You tell them as they come: improvised and simple.

That’s their beauty.

5️⃣ Why focus on problems, especially at bedtime?

I love this question.

When I started telling stories every night, I wasn’t trying to teach anything. I was trying to solve one immediate problem: getting my son to bed.

After a while, I noticed that my values and the things I wanted him to learn were naturally finding their way into the stories.

For example, I once told him about a little dragon who couldn’t control his fire and kept starting fires. I just wanted to make my son laugh, and it worked.

Over the next few days, Porfirius the dragon gradually learned to control his fire. Although it wasn’t intentional, I had introduced the idea that developing a skill takes practice, and that mistakes are a normal part of growing.

Whenever you talk to your child, your values and beliefs about life naturally come through. The same thing happens when you tell stories.

The four steps of the Story Bridge Method don’t have to be used for a problem.

🔴 Point A might be a normal day for your characters.
🟢 Point B might be an exciting new place they want to visit.

And the bridge can be completely ridiculous. How about a cloud wearing sunglasses that suddenly floats down and asks, “Want a ride to the moon?”


Rather than making storytelling about:

“Tonight, we’re going to work on your behavior.”

Make it something more like:

“Tonight, let’s have an adventure.”

Or even easier:

“What do you think happened to Fred the Frog after he fell into the muddy lake?”

Humor, voices, playfulness, and fun are what make storytelling engaging and memorable.

Creating an intentional story around a specific challenge is just one technique you can use when you’re ready.

Today, choose one:

• Easiest: Read a story you like, or one of my stories. Then close the page and ask your child, “What happens next?” Use your child’s idea to continue the story you just read.

• A little more: Start The 10-Day Storytelling Challenge and follow along each day.

• Ready to try the Story Bridge Method? Go to the post and use the 4 steps to create a story.

Have you ever made up a story for your child? Tell me about it. What worked, what didn’t, or what surprised you?

I’d love to hear your experience in the comments.

About the paid tier

In the paid tier, I’ll show you how to apply the Story Bridge Method to specific challenges such as anger, fear, and jealousy.

Each Storytelling Tool will help you:

• identify a specific situation to address within this topic

• choose a useful destination

• turn that challenge into a story

• continue using the story as new challenges appear

I’ll also include prompts, templates, and examples to make everything easier.

You can follow The 10-Day Storytelling Challenge through the series of posts.

When you subscribe, you’ll also get the printable Workbook and Storybook, so you can follow along without going through the posts or printing everything separately.

When you don’t have an idea, borrow one.

Read stories in the Feathernest Woods and Silverbrook Valley collections that I publish here on Substack.

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

The posts in the Anger Series explore different moments in time:

• How to respond when your child is angry

• What to do after everyone has calmed down

• How to make anger less likely or less intense over time
  
  
  

You can create stories that support your child at any of these stages. Each story becomes a bridge between:

🔴 Point A: the specific challenge your child is facing today

🟢 Point B: the positive step forward you want them to explore.

In this storytelling tool, I’ll give you prompts, examples, and step-by-step guidance to help you choose one specific challenge and turn it into a story using the Story Bridge Method.

Anger is a broad starting point. Your story will be easier to create if you choose one specific situation to explore.

You might want to create a story about...

What happens when your child gets angry

• What does your child do?

• What makes the anger grow?

• Is there a pattern that keeps showing up?

• What happens when your child is hungry, tired, over- or under-stimulated?
  
  

What might be underneath the anger

• Feelings like fear, jealousy, shame, loneliness, or feeling left out?

• A skill your child hasn’t learned yet?

• A situation they don’t know how to handle?

Read more

I first got into storytelling because it was an easy way to get my son to bed.

But after a while, I realized that I could also use the stories to support him through his challenges.

When you make up a personalized story for your child, they recognize their specific problem and are immediately drawn in.

But because the story revolves around a character rather than themselves, it creates a small emotional distance. That helps them explore alternatives without pressure.

After a few weeks of creating stories consistently, I noticed I was following the same four-step framework again and again.

I named it the Story Bridge Method because every story creates a bridge between:

🔴 Point A: the challenge my child is facing today and

🟢 Point B: the positive step forward I want them to explore.

Share

Let’s see how you could use the Story Bridge method to create a story that helps your child understand a difficult situation and explore a different way forward.

The more specific and concrete the challenge, the easier it will be to come up with a story and for your child to recognize what the story is about.

Imagine your child feels left out and wants to join a group.

But instead of asking to play, they interrupt or behave in a way that pushes the other children away.

You don’t need to imagine your child completely overcoming the challenge.

Sometimes Point B is only a small step forward: seeing the problem differently, understanding a feeling, or trying something new.

What would help your child understand what they wanted and develop more appropriate ways to get it?

You want your child to understand that trying to get the other children’s attention by being loud and interrupting their play actually pushed them further away.

So, in your story, you want to show that asking to join in gives them a better chance of getting what they really want: to play with the other children.

For some people, coming up with a story is easy. For others, it takes effort.

The most important thing to remember is that your child doesn’t need an award-winning, best-selling story from you. They want your attention and connection.

I promise that if you do it a few times, it will get easier. Like any other skill, storytelling takes a little boldness to start and a little practice to become easier.

Let’s choose our main character: a small bee called ZeeZee.

Now let’s create a story that goes like this:

ZeeZee sees the other children playing and feels left out
→ She wants to join them but doesn’t say so
→ Instead, she buzzes loudly around their game to get their attention
→ The children think she is trying to bother them and move away
→ ZeeZee feels even more upset and angry
→ Another character encourages the children to consider that there might be another reason for ZeeZee’s behavior
→ They talk to ZeeZee and discover she simply wanted to play
→ Everyone realizes there was a misunderstanding and starts over

If you’d like to see how this plot becomes a story, read ZeeZee the Bee Who Buzzed Too Loud and see the framework in action.

Some challenges will be resolved quickly while others may take longer. When you build on a story you have already told, you have an easy way to explore different aspects as they emerge.

▸ You can draw the characters, talk about the story, play it out with stuffed animals, or do anything else you and your child can think of. This allows you to revisit important topics without making them repetitive or turning them into a lecture.

▸ Have fun with the stories. I used to pretend I was ZeeZee the Bee and laugh with my son.

▸ Or you could create a follow-up story where ZeeZee gets frustrated when people tell her she is too loud. Then use the same framework, starting from Step 1, to build a story around this new challenge.

➡️ This is the structure of the Story Bridge Method, and you can start applying it today.

You’ll see this framework behind the Feathernest Woods and Silverbrook Valley stories I publish here on Substack.

If you’d like more guidance, examples, and prompts to create stories for specific parenting challenges, like fear, sleep, jealousy, I’d love to see you inside the paid tier.

About the paid tier

In the paid tier, I’ll show you how to apply the Story Bridge Method to specific challenges, like anger, fear, and sleep.

Each Storytelling Tool will help you:

• identify a specific situation to address within this topic

• choose a useful destination

• turn that challenge into a story

• continue using the story as new challenges appear

I’ll also include prompts, templates, and examples to make the process easier.

If creating a story from scratch still feels intimidating, I created a 10-Day Storytelling Challenge to help you build the skill step by step.

You’ll start by reading a story, then retelling it in your own words, adding small details, and finally creating a simple story of your own.

Each day builds on the previous one, gradually strengthening your storytelling muscle.

You can follow the challenge through the series of posts.

When you subscribe, you’ll also get the printable Workbook and Storybook, so you can follow the challenge without going through the posts or printing everything separately.

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

Storytelling is one of my favorite ways to help children

• understand their fears,

• see situations differently

• and open up to solutions and courageous action.

When we create a story that reflects a child’s specific fear, they can recognize themselves in the situation. But because the story is about another character—not them—it gives them enough emotional distance to relax and explore new ideas.

Storytelling won’t necessarily create an immediate change, although sometimes it can. But it helps your child open up and see new possibilities.

In this post, I’ll give you a step-by-step process for creating a personalized story to help your child understand and move through one specific fear.

Your answers to the following questions will naturally come together to create a story with a beginning, middle, and end.

Read more

◊ DEBBIE

Why do I like sewing so much?

A while back, Smita and I had an interesting conversation in the comments about sewing. As we talked, I was wondering why it always felt so important to me.

I first fell in love with sewing when I was nine.

My mother had just bought a sewing machine and started making clothes for herself. I was fascinated by every aspect of her new obsession. How a long piece of fabric gradually became a beautiful piece of clothing. How the thread wound its way through the different parts of the machine before reaching the needle.

Eventually, my mother lost interest, and the sewing machine was put into storage, never to be taken out again.

For years, I put every desire to sew aside. The idea of sewing still made my heart beat a little faster, but I never asked for that old machine or thought of buying one myself. I was certainly earning enough to afford one.

Yet, it never crossed my mind.

Until 2015.

As I was preparing to leave Greece and move to Brazil, I sold a property. Holding the check in my hands, I decided it was finally time to buy myself a sewing machine.

When I brought it home, I was afraid I wouldn’t remember how to thread it. To my surprise, the muscle memory was still there. I threaded it with ease and confidence.

I asked my mother to come with me to buy fabric, picked up a Burda magazine, and started cutting.

Sewing is a way to create the things I can’t find.

During a winter trip to Poland, I wanted to keep my son warm in his stroller. There were sleeping bag-style covers for babies, but he had already outgrown them.

