Parentotheca’s Newsletter
Learn. Parent. Grow.
Issue #6 – October 2025
👋 Hello Friends
Last month I watched a small moment turn into a big lesson: a shifting ETA on the car screen… and my son melting down because we might be ten minutes late to swimming. On the surface: lateness. Underneath: a story his brain already knew – late = danger.
Here is what I keep reminding myself (and other parents): behaviour isn’t a problem to fix, it’s a message to decode. And sometimes the message comes from beliefs and memories we helped write.
If you’ve had those “this reaction makes no sense” moments – you’re not alone. That’s exactly what this issue is about. Here’s what you’ll find inside:
🔍 Monthly Insight: Behaviour is communication – why “irrational” reactions usually make perfect sense
📚 From the Library: Implicit vs explicit memories – how old stories drive new meltdowns (from The Whole-Brain Child)
🛠️ Parentotheca’s Toolbox: The “Fortunately, Unfortunately” game – a playful way to unstick worry and build flexible thinking
✨If you’re doing all the things and still feel stuck, this is the work I love. I’ve got one coaching spot open this month – hit reply to claim it (newsletter readers get 50% off the first session; details below).
Let’s dive in.
🔍 Monthly Insight: Behaviour Is Communication – Dig Deeper
My older son loves his swimming club. He rarely misses practice – late nights, storms, other plans, he shows up. Champion mindset. And yet, he’s also a kid whose brain tilts toward the negative.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband and the boys were driving home from Ikea when traffic stalled. The ETA kept jumping. Ten minutes late… twelve… nine…By the time they pulled up, my eldest was in full panic: “I’m not going. It’s ruined.” Tears, refusal, shutdown.
My other son tried logic: “Come on, we’ll still have 1 hour 20!” But reassurance bounces off a nervous system already in fight-or-flight. He went to practice; his brother stayed home, devastated.
Later, when the storm had passed, I sat beside my son – no lectures, just presence. We traced the thought line together. At the surface: “I hate being late,” and “There is no point in going if I’m late.” Underneath: “If I’m late, I’m in trouble.” And beneath that: frustration at his brother for not caring about lateness, which made his own standard feel fragile and exposed.
What shifted things wasn’t a pep talk. It was naming what was true. He likes arriving early to “mentally arrive.” Fair. Predictability is calming. We agreed: if the clock works against him, he can run his pre-practice routine in his head – breathing, visualising the warm up – so his body still gets the signal, “I’m ready.” The belief softened from all-or-nothing to good-enough and still worthwhile.
Here’s the insight I keep relearning at home and when working with other parents: “irrational” behaviour is usually perfectly rational once you find the belief driving it. Kids don’t melt down without a reason; they protect something that feels at risk – identity, competence, belonging, safety. Our job isn’t to judge or to cave; it’s to get curious. Why now? What story is being told? Whose voice is it?
Behaviour is communication. Listen for the story. Then help write a better ending.
📚 From the Library: The Power of Implicit Memories (from The Whole Brain Child by Daniel Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson)
“When our kids seem to be reacting in unusually unreasonable ways, we need to consider whether an implicit memory has created a mental model that we need to help them explore.”
— Daniel J. Siegel & Tina Payne Bryson, The Whole-Brain Child
As Dan Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson teach in their fantastic book The Whole-Brain Child, kids don’t just react to the moment – they react to the story their brain already knows. That’s the power of implicit memory: the unconscious, fast, emotional kind that steers behaviour before words even show up. Explicit memory is the opposite – conscious, nameable, tell-able.
So if your child’s reaction feels “too big,” there’s often an old memory lending it extra voltage. Our job isn’t to fix the behaviour first; it’s to help bring the hidden story into the light, so the feeling can settle and the child can choose differently.
In my swimming story, here’s the part that stung (and helped): I realised I’m anxious about lateness, too. When my son first started school, I was the mum hustling him out the door with, “Hurry – we’ll get told off if we’re late!”And once, we did. It was messy; I joined his meltdown instead of soothing it. That moment lodged in his system.
When I told him this story, I watched his shoulders drop. It was as if the “lateness = danger” button loosened. I didn’t give him a tool or a clever strategy, I just made the implicit explicit. We’ve then discussed how he can talk to his brain next time when he’s late.
If you want to go deeper on understanding your child’s behaviour, The Whole-Brain Child is a must-read book, and Siegel’s Mindsight shows how these unseen patterns show up in our adult life as well.
Read The Whole-Brain Child Book Summary
🛠️ Parentotheca’s Toolbox: The “Fortunately, Unfortunately” Game
When a child’s mind slips into “worst-case-scenario mode,” logic rarely lands. Play, however, sneaks past the panic. I first came across this little gem in Lawrence Cohen’s The Opposite of Worry and later in Tamar Chansky’s Freeing Your Child from Negative Thinking. We use it at home often.
The idea is simple: you take a sticky situation and volley between an unfortunate take and a fortunate reframe. It’s light, fast, and playfully teaches the brain to bend instead of break.
The other day, we were on the way to swimming with my son and I decided to play this game with him:
Me: “Unfortunately, we just missed the bus.”
Son: “Fortunately, the next one’ll come soon.”
Me: “Unfortunately, it might be packed and won’t stop.”
Son: “Fortunately, we’ve got time – we can walk.”
Me: “Unfortunately, it could start raining and we’ll get soaked.”
Son: “Fortunately, I’m swimming – I don’t mind getting wet. And you, Mummy, worry too much.”
We both laughed. The worry wave passed before it could crest.
As a parent and a coach, here’s what I love about this game: it builds cognitive flexibility in real time. No lecture about mindset, no pep talk – just a quick pivot from catastrophe to possibility. It helps my kids step out of “what if” loops, and it also helps me stay in problem-solving mode instead of becoming the household’s chief catastrophiser (my husband appreciates this too).
Playfulness isn’t a distraction from the problem; it’s a doorway to a calmer brain. And from there, better choices follow.
🆕 What’s New on Parentotheca
Here’s what dropped this month:
✅ New Book Summary:
- Smart But Scattered by Peg Dawson & Richard Guare
🧭 Coach’s Corner: I’m Here to Help
Parenting is one of the most fulfilling yet challenging journeys, and you don’t have to navigate it alone. As both a parent coach and a life coach, I will help you grow in confidence, skill, and purpose – so you can raise resilient, thriving kids and build a connected, happy family