So I designed and sewed one myself.

I had never seen anything like it, and I felt proud that I had created something so unique. It worked exactly as intended.

I couldn’t find a photo of the stroller cover, so I asked AI to get inside my head and draw what I remembered. It came surprisingly close.

Last year, I grew frustrated with my living room. It felt empty, but decorating was always a project “for another day.”

Then I had the idea to make the decorative items myself.

I took out every scrap of fabric I had, made a few combinations, and with a little sewing and hand embroidery, I made my living room warm and inviting.

A little collection of other things I’ve made over the years.

I love browsing Pinterest, collecting ideas, and designing things that are both beautiful and useful. The fact that I get to use them every day makes creating them even more satisfying.

Some people have suggested I could sell some of my creations. But sewing relaxes me because there is no pressure.

Sometimes I turn my home office into a sewing room and spend days moving from one project to the next. I may even choose a new skill to practice and pick projects with that in mind.

But I never expect myself to stay committed. Sewing is only an option whenever I feel like it.

◊ SMITA

What jumps out to me is the striking similarities in Debbie and my experiences. I grew up a continent away, in India, and moved a continent away, to North America.

My mom sewed beautiful clothes. Money was tight while I was growing up. To get stylish clothes, I would invariably beg my mom to stitch the latest fashions for me. Luckily she was an extremely talented seamstress, something that I never picked up.

I grew up as a self proclaimed tom boy, a title that I have long abandoned! But unfortunately, that tag may have prevented me from learning the art of sewing from my mother. Even now if I want to alter something, she tries to tell me what to do and it sounds like Greek and Latin to me. The look on her face when she has instructed me only to see it bounce over my head is priceless.

So what am I doing writing an article on sewing?

Fortunately, what my mom was unable to teach me, my daughters did. They took up sewing, and got me hooked onto it. In the US I bought a Brother sewing machine and used it for various projects over the years.

Share

When Debbie suggested we write an article on sewing, I jumped on it, although I am nowhere close to her in the level of projects that I attempt.

When my girls took up sewing, I enthusiastically went along, sewing fleece stuffies. Soon, my projects became more practical. We were into camping, and my husband converted many buses into campers. I made custom mattress covers and thick curtains for our campers. We took a five month camping trip back in 2019, and I made custom box covers for all our storage, color coded so that we could easily identify what they held.

Then, of course, were the Halloween costumes. For many of their growing years, we went all out sewing costumes. My best was the dragon, Toothless, from the movie, “How to train your dragon.” Another super challenging project was making butterfly wings out of tulle. That was stressful!

Living in central Pennsylvania, quilts were a natural attraction. I made a small hand sewn quilt. This was a triple layered quilt that I entirely hand sewed. I still can’t believe I did a project like that! Hopefully someday I will make another such quilt.

◊ DEBBIE

So why do I like sewing?

Sewing allows me to make creative, beautiful, practical things, and that feels good.

But I don’t think that’s the whole answer.

As a child, everyone told me I was like my father. We happily bonded over math, science, and logic, and that became a big part of my identity.

But there was another part of me that loved creating with my hands. Over the years, I watched my mother sew, paint, write, and make pottery. I was fascinated by all of it.

Yet we rarely did those things together. Somehow, I got the message that they weren’t worth pursuing. That math and science were more important.

Today, I have a closet full of sewing, embroidery, drawing, and painting supplies.

No pottery though. At least not yet.

◊ SMITA

I am so amazed at what Debbie wrote, since this experience is also exactly like mine. I was a daddy’s girl, and sewing was always deemed less important than math and science. As an adult, I don’t believe this to be true. Math and science have their place and sewing has its place in the grand scheme of things. Sewing is a very hands on and a highly fulfilling activity. When I see, hold, or smell new fabric, it has a grounding effect on me. The idea of creating something with my hands is immensely appealing.

In the Anger Series, I’ve looked at three different moments when supporting a child through anger:

🔴 During the outburst → helping your child calm down
🔴 Afterward → addressing the deeper problem underneath the anger
🔴 Over time → creating conditions that help children develop anger-management skills

Each of these moments requires a different response.

In this post, I bring these ideas together into the Anger Response Tool, a three-step framework to help you decide what to do when your child is angry.

You’ll also get a Visual Guide you can print and keep somewhere visible until the three steps become second nature.

▸ If YES → Take care of the urgent problem first

Read more

So far in this anger series, we’ve covered what to do when your child is angry and how to uncover and address the root cause behind it.

In this post, we’ll look at how to create an environment that makes it easier for your child to develop healthy anger management skills.

Connection, attention, and presence

As parents, we spend much of our day working to provide for our children, driving them around, cooking, cleaning, and often putting our own needs aside.

We know this is love.

But children mostly feel our love when we are present and paying attention.

When I look back at older videos of my son, I can see this clearly. He would light up when I let him talk freely, explaining every little detail of how and why he made something.

In those moments, he felt cherished and respected.

Afterwards, he was usually quick to follow my instructions, even in situations where he would normally have resisted. His cup was full.

He felt connected to me and was willing to cooperate because he wanted to make me happy.

Share

Of course, we can’t be fully present all the time, and we don’t have to be.

You only need to create small pockets of time when you put everything else aside and give your child your full attention.

You can start with a simple ritual of connection: ten minutes of one-on-one time each day. Let your child choose the activity and follow their lead.

It’s a simple but powerful way to show that whatever is important to your child, is important to you.

Appropriate autonomy and feeling in control

All human beings, no matter their age, want some control over how they live their lives.

That applies even to babies who feel powerless to move their bodies.

I remember my son getting extremely angry during diaper changes.

At first, I couldn’t understand his resistance. It took me a while to see that he didn’t like how I was handling the situation. To me, it was a boring, repetitive task I just wanted to get out of the way.

If I had taken the time to let him participate instead of treating him like an inanimate object, I’m pretty sure things would have been different.

There are always age-appropriate decisions we can allow children to make.

Even something as simple as two pre-approved options helps children develop decision-making skills while giving them some control over their lives.

Sometimes, we feel the urge to override their choices.

Last year, my son and I kept disagreeing about his hair. He likes to cover his forehead completely, while I don’t think it looks as good as he thinks it does. I kept asking for a chance to show him a different hairstyle, and he kept saying no.

In the end, I had to — begrudgingly — admit that this wasn’t my decision to make.

We can also give children age-appropriate control over how they spend their time. School and other structured activities are important.

But so is free time they can use as they see fit.

What we model

When I was a child, the adults around me expected me to handle my anger better than my father did. They called that “respecting my elders.”

I used to believe that the person who was allowed to display raw, aggressive anger was the one in control. Although I could see firsthand how destructive that behavior was, I still equated it with strength.

Now I know that true strength means handling anger in a mature, constructive, and respectful way.

Anger shows us there’s a problem. We take the message and work to resolve it.

This is what I want to model for my son through my own life and actions.

We aren’t trying to engineer a childhood without anger.

Disappointment, anger, and frustration will always be part of life.

Some parents argue that harsh discipline prepares children for this reality.

I agree that children need to be prepared for frustration and anger. But I believe we prepare them by coaching them to build the skills they need, not by creating more anger for them to deal with.

Life already provides plenty of opportunities to practice. We don’t need to add unnecessary challenges through disconnection, excessive control, shame, or power struggles.

A peaceful and respectful environment makes children more likely to listen to our guidance and develop these skills.

It’s like learning to drive. We start on a quiet street and move to busier roads as we gain the skills and experience to handle them.

Playing the long game

How many times do we need to support our children through anger?

Too many.

How to support children through anger:

• How to De-Escalate Your Child’s Anger Without Giving In

• What to Do After Your Child Calms Down

Children’s stories related to anger:

• ZeeZee the Bee Who Buzzed Too Loud

• Jojo and the Missing Dock

Dealing with our own anger:

• Three Unhealthy Ways We Respond to Anger (Premium framework here)

• Three Healthy Ways We Respond to Anger

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

In Silverbrook School, before graduating, each class buries a treasure capsule somewhere in the valley.

Inside the capsule, they place small treasures for the next class to discover. Then they draw a treasure map and choose a younger student to be the Keeper of the Map.

Last year, the graduating class chose Jojo.

“Congratulations, Jojo,” Mr. Adler said, handing him the rolled-up map.

“We’re trusting you to keep it safe until treasure hunt day.”

Jojo held the map carefully in his hands.

He felt tall inside.

“I’ll keep it safe,” he promised.

At first, Jojo kept the map on his desk where he could see it.

But then he worried something might spill on it, so he tucked it safely inside a drawer.

Every now and then, he took it out to admire the little drawings along the path.

He imagined walking through Silverbrook Valley, finding the place marked with an X, and digging up the treasure.

Then he would carefully put the map away again, waiting for the big day.

At last, the big day arrived.

At school, the class buzzed with excitement.

After school, they would grab their snacks and digging tools, tuck them into their backpacks, and set off to search for the treasure.

Share

When school was finally over, Jojo ran home to get ready.
This was the day he had been waiting for.
The day he would finally fulfil his role as Keeper of the Map.

Jojo opened the top drawer of his desk and reached inside.

The map wasn’t there.

He pulled out the drawer and emptied everything onto the floor. Nothing. One by one, he checked the other drawers. Still nothing.

Jojo felt his chest grow tight.
“I always lose things,” he muttered.
“What am I going to tell everyone?”

After a while, Jojo went looking for Livy and Fifi.

He found them sitting by the river at their usual meeting place.

“I can’t find the map,” he said.
“I was supposed to keep it safe.”

Fifi looked at him.
“But you always kept it in your room.”

“I know,” Jojo said.
“I looked everywhere. It isn’t there.”

Livy stood up.
“Then let’s go and look together.”

They hurried to Jojo’s room.

“What happened here?” Livy asked.

The drawers and everything that had been inside them were scattered across the floor.

“The map was supposed to be in one of the drawers,” Jojo said.
“I emptied everything looking for it.”

Fifi slid the drawers back into the desk.
“Let’s put everything back first,” she said.
“It’ll be easier to see.”

They put everything back, but they didn’t find the map.

“Do you remember taking it anywhere else?” Livy asked.

Jojo sat down on the end of his bed and closed his eyes.

He remembered pretending to be a pirate and unrolling the map across his bedroom floor.

Then he hid it somewhere...
But where?

Jojo opened his eyes and sighed.
“I can’t remember.”

He buried his face in his hands.

“You can go and tell the class,” he said.
“I’m too embarrassed to face them. They’ll be so disappointed.”

Livy and Fifi sat beside him on the bed.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

“We’re not going without you,” Livy said.

Fifi nodded.
“We’ll face this together.”

“Even without the map, we can still look for the capsule. And if we need help, maybe someone from the older class will give us a few hints.”

Jojo took a long breath and stood up.

“You’re right,” he said.
“I was responsible for the map, and I need to tell everyone what happened. Then we’ll see how we can find the capsule.”

Jojo picked up his backpack and headed for the door.
Suddenly, he stopped.

He looked around his room, and his eyes grew wide.
“Wait...”
“When I was pretending to be a pirate...”
“I hid the map!”

He hurried to the side of his bed and reached between the mattress and the wall.

“Hurray!” Jojo shouted as he pulled out the map.
“I remember now!”
“I hid it behind my bed so nobody could steal my treasure.”

Jojo laughed and gave his forehead a gentle tap.
“How could I forget?”

He rolled up the map and slipped it into his backpack.
“Ready,” he said.

He looked at his friends.
“Thanks for helping me calm down enough to remember.”

They ran to meet their classmates, who were waiting by the path.

“Let the treasure hunt begin!” Jojo said.

Together, they set off into Silverbrook Valley.
Jojo held the map while Livy walked beside him, checking the drawings.
Fifi skipped ahead, looking for landmarks.

“Count ten steps from the bridge,” Livy read.

They counted together.
“One... two... three...”

When they reached ten, Jojo stopped.
The map showed a tall tree with a bend in its trunk.

Fifi pointed.
“There!”

“Now five steps toward the big rock,” Jojo said.

They counted again.

Jojo looked at the map one last time.
“There’s the X,” he said.

They took turns digging.

Suddenly—
Thunk.

They found something peeking through the soil.
It was the treasure capsule.

Back in the classroom, they opened the capsule together.

Fifi reached in first and pulled out a rolled piece of paper tied with a blue string.
“It’s a drawing of the school playground,” she said.

Livy lifted a smooth stone with a tiny star painted on it.
“For good luck on hard days,” she read.

Jojo picked up a small wooden token carved with the year.

Every treasure had a story to tell.
Some had kind words and encouragement.
Others were silly and fun.

Jojo smiled.
“I wonder what we’ll leave for next year’s class,” he said.

Everyone started sharing ideas at once.
The next treasure hunt had already begun.

The End

This story is part of the Silverbrook Valley collection
For younger children, explore the Feathernest Woods collection

Browse all stories, articles, and resources

Share Connection Bridge Parenting

Last Sunday, I published a Note about a new series I’m creating.

The series is called The Sunday Connection.

My intention behind this series is to celebrate some of the wonderful creators who have subscribed to Connection Bridge Parenting.

I’m grateful for your support, the conversations we’re having here, and the thoughtful work so many of you are creating around parenting and family life.

The Note announcing the series became my most successful Note since I started publishing on Substack.

It made me think.

Notes move quickly. A creator I introduce today will get lost in the feed tomorrow.

So I decided The Sunday Connection needed a permanent home, too.

Here’s what I plan to do

Every Sunday, I’ll choose one of my subscribers whose publication I genuinely enjoy reading.

I’ll share a little about the creator, what I appreciate about their work, and one of my favorite posts from their publication.

I started last week with , because she was the person who inspired this idea. She regularly highlights and supports other creators, and seeing her do that made me want to follow her example.

Each creator will first appear in a Sunday Note.

Then I’ll add a link to that Note to a permanent post so you can always come back and see all the creators I’ve recommended.

And, like everything else I publish on Connection Bridge Parenting, this page will be linked from my Start Here page

Here’s how we can all grow together

If you see a creator whose work speaks to you, visit their publication.

Read their work. Support them.

And if you enjoy the Sunday Note, restack it so someone else can discover them, too.

Let’s make this community stronger!

Welcome to The Sunday Connection.

And to everyone who’s new here, welcome to Connection Bridge Parenting. 🧡

Here’s the first Note in case you missed it:

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

Every Sunday, I highlight a subscriber whose publication I enjoy, sharing what I appreciate about their work and one of my favorite posts.

Some of these creators focus directly on raising children, others on storytelling for children, while others explore the many things that affect how we parent, our homes, relationships, and everyday family life.

If someone’s work speaks to you, visit their publication, support their work, and restack their Sunday Connection so others can discover them, too.

Let’s grow together.

#1

Sheeba writes about motherhood, personal growth, and the kind of spirituality that grows alongside raising three children. Why I’m featuring Sheeba▸

Our collaborations

• Banno and The Big Blue River

  ---

#2

Ann writes for parents who want to organize their homes alongside their children, without turning it into a power struggle. Why I’m featuring Ann ▸

Our collaborations

• Building Connections Through Storytelling (a podcast episode)

• Livy and the Dress That Needed Space

• Sissy the Cat and the Wiggle-Wiggle Tidy

  ---

#3

On Life Unscripted | Motherhood version, Bruna writes about motherhood and family with honesty, warmth, and refreshing vulnerability. Why I’m featuring Bruna ▸

#4

In The (Whole) Child, Amy makes developmental science approachable, practical, and easy to apply. Why I’m featuring Amy ▸

Our collaborations

• The Jealousy Loop: Why Your Child Wants Everything Their Sibling Has

• The Good Student Nobody Worried About

#4

Lara is an early childhood educator who helps parents understand themselves and their children, so they can find what works for their family. Why I’m featuring Lara ▸

Our collaborations

• Moments of Storytelling We Don’t Recognise

• Dear Child, Life Wants You to Succeed

#5 | Finding Her Again

Logan writes about motherhood, identity, and the parts of ourselves that we bury along the way. Her writing is honest, personal, and very relatable. Why I’m featuring Logan ▸

#6 | The Whimsical Elf

Smita’s weekly activity worksheets for children turn simple subjects —fish, dogs, wolves, ciphers, and more into little invitations to wonder, solve, draw, and create. Why I’m featuring Smita ▸

Our collaboration

• How We Fell in Love With Sewing

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

For me, storytelling has always been a way to connect with my son.

It brought us closer, sparked his imagination, and made cooperation easier. I never imagined that the same tool I was using at home could have such a powerful place in the classroom.

Then I started talking with Lara in the comments.

She helped me realize that educators use storytelling every day to help children learn, think, and make sense of the world.

I knew we would all benefit from hearing that perspective.

So today, I’m delighted to hand things over to Lara.

— Debbie

◊ LARA

When Debbie invited me to collaborate on an article about storytelling through the educator’s lens, I was elated!

I love storytelling. It encompasses many, many forms of learning, and caters to all age groups. In fact, our entire lives are all mini-stories fragmented together, forming one big, unique story.

As an educator, there are so many things we could write about on this topic, and so many directions to explore. Should the article focus on theories? Strategies? Recommended activities?

After writing six versions of this post, a voice popped into my head.

“Write about process learning,” it says.

What is the link between process-learning and storytelling? Why is it easy to fall into the trap of outcome-learning when it comes to storytelling?

Let’s uncover them today.

What is storytelling?

Most people think storytelling is a quiet, wind-down activity.

“Library,” “Reading,” “Books”.

These words automatically shift us into a gear of soft, passive energy.

We find ourselves saying things like, “You can’t be focused on reading if you’re doing something else.”

It’s not entirely wrong. But that’s only one half of what storytelling actually is.

Share

The other half of storytelling:

When questions like these get asked, we fall into a trap, thinking that storytelling only counts when children are quiet and still.

From there, we may start trying to “fix” the restless child, like their behaviour is a problem, missing out on the learning benefits of storytelling.

But storytelling was never confined to quiet and stillness in the first place.

We tell stories all the time, in forms far beyond a book.

When a child refuses to keep their toy, trips over it after, and you explain the cause and consequence of the experience - that’s a story, without a book.

Watching someone do something allows a story to form in our head. A song, a made-up scene during pretend play - all of it is storytelling.

Storytelling as process-learning

When we reframe how we view storytelling, we are able to shape a process-learning experience instead.

We expand from the passive sit-down, read-together mode, into an active doing mode.

Here are 2 ways this might look in practice: Games & Creation.

Closing thoughts:

Storytelling is fun and creative, yet we tend to miss that because we learned to see it as serious and rigid instead.

Maybe the real work isn’t using storytelling as a teaching tool - it’s letting go of what it’s “supposed” to look like, and giving it room to become whatever it can be, one story at a time.

- Lara, The Parenting Tree

Read more from The Parenting Tree

➡️We missed his signal for 20 years.

Sometimes, the frustrating part of parenting lies in the unknown. Some signals get missed and some get solved - 20 years later.

➡️I used to think children needed special classes to become smarter.

Follow an educator’s journey of uncovering what children actually need to become smarter. It’s simpler than we think.

➡️The child you think you know.

Connection is one of the most important threads in every relationship, and it’s also the most fragile one. Why do we lose connection with our children as they grow older?

Fifi sat in her classroom, swinging her legs gently beneath her chair.

Mr. Adler smiled at the class.

“Tomorrow is Show and Tell,” he said.

“Bring something special you want to share with the class. I can’t wait to see what you choose.”

Fifi opened her little notebook. Inside were her favorite drawings.

She turned the pages slowly, wondering which one to share.

She imagined standing in front of the class.

What if I forget what to say?
What if I feel too shy?
What if tomorrow feels too big?

Fifi closed her notebook and tucked it into her bag.

The rest of the day passed quickly.

But every now and then, Fifi’s thoughts wandered back to tomorrow.

When bedtime came, they were still there.

Fifi climbed into bed.

Her sheets smelled of lavender, but her thoughts buzzed around like tiny fireflies.

What if I can’t speak?
What if I forget what I want to say?
What if everyone watches me too closely?

Fifi hugged her pillow. Her chest felt full of little what-ifs.

Share

Suddenly, a soft magical glow spread across the room.

As Fifi watched, a gentle figure stepped out of the light. His cloak drifted like blue clouds, and his voice was warm and calm.

“Who are you?” Fifi asked.

The gentle figure bowed his head.

“Children call me the Keeper of Tomorrow,” he said.

He lifted a small crystal box. As the lid slowly opened, warm golden light spilled into the room.

As Fifi watched, a small glowing bubble appeared above her head. Inside, shimmering in golden letters, were the words:

What if I forget what I want to say?

The bubble floated gently toward the open box and slipped inside. The golden light inside the box grew a little brighter.

At that very moment, Fifi felt something change. Her chest felt lighter, and she could breathe a little easier.

Then a second glowing bubble appeared. Inside were the words:

What if I feel too shy?

It floated gently toward the box and slipped inside. The golden glow grew brighter again.

Fifi’s eyes grew wide.

“Those are my thoughts,” she whispered.
“The ones that keep racing to tomorrow.”

The Keeper nodded.

“Your thoughts won’t disappear,” he said.
“They’re simply resting here for the night.”

Then a third glowing bubble appeared. Inside were the words:

What if tomorrow feels too big?

It floated toward the box...
paused...
and bounced back out with a soft boop!

Fifi giggled.
“It bounced back!”

The Keeper smiled.
“Some tomorrow thoughts aren’t quite ready for bed,” he said.

Fifi cupped her hands and blew gently toward the bubble. It gave a tiny wiggle, drifted back to the box, and slipped inside beside the others.

Fifi smiled.
“Now it’s resting too,” she said.

Suddenly, a few more glowing bubbles appeared above Fifi’s head and drifted toward the open box.

“They just keep coming!” she said.

The Keeper nodded.

“That’s what tomorrow thoughts do,” he said.
“You don’t have to make them stop. You only have to let them rest until morning.”

The last bubble floated into the box, and the Keeper gently closed the lid.

The golden glow softened, as if the box itself were getting ready for bed.

“Your thoughts are safe while you sleep,” he said.
“They’ll be waiting for you in the morning.”

Fifi settled deeper into her bed.

“Tonight is for resting,” the Keeper said.
“Tomorrow is for doing.”

The golden glow faded, and Fifi drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Fifi woke up feeling calm and steady.

When it was her turn for Show and Tell, she stood up holding her notebook.

For a moment, she forgot what she wanted to say. Then she looked down at her drawing.

The first words came. Then the next.

When Fifi sat down, she couldn’t stop smiling.

Show and Tell was over.

And it hadn’t been nearly as hard as it had seemed the night before.

The End

This story is part of the Silverbrook Valley collection
For younger children, explore the Feathernest Woods collection

More articles and stories about fear.

Browse all stories, articles, and resources

Share Connection Bridge Parenting

A while ago, Sinem and I began discussing adventure novels in the comments.

I told her how much Jules Verne’s novels had meant to me as a child.

Sinem asked a thoughtful question I hadn’t considered before:

How do I see those books now, as an adult?

Her question made me realize how much my perspective has changed.

As a child, I was captivated by the adventure and excitement. Today, I look beyond that initial impression and notice ideas I couldn’t see then.

We decided to explore that question together.

In this first post, we share our experiences with books as children.

In the next, we’ll talk about how we see those stories now, as adults.

—Debbie & Sinem

◊ DEBBIE

Why Jules Verne’s Books Meant So Much to Me

As a child, I read every Jules Verne book I could get my hands on.

There were many, and I read them more than once.

Through them, I discovered adventure, companionship, and a worldview vastly different from my everyday reality.

Innovation and science

I used to solve math problems just for fun.

It was a passion I shared with my father, and unfortunately, I never met anyone my age who felt the same way.

When I picked up The Adventures of Three Englishmen and Three Russians in South Africa, my father happily introduced me to the world of trigonometry and mapmaking. I was fascinated.

I’ve always loved solving problems.

My mind can’t let go of an unresolved situation. Whether it’s science, psychology, everyday life, or even video games, I need to understand how things work and find a satisfying solution.

In Jules Verne’s books, science and innovation felt exciting and adventurous, rather than academic.

And I couldn’t get enough of it.

Courage, loyalty, and integrity

The stories I read were full of courage, loyalty, and people living with honor, even under pressure.

In Around the World in Eighty Days, Phileas Fogg is in the middle of a race against time that could ruin him financially. Yet he stops his journey and risks losing everything to rescue Aouda before she is sacrificed against her will.

Around me, I would see people choosing convenience over integrity. They justified their choices by saying this is what they had to do to survive.

I connected with Jules Verne’s characters because they saw the world the way I did.

They were fictional, but I didn’t mind.

Share

Companionship and romance

As a child, I was lonely and bored, and reading was my only escape.

I felt as if I were walking beside Axel in Journey to the Center of the Earth. I admired the underground sea, the prehistoric creatures, and the giant mushrooms.

I could feel his fear when he got lost in the underground tunnel, alone in complete silence and darkness.

His desire to see his beloved Gretchen again became my desire too.

Through these characters, I experienced friendship, discovery, and romance.

They became my companions, and my world no longer felt so small.

Hope and providence

I was taught to see life as a struggle.

I felt the odds were stacked against me, and anything beyond what I could see with my human senses simply didn’t exist.

But Jules Verne’s stories left room for divine providence.

In Second Fatherland, the heroes find themselves in a desperate situation. They are outnumbered, running out of ammunition, and surrounded by hostile attackers.

Still, they keep fighting. Even in the face of almost certain defeat, they continue acting with courage and honor.

And at the last possible moment, help arrives.

As an adult, I know life doesn’t always unfold like an adventure novel.

But more often than not, I’ve seen things improve even in situations that seem hopeless.

I first encountered that idea in the books I loved as a child.

But now I’ve lived through enough experiences to trust it for myself.

◊ SINEM

The Same Stories, Another Door

As a child, I was not a “classic books” kid.

I was never really pulled in by them. In primary school, reading felt like a duty, not a door. There was even a book titled Cuore (Heart) by Edmondo De Amicis that adults tried to make me read.

And I simply didn’t.

My imagination was alive, but my door was visual.

I met many “classic” stories through cartoons and simplified adaptations, not through the original texts. I knew Around the World in Eighty Days and Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea as images, scenes, music, and movement.

I knew the names.
The adventures.
The atmosphere.

Even small details stayed with me more than the main story. For example, the Ninja Turtles being named after Renaissance artists felt more memorable to me than any “proper” heroic arc.

Then something shifted.

In fifth grade, someone gifted me a book. And for the first time, I read a story and actually wanted more.

Not every book.

Mostly series.

The kind that continues. The kind where the world stays open. The kind where you can return the next day.

A year later, I even received an award at school for reading the most books. But what I was really doing was staying inside long series.

I think I still have that pattern.

I enjoy films and series. I don’t naturally reach for long novels that end and disappear. I like stories that keep living.

And today, ironically, I read all the time.

It is part of my work. I am doing a PhD, so reading is not optional.

I read.

But I don’t always love the act of reading itself.

My mind still prefers the visual route. I am drawn to illustrated books, images, objects, and scenes.

Maybe this is why, years later, I can walk into a children’s theatre version of a classic story and feel pulled in so easily.

Same story.
Different form.
And suddenly, I could enter it.

Sinem Halli is an industrial designer and PhD candidate at Istanbul Technical University.

Her work focuses on toys, child differences, play styles, and the relationships children build with objects and stories.

She writes Designer.Researcher.Mother, where she reflects on everyday moments with her child through the lenses of motherhood, design, and research.

If you want to read more from Sinem Halli:

• The Hidden Design of Adventures

• The Gift From a Stranger

• The Hidden Resume of a Toy

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources on Connection Bridge Parenting here.

When I planned this series about emotions, I knew I wanted to include sibling jealousy and competition.

My son is an only child, and I didn’t want to write about an experience I haven’t lived through as a parent.

I wanted this part of the series to come from someone who could bring both professional expertise and lived experience to the conversation.

That’s why I invited Dr. Amy See, who writes The (Whole) Child, to contribute.

Amy brings two perspectives to this subject.

She is a developmental psychologist and learning support specialist, and she is also raising two sons.

— Debbie

And now, I’ll hand it over to Amy.

AMY

I have two boys.

And if there is one thing I have learned, it is this: the moment one child gets something, be it a new pair of shoes, a party favour from a classmate, even a slightly bigger scoop of ice cream, the other suddenly needs the exact same thing. Right now.

Last week, my younger son came home from school clutching a small plastic dinosaur. A child in his class had a birthday. There were party bags. He was beaming.

His older brother took one look at the dinosaur, and his face changed completely.

“Where’s mine?”

No hello. No “how was your day?” Just, where is mine?

Sound familiar? If you are raising siblings, you have lived this scene a hundred times. One balloon appears, and suddenly you are hunting for a second. One child comes home with a goodie bag, and the other acts like the world is ending. We buy one son new sneakers because he outgrew his old ones, and within minutes, his brother is convinced his own feet hurt.

As parents, our gut reaction is often frustration.

Why can’t they just be happy for each other?
Why do they always have to have what the other has?
Are they just being greedy?

But developmental psychology tells us a completely different story. When we pause and look beneath the surface of the “I want one too” behaviour, we find something much deeper, and much more tender, than a desire for a plastic dinosaur.

It Is Not About the Dinosaur

When a child sees their sibling receiving something, their brain does not just process the object. It processes the experience. To a child’s developing mind, an empty hand can feel like an empty heart.

Sibling jealousy is a complex social emotion triggered when a child perceives that their intimate relationship or connection with their parent is being threatened. When one child receives an item or special attention, the other child’s brain registers a sudden drop in their own security. Sibling jealousy is defined more precisely as the complex of thoughts, feelings, and behaviours that arise when one child’s close relationship with a parent is threatened by a sibling. At its core, it is about the parent-child bond, not the balloon.

In other words: the child reaching for the dinosaur is not being greedy.

They are checking.

Sibling jealousy is thought to be a natural reaction to the fear that a younger sibling might take the older child’s place, and researchers suggest this instinctive response could be there by nine months old.

This is not an overreaction. It is biology. And once we understand it, everything changes.

Share

The One Big Mistake Parents Make

When a meltdown happens, our instinct is often to make everything equal. If one child gets a balloon, we find a second balloon. If one gets new shoes, we buy a matching pair. We exhaust ourselves chasing a perfect mathematical fairness, thinking it will prevent conflict.

But here is the problem: life is not equal. And teaching our children that fairness always means “everyone gets the same thing” sets them up for disappointment — because classmates will get birthday presents they don’t, friends will have privileges they don’t, and their sibling will sometimes receive something they cannot have.

Siblings get on better when there is no favouritism from parents, but favouritism and difference are not the same thing. What children actually need is not equal treatment. It is fair treatment. And fair means: I see you, I hear your feelings, and I will meet your unique needs in a way that makes you feel safe and loved.

Research shows that when differential treatment is explained and perceived as fair, it is not associated with negative outcomes. The key is not to avoid differences, it is to talk about them.

Buying the second balloon is a temporary plaster. The real cure is connection.

A Step-By-Step Plan for the “Me Too!” Moments

Here is what I have started doing in my own home after some trial and error, and what the research supports. It takes practice. But over time, it changes the underlying dynamic.

Step 1: Validate the feeling before you do anything else.

When your child says, “Where’s mine?” resist the urge to problem-solve, explain, or offer a replacement. Respond to the feeling underneath the behaviour.

Get down to their level. Name what you see.

“You saw your brother get something and you wished you had one too. That makes sense.” “It’s hard to watch your brother get something new when you aren’t getting anything today.”

No fixing. No lecturing. Just acknowledgment.

When a child feels heard, their brain moves out of a threat response and becomes available again. That single step de-escalates more than most parents expect.

Step 2: Name what is really going on.

Once the feeling has been acknowledged, gently name the deeper thing.

“Sometimes when your brother gets something, it can feel like you are being left out. Like maybe it means something about you and me.”

This is the moment where many children’s faces change. Because you have seen them, not just the behaviour, but them.

Step 3: Separate the feeling from what it means.

Children need to hear, in plain language, that their place in the family is not under threat. Gently separate the object from their worth.

“Your brother needed shoes today because his feet grew. That doesn’t mean he is more special. You are just as important to me.”

This sounds simple. It is simple. And it works — because it answers the actual question they were asking.

Step 4: Teach fair versus equal.

Introduce this distinction early and return to it often.

Siblings fight over “equal” because they’re watching for differences. But when we shift the goal to “fair,” we teach them something deeper: Your sibling getting something doesn’t mean you lose something. And your needs are not the same as theirs, and that’s okay.

I often use this phrase:
“Fair doesn’t always mean everyone gets the same thing. Fair means everyone gets what they need.”

Say it in the moment. Point it out in daily life. Read picture books about fairness.

Over time, it becomes part of their internal compass, and it will serve them well beyond the sibling relationship.

Step 5: Hold the boundary warmly.

You do not need to buy the second dinosaur. But you can hold that boundary with warmth rather than dismissal.

“I’m not going to get you a dinosaur today, but I do want to hear about your day. Tell me something good that happened.”

You are redirecting toward connection, not away from the child.

Step 6: Fill the connection tank — not the toy box.

Older children who are more secure in their relationship with their parents, and who have their needs met, are less likely to display sibling rivalry. Security is built in small, consistent moments, not grand gestures.

Instead of buying the matching toy, spend 10 minutes of uninterrupted one-on-one time with the child who felt left out. Read a book together. Kick a ball. A Saturday morning trip to the bakery, just the two of you. A private joke or a ritual that belongs only to you and them.

When children know they have their own special time coming, they are less threatened by the spotlight their sibling is in right now.

Step 7: Avoid comparisons.

Explicit and implicit comparisons between siblings fuel resentment and competition. When parents’ expectations are too high of the older child, it can lead to more jealousy, but when parents have more reasonable expectations, children are less likely to be jealous and more likely to be positive role models.

Avoid phrases like “why can’t you be more like your brother?” or labelling children as “the sporty one” or “the sensitive one.” It will be hard, I have been there.

Instead, notice and name each child’s unique strengths, separately, specifically, and often.

Step 8: Celebrate what you see.

When you see your children cooperating, sharing, or resolving a conflict kindly, name it. Praise it. Research on sibling relationship programmes has found that teaching parents to strengthen sibling bonds leads to measurable improvements: greater sibling warmth and less rivalry, with effects sustained over months.

What This Looked Like in My Home

I looked at my younger son’s older brother. He was still waiting, face set, for an answer about the dinosaur.

I sat down next to him.

“You saw him come in with something and you wished you had one too.”

He nodded, a little defensively.

“That makes sense. Sometimes when someone else gets something, it can feel like you got left out. Like maybe it means something.”

His shoulders dropped slightly.

“It doesn’t, though. Not about you and me.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he asked if he could show me something he had made at school.

The dinosaur was forgotten within minutes. Not because I solved the problem. Because I answered the actual question.

The Long Game: Building a Strong Sibling Bond

Every jealous moment is actually an opportunity, to teach emotional literacy, to set kind boundaries, and to reassure each child that they are loved uniquely.

The stakes are meaningful. Research shows that high-quality sibling relationships serve as protective factors for children’s emotional security and mental health, and that the small daily actions we take add up over time.

Will they still argue? Yes. Will there still be tears over balloons and shoes and birthday goodie bags? Almost certainly.

But underneath all of that, a foundation is being built. A foundation of fairness, empathy, and the quiet knowledge that love does not have to be divided.

It can be multiplied.

And that, I believe, is the real gift we give our children when we stop trying to make everything equal, and start offering genuine connection instead.

— Dr. Amy See, PhD

What does sibling jealousy look like in your home? I would love to hear from you in the comments.

Share

If you want to read more from Amy

➡️ Connection Before Correction

The relationship has to come first. A practical guide for parents and educators supporting children who struggle — starting with trust, not strategy.


➡️ It Was Not One Child’s Problem. It Was the Room’s

What happens when a whole group is dysregulated — and why the behaviour you see is rarely the thing that needs addressing.


➡️ He Heard “Ice Cream” From Three Rooms Away

Why your child ignores you four times then appears instantly at the word “playground.” It’s not selective hearing. It’s a brilliant, unfinished brain.

More from Connection Bridge Parenting

For me, the main takeaway from Amy’s post is that jealousy comes from a child’s need for reassurance. They want to know that their feelings and desires matter to us.

With that understanding in mind, I decided to explore the themes of competition and rivalry in the final story of the Silverbrook School Shared Snack series.

The story is called Nico and the Snack That Everyone Loved.

When the children at school start preferring Tommy and Benny’s honey cakes, Nico begins to worry. Eventually, he discovers that the competition between them was based on a misunderstanding and that he doesn’t have to be the best to matter.

Explore the full Jealousy series.

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

References

— Sibling jealousy as natural reaction, present from 9 months: NCT (2025). Sibling relationships and sibling rivalry.

— Sibling rivalry root cause and parental attention: EBSCO Research Starters (2025). Sibling Rivalry.

— Jealousy as threat to parent-child bond: Volling et al. (2002). Emotion regulation in context: the jealousy complex between young siblings. PubMed.

— Individual attention and avoiding comparison: MyWellnessHub (2023). Helping Children Cope with Jealousy: Practical Tips.

— Sibling relationship programmes and outcomes: Nationwide Children’s Hospital. Sibling Rivalry — Helping Hand.

It was finally Shared Snack Day at Silverbrook School.

The children were arranging their snacks on a big wooden table in the middle of the courtyard.

Jojo and Nico stepped back to admire their platter. It was colorful and full, with bread, cheese, walnuts, fruit, and little bowls of jam.

Fifi adjusted a few slices of bread while Livy moved the strawberry jam closer to the front.
“There,” she said.
“Perfect.”

Yesterday, they had an empty bucket, a burned cake, and no idea what they would bring. Now, they had plenty of food to share with their friends.

Nico smiled.
“I think everyone’s going to love it.”

Tommy and Benny were the last to arrive.

They brought a large plate of honey cakes arranged in neat rows. The cakes were perfect golden rectangles, glistening with honey and decorated with tiny flowers and shiny blueberries.

Tommy placed the plate on the table and stepped back.

Benny picked up a honey cake and took a bite.
“Mmm,” was all he could say with his mouth full.

Everyone gathered around.

“Those look amazing!”
“These are delicious!”
“I want another one!”

One by one, the neat rows of honey cakes began disappearing.

Nico looked at their platter.

A moment ago, it had looked colorful and special. Now, beside the perfect honey cakes, it looked plain.

Maybe even a little boring.

Nico nudged a walnut with his finger.
“No one’s eating our food,” he said.

Jojo looked at him, then at the platter.
“They will,” he said.
Then he reached for a honey cake.

Nico’s eyes followed his hand.
“You’re having one too?”

“Of course,” Jojo said.
He took a bite.
“Mmm. That’s good.”

Share

Before Nico could answer, Benny came over.

He picked up a walnut, pressed it on top of a honey cake, and took a bite.
“That tastes even better,” he said.

Livy dipped hers into the berry jam, and her eyes widened.
“You have to try this,” she said.

Then Fifi placed a piece of cheese on her cake and tried it. Her nose wrinkled.
“Maybe we don’t need to combine everything,” she said.

Everyone laughed.

Nico smiled, but his eyes returned to the honey cakes.

Only five were left.
Then three.
Then two.

Jojo sat beside him.
“You keep looking at the cakes.”

“I’m not,” Nico said.

“You just looked again.”

Nico frowned.

“If you want one, this is your last chance.”

Nico reached out and took the last honey cake.

It was soft and sweet, and it smelled wonderful. The blueberry burst in his mouth.

He looked at Tommy and Benny.
“You’re really good at making cakes,” he said.

Benny stared at him.
“You think we made them ourselves?”

Tommy burst out laughing.
“We were supposed to add a few tablespoons of milk,” he said.

Benny covered his face.

“But someone measured cups instead.”

“You were holding the recipe!” Benny said.

“You were doing the pouring!”

“We made soup,” Benny admitted.

Tommy shook his head.
“It wasn’t soup. It was muddy milk.”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“We couldn’t bake it,” Benny said.
“It spread everywhere.”

“Then my grandma came into the kitchen,” Tommy continued.
“She looked at the bowl for a very long time.”

Tommy sat up straight and lowered his voice.
“She said: Boys, I think you should start again.”

“She showed us how to measure everything properly,”

“And she helped us bake and cut the cakes,” Tommy finished.

Nico looked at the empty tray.
“I thought you made them all by yourselves.”

Tommy and Benny looked at each other and laughed.
“We could never cut them so neatly by ourselves,” Benny explained.

Nico rubbed his shoe against the grass.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you.”

The children looked at him.

“When you said you were bringing the best honey cakes ever, I wanted to bring something even better. I wanted everyone to come to our snack first.”

Tommy tilted his head.
“We only said that because you said you were going fishing.”

Nico looked at him.
“So?”

“We’ve never been fishing before,” Tommy said.

Jojo’s eyes grew wide.
“You’ve never been fishing?”

“No one in my family knows how,” Tommy said.

“And my father says it’s boring,” Benny added.

Nico looked at Jojo.
“We can all go fishing after school.”

Tommy’s face lit up.
“Really?”

“I’ll let you borrow my fishing rod,” Fifi said.

“And I’ll show you how to cast a line,” Nico added.

Tommy and Benny grinned.

Then Nico looked at the empty cake plate.
“I think we have a problem. The honey cakes are gone, and I’m still hungry.”

Benny looked at the platter.
“But there’s still bread, cheese, and plenty of jam.”

Everyone moved closer to the table. They ate, talked, and laughed about the muddy milk all over again.

Nico looked around the table.

Everyone had loved the honey cakes.

But that didn’t mean they cared about Nico any less.

Because in Silverbrook Valley, you don’t have to be the best to be important to your friends.

The End

Previous stories in this series

• Nico and the Snack That Was Different

• Fifi and Livy Bake a Cake

• Jojo, Nico, and the Fish That Never Came

I wrote this story as a companion to a wonderful guest post on jealousy, written by Dr. Amy See, PhD.

My biggest takeaway was that beneath jealousy is a child’s need to know they matter.

So I imagined what would happen if Nico’s fear came true and everyone preferred someone else’s snack. What he ultimately discovers is that he doesn’t have to be the most impressive to matter.

Amy’s post also offers practical strategies for navigating sibling rivalry.

You can read it here:

The Jealousy Loop: Why Your Child Wants Everything Their Sibling Has

This story is part of the Silverbrook Valley collection
For younger children, explore the Feathernest Woods collection

Browse all stories, articles, and resources

Share Connection Bridge Parenting

Everything I write about anger is based on two ideas.

1️⃣ Anger is a response to an underlying problem

To reduce anger, we need to address the deeper issue.

2️⃣ Anger makes us feel like we’re on opposing sides

When we’re angry, we assume other people don’t care about what we need or may even be actively working against us.

That sense of disconnection makes it much harder to solve the problem underneath the anger.

In How to De-Escalate Your Child’s Anger Without Giving In, I covered what to do in the heat of the moment, while your child’s nervous system is activated.

But calming down is only the first step.

After that, it’s time to find and address the issue that created the anger.

Connect first

Take a few moments to restore the sense of warmth and safety between you before talking about what happened.

This reminds you and your child that you’re working together instead of competing over who gets their way.

Look underneath the anger

Anger protects more vulnerable feelings.

Help your child understand and name what they’re feeling.

Your child may feel left out or excluded, or believe that their needs don’t matter. They may feel overwhelmed, guilty, or ashamed about something that happened at school.

Reassure them that these feelings are a normal part of life and that everyone experiences them at times.

Then help them find ways to address the situation that caused these feelings.

When children recognize and work through these vulnerable feelings, they don’t need anger to protect them.

Solve problems and build missing skills

We all know how angry we can become when we feel powerless, and how quickly that can change when we find a solution and start working toward it.

Sometimes, children become angry because they’re facing a problem they don’t yet have the skills to solve.

▸A child who is struggling to make friends may need help learning how to approach other children and ask to join their play.

▸A child who becomes angry because they can’t do their math homework may be missing key concepts they need to understand before they can move forward.

Look beyond the anger and ask:

➡️ What is making this situation difficult for my child?

➡️ What skills, knowledge, or support do they need to handle it better?

Then help them build what’s missing.

Addressing aggressive behavior and teaching self-restraint are important, but they’re not enough on their own.

As long as the underlying problem remains unresolved, the anger will keep coming back.

Keep limits with empathy

Not every situation can be resolved in a way our child likes.

Sometimes, we need to hold a limit that makes them angry or disappointed. They have a right to those feelings.

We can understand their anger without giving in.

Repair the relationship and make amends

As a child, I felt deeply ashamed of my mistakes.

I believed I was a bad person, and I took every mistake, no matter how small or unintended, as proof.

Punishment reinforced that belief.

I would make a mistake, be punished, feel pain and humiliation, and then there was nothing after that.

Nothing to resolve or repair.

No second chances.

Today, I see things differently.

When my son makes a mistake, especially when anger leads him to hurt someone or act against our family values, we talk about what happened.

Sometimes this is a difficult conversation because he feels guilty or ashamed. I do my best to combine compassion with honesty and remind him that his mistake does not change my love for him or define his worth.

Then we talk about how he can make amends, and I make sure he follows through.

Finally, we look at why it happened and what he can do differently next time.

As a child, I was left with shame and despair after every misstep.

For my son, I don’t want accountability that makes him feel bad about himself.

I want accountability that leads to growth.

Practice what to do next time

Once you understand what happened, talk about what your child can do differently next time.

Help them notice the early signs that their anger is escalating and practice ways to ask for help, calm down, or express their anger safely.

Talking about these strategies when your child is calm and practicing them repeatedly makes it more likely they’ll be able to use them in the heat of the moment.

In the next part of this series, we’ll look at the habits and conditions that can make anger less frequent and less intense.

I hope these ideas help you support your child through anger.

If there’s anything you would add to this list, I’d love to hear it in the comments.

More articles about anger:

• Three Unhealthy Ways We Respond to Anger (Premium framework here)

• Three Healthy Ways We Respond to Anger

• How to De-Escalate Your Child’s Anger Without Giving In

Children’s stories that show these ideas in action:

• ZeeZee the Bee Who Buzzed Too Loud

• Jojo and the Missing Dock

You’ll find the full anger series here.

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

When my son was younger, his anger was a mystery to me.

One moment, everything was fine, and the next, he was hitting, slamming doors, or throwing things, and I didn’t know what to do.

When he was three, he started hitting me whenever he got angry.

I remember thinking, What am I supposed to do now?

I wanted to show him that hitting was wrong. Since I would never hit him back, I decided to punish him by placing some of his toys on top of the refrigerator for a couple of days.

I thought I was compassionate and wise, and I was teaching him that actions have consequences.

But here’s what really happened.

My son became a boy on a mission to retrieve what was rightfully his. He moved chairs, he climbed, he took risks while I wasn’t watching.

I became the person standing between him and his toys, and he stopped trusting me.

Punishment gave me the illusion I was taking control of the situation, but it made everything worse. My son became angrier, less likely to cooperate, and even more likely to hit again.

It wasn’t teaching him how to deal with his anger.

It was only creating more problems.

Is the situation urgent?

One of the biggest criticisms of connection-first parenting is that it’s permissive.

We hear about situations where an angry child is hitting their mother while she passively accepts being hit, reassuring the child that she understands why they’re upset.

For many parents, the challenge is learning how to stay connected while also setting firm limits.

The first step is to distinguish urgent situations from everything else, because they require completely different responses.

Urgent situations

Some situations are dangerous, like a child running into the street, hitting, or damaging things. This also includes time-sensitive situations where delaying has real consequences, like missing a flight or an important event.

In these moments, the urgent problem comes first.

We use the least amount of force necessary to handle the situation, then reconnect afterward and work through what happened.

Non-urgent situations

In every other situation, we have time to connect, calm down, and address what’s behind the anger.

The difference seems clear when we’re calm, but it gets blurry in the heat of the moment.

Because I have an overactive nervous system, my automatic reaction to my son’s anger is to treat it like an emergency and shut it down immediately.

So when my son is angry, my first goal is to help us both return to a calm, connected state.

Here’s what helps me de-escalate.

Catch the anger early

Before every meltdown, there’s a gradual build-up.

If I miss a few opportunities for empathy and connection, my son thinks I don’t care about his needs, and his nervous system shifts into fight or flight.

Now that I know the signs, I can step in earlier, before logic goes out the window.

Stay connected without forcing connection

When someone is angry, my nervous system perceives it as a threat and wants to fight back, run away, or shut down.

Learning to stay connected to my son while giving him space to refuse that connection until he’s ready has been a hard skill to develop.

Reflect back what you’re seeing

When I say, “You’re really angry because you wanted to play Minecraft,” my son knows I understand his point of view and care about what he’s feeling.

Phrases like this are often used to make fun of gentle parenting, but in my experience, they work.

Take your time

When I’m focused on my agenda, slowing down feels like a luxury I can’t afford.

It seems counterintuitive, but in the end, this relaxed pace leads to a quicker resolution. We spend less time resisting and more time cooperating to find a solution that is more elegant, effective, and makes us both feel proud.

Redirect the energy safely

Redirecting the explosive energy into safe outlets, like hitting a pillow or a punching bag, instead of hitting people or destroying things.

Check for hunger and overstimulation

Sometimes my son has outbursts when he’s hungry or overstimulated.

We may spend a long time trying to help him calm down and understand what he’s angry about, only to discover we’ve been trying to solve the wrong problem.

Avoid power struggles without giving in

When I’m talking to my son, my love for him makes it easy to let go of my ego and see things from his perspective.

But in the middle of an argument, I may get flooded with thoughts that he’s difficult or spoiled. Suddenly, it feels like I’m fighting for my dignity, maybe even survival.

Here’s a Note I wrote after one of those moments a while back:

From a practical standpoint, turning a disagreement into a power struggle guarantees it will be harder to solve.

But avoiding a power struggle doesn’t mean giving in to my son’s demands. That only creates the kind of situations critics of gentle parenting make fun of.

As long as the situation isn’t dangerous or urgent, my goal is to de-escalate until we both feel calm and connected.

When we see each other as partners instead of enemies, that’s when the real work begins.

I’ll talk about that in the next article in this series.

I hope these ideas help you support your child through moments of anger.

If you’ve found something else that helps, I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

More articles about anger:

• Three Unhealthy Ways We Respond to Anger (Premium framework here)

• Three Healthy Ways We Respond to Anger

• What to Do After Your Child Calms Down

Children’s stories:

• ZeeZee the Bee Who Buzzed Too Loud

• Jojo and the Missing Dock

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.

It was Sunday afternoon in Silverbrook Valley.
Tomorrow was Shared Snack Day at school.

Jojo and Nico went to the river with fishing rods and a small bucket.

“We’re going to catch the biggest fish,” Jojo said.
“Everyone’s going to wish they were us.”

They cast their lines far into the water and sat with their feet dangling below.

After a while, Jojo felt a tiny tug on the line.
“I got one!” he shouted.

But when he pulled the hook from the water, there was nothing there.
“Maybe the fish just wanted to say hello,” Nico said with a smile.

While waiting, the boys skipped stones across the river and balanced along the edge of the dock.
Jojo pretended he had hooked a giant river monster hiding deep below the water.
Nico laughed so hard he nearly dropped the bucket into the river.

Every now and then, they remembered to cast their lines again.
But no fish came.

After a while, Nico looked into the bucket.
It was still empty.
Then he looked at Jojo.
“What’s our plan B?” he asked.

Jojo blinked.
“Our what?”

“Our other plan,” Nico explained.
“In case we don’t catch any fish.”

Jojo scratched his head.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Nico sat at the edge of the dock and rested his chin on his hands.
“Tomorrow, everyone will open their snacks under the old oak tree,” he said.
“I heard Tommy and Ben are bringing honey cakes.”

Jojo looked over.
“How do you know?”

“They were talking about it at school,” Nico replied.
“They said everyone would probably gather around their cakes first.”

Nico pressed his shoe against the wooden boards.
"What if nobody likes what we bring?” he asked.

Just then, they heard footsteps. They saw Fifi and Livy walking toward the dock.

Livy looked at the empty bucket beside Nico’s feet.
“What happened here?” she asked.

“We spent all day trying to catch fish,” Nico said.
“But we didn’t catch any.”

Fifi tilted her head.
“What did you want to make with the fish?” she asked.

Jojo and Nico looked at each other.
“We didn’t really think that far,” Jojo admitted with a small shrug.

Share

“What about you?” Nico asked.
“What did you make for Shared Snack Day?”

Fifi and Livy looked at each other.

“We tried making a cake,” Fifi began.
“With frosting,” Livy added.
“But it burned,” Fifi said.
“And now we don’t have enough ingredients to make another one,” Livy finished.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Livy looked up.
“I still have walnuts at home,” she said.
“And maybe we can find some fruit,” Fifi added.

Nico stared at the empty bucket.
“That doesn’t sound very special.”

Fifi gave a small shrug.
“Plain is better than nothing,” she said.

Nico lowered his eyes.
“Maybe we shouldn’t even go tomorrow,” he murmured.
“Everyone else will have better things.”

Jojo turned toward him.

“I know that feeling,” he said.
“Last year, I was the keeper of the treasure map, and I was supposed to keep it safe.
But I lost it.”

Nico looked up.

“I thought everything was ruined,” Jojo continued.
“I wanted to hide, but Fifi and Livy helped me.
They didn’t care that I made a mistake.”

“We made a mistake too today,” Fifi said with a small laugh.

“Yes,” Livy agreed.
“We made a veeery black cake.”

This time, Nico laughed too.

Jojo stood and picked up the empty bucket.

“Come on,” he said.
“Let’s go to my house and see what we can find.”

At Jojo’s house, the children opened cupboards and searched through the kitchen.
They found bread, fruit, butter, and a few jars of jam.

Livy hurried home and returned with walnuts in a paper bag.
Nico disappeared for a moment, too. Then he came back carrying a large piece of cheese wrapped in cloth.

“It’s not enough for a real recipe,” Nico said.

“What if it doesn’t need to be a recipe?” Livy asked.

They all looked at her.
“What if we use everything we have to make one big snack platter?”

Suddenly, the table didn’t look so empty anymore.

“I can cut the bread,” Jojo said.
“I’ll prepare the fruit,” Fifi added.

Livy reached for the jars.
“I’ll make the spreads look nice.”

“And I’ll cut the cheese,” Nico said.

When they finished, the children stepped back and looked at the platter.

“It looks beautiful,” Livy said.

“At first, I thought everyone else’s snack would be better,” Nico said.
“Now I think they’ll be happy to share with us.”

Because in Silverbrook Valley, Shared Snack Day was never about having the best snack.

It was about sharing with friends.

The End

Want to know how Shared Snack Day began?
Read Nico and the Snack That Was Different.

Want to know how Fifi and Livy burned their cake?
Read Fifi and Livy Bake a Cake

This story is part of the Silverbrook Valley collection
For younger children, explore the Feathernest Woods collection

Browse all stories, articles, and resources

Share Connection Bridge Parenting

One night, a fierce storm swept through Silverbrook Valley.
Rain poured from the sky while the river rushed, roared, and spilled over its banks.

When Jojo woke up the next morning, the sun was shining again.
“Let’s go fishing!” he said to his friends.

Fifi, Nico, and Livy grabbed their fishing rods and hurried after him.

The fishing dock was one of their favorite places in all of Silverbrook Valley.
But when they reached the riverbank, they stopped.

The dock was gone.

Only a few broken posts stuck out of the water, and the river flowed past them as if the dock had never been there.

The children stared.

At last, Jojo kicked a stone into the river.
“This is a disaster,” he said.

The next day at school, everyone was talking about the storm.

“My father said the Valley Elders met this morning,” Nico said.
“They decided not to rebuild the dock.”

“What?” Jojo exclaimed.
”That’s so unfair!”
He nudged a stone with his shoe.
The stone rolled across the schoolyard and bumped into Nico’s lunchbox.

CLUNK.

Nico looked up.
“Watch it,” he said.

Jojo opened his mouth to argue.

Then he sighed.
“Sorry.”

He sat down on the stone bench and folded his arms.
The rest of the day, Jojo hardly spoke at all.

After school, the children tried speaking to one of the elders.

But before anyone else could say a word, Jojo launched into a speech about how unfair everything was.

The elder gave them a kind smile.
“I’m sorry, children, but I have work to do,” he said before hurrying away.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jojo asked his friends.

Livy shrugged.
“What’s the point? Grown-ups never listen anyway.”

Fifi shrugged too.
“Who cares?
It’s just an old dock.”
But everyone could tell she cared very much.

One afternoon, Mr. Alder, the teacher, found the children talking about rebuilding the dock.
“Have you told the elders why the dock matters to you?” he asked.

“Of course we did!” Jojo exclaimed.
“But they don’t care.”

“Well... maybe we didn’t explain exactly why it matters,” Fifi admitted.

Mr. Alder smiled.
“When we’re angry, people don’t always hear us. But people usually listen to stories.”

“What could we tell them?” Livy asked.

Mr. Alder looked at the children.
“I’m sure each of you has a story about what the dock meant to you,” he said.
“Why don’t you tell those?”

And with that, he returned to the classroom.

Share

This time, they didn’t talk about rebuilding.

Fifi talked about long summer days at the dock.
She and her friends would dive into the river, then lie on the warm wooden boards to dry in the sunshine.

Livy remembered sitting with her friends, watching ducks glide across the water while the river sparkled in the afternoon sun.

“My father taught me how to fish there when I was too little to hold the rod properly,” said Jojo.
“One day, I dropped the fishing rod into the river, and my father laughed so hard while they were trying to pull it back out.”

“When I first came to Silverbrook Valley, I felt lonely,” Nico said.
“But Jojo invited me to go fishing, and soon we were spending most afternoons there having fun together.”

After sharing their memories, the angry feelings inside them seemed smaller.
Now they were just sad because they missed something they loved.

“The Great Oak Assembly is tomorrow,” Nico said.

“Then that’s where we speak up,” Fifi added.

The next day, the children went to the Great Oak Assembly.

The elders were discussing roads, gardens, and repairs from the storm.
Every time the children tried to speak, someone would say,
“Please wait,” or
“This is a meeting for grown-ups.”

Soon, the meeting was almost over.

Then Livy stepped forward.
Her heart thumped fast inside her chest.

For a moment, she almost stayed where she was.
But this was too important.
“We live in Silverbrook Valley too,” she said.
”And we have something important to say.”

The crowd fell silent.

The children walked to the front.
They spoke about family, friendship, and afternoons spent beside the river.

When they finished, a kind elder named Rowan stood.
“Thank you, children, for sharing your memories,” he said.
“Now I understand why the dock is so important to you.”

The children smiled. At last, they had been heard.

Then Rowan’s expression grew serious.
“But there is something important you should know,” he said.
“The riverbank where the old dock stood is no longer safe. We cannot rebuild it there.”

The children looked down.
For a moment, nobody spoke.

Nico was the first to look up.
“What if we build somewhere else?” he asked.

Rowan nodded.
“We may be able to build a little further upstream,” he said.
“But it won’t be the same dock.”

Jojo thought for a moment.
“Then let’s make it even better,” he said.

Rowan smiled.
“What do you have in mind?”

Everyone had ideas.

“A bigger fishing platform!”
“A diving platform!”
“Picnic tables and benches under the trees!”
“Quiet places for friends and families to sit and enjoy nature!”

Together, they designed a new dock and gathering place for the whole valley to share.

After a few weeks, everyone in Silverbrook Valley gathered for the opening celebration.

“This place began with an idea,” Rowan said.
“And it would never have existed without the children of Silverbrook Valley.”

The children beamed with pride as everyone applauded.

Later that afternoon, Jojo sat beside the river with his friends.

The old dock was gone, and Jojo still missed it sometimes.

He looked around at the fishing platform, the picnic tables, and the families gathered beneath the trees.

Then he smiled.

Sometimes things change, he thought.

But in Silverbrook Valley, when people listen to one another and work together, they create something new.

The End

This story is part of the Silverbrook Valley collection
For younger children, explore the Feathernest Woods collection

Browse all stories, articles, and resources

Share Connection Bridge Parenting

I am lucky to have a whole room to myself.

It’s my home office, but it’s also where I paint, sew, and do hand embroidery.

Over time, one closet slowly filled with sewing supplies and unfinished projects until my sewing machine and serger no longer fit inside.

A few months ago, I connected with Ann, from .

She invited me onto her podcast, where we had a wonderful conversation about connection in parenting and the role it plays in both our work.

Afterward, she offered me a consultation to organize that overflowing closet.

Knowing what to do isn’t enough

I’ve spent the past seven years gradually decluttering and organizing my home using the KonMari method.

I know how to create systems that are practical and easy to maintain.

And yet, organizing always ends up at the bottom of my to-do list, patiently waiting for “someday.”

During our call, Ann looked at photos of my closet and asked thoughtful questions about how I actually use the space.

One of her suggestions was to store my fabric upright, so I can remove one piece without creating a mess. She also suggested raising the back row slightly higher than the front, making everything visible at a glance.

These small adjustments create a system that won’t fall apart the first time I use it.

But what helped me even more than the practical advice was the connection.

I felt understood and safe, and my nervous system relaxed.

For the first time in my life, I could talk to someone about a disorganized space without worrying that I’d be judged for my shortcomings.

When the call ended, I couldn’t wait to get started.

The hidden cost of clutter

Organizing a cupboard full of things I use occasionally doesn’t feel urgent.

So I kept putting it off.

It’s easy to ignore clutter when it’s hidden behind a closed door.

But every time I postponed it, I reinforced the feeling that I’m the type of person who doesn’t resolve problems.

It affected my mood, my energy, and the way I see myself.

The relief came before the closet was finished

A few weeks ago, one of Ann’s posts inspired me to organize my towel closet and add a small decorative item to fill the empty space.

While my son was at school, I borrowed one of his stuffed animals. I felt slightly guilty, but I reminded myself that sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Later, he generously agreed to let it stay.

It’s a small, playful detail that reminds me that even an ordinary linen cupboard can lift my mood.

That small success gave me the confidence to finally tackle my sewing closet, which was admittedly a much larger and more intimidating project.

The moment I opened the closet and started taking things out, I felt a sense of relief.

That’s when I realized how much mental energy I had been spending pretending it wasn’t important.

Even before I finished, I felt lighter because I was finally moving forward.

The story I’d been telling myself

As a child, I was judged harshly for my messy room.

It really was a disaster, and my parents had every reason to be frustrated.

Whenever people came over, I would shove things into overflowing drawers so no one would see.

It became a badge of honor.

But in truth, I always found it hard to concentrate or relax around clutter.

It wasn’t a choice. It was something I tolerated because I didn’t know how to change it.

This project began because I wanted to fit my sewing machines inside the closet and protect them from the dust.

But the benefits go far beyond having an organized closet.

Ann helped me realize I’m not a messy person.

I’m someone who sometimes procrastinates organizing because it feels demanding or less urgent than other things.

But I’m also someone who enjoys learning, improving, and taking action.


The fear of what other people might think was never a strong enough reason to fully organize my space.

This time, I wanted to create a peaceful, functional space that brings me joy because I deserve to experience that every day.

And here’s the biggest surprise of all.

I had a lot of fun doing it.

About Ann Dooley

Ann is a connection-first home organizer who helps parents organize with their children, not for them.

She guides families to develop internal motivation to tackle the clutter, and provides access to her nearly a decade of experience troubleshooting organizing and parenting challenges.

In one brief virtual consultation, she helped me tackle something I'd been avoiding for far too long and reminded me that I was capable of creating a home that feels peaceful and functional.

Ann offers a free consultation, because relief is within reach, and sometimes you just need someone to show you the way.

➡️Here’s a link to Ann’s publication:

This is the post that inspired me to transform my towel closet:
Gallery: Five Drawers Worth Opening

One of the things I’ve discovered is that storytelling makes organizing feel less like a chore and more like a shared adventure.

These stories help children care for their space without pressure or judgment.

• Sissy The Cat And The Toys Who Were Bored

• Jojo and the Night Wizzy Lost His Helpers

• Livy and the Dress That Needed Space (collaboration with Dooley Noted)

You can also explore my full Tidying With Children series.

Explore the full library of articles, stories, and parenting resources here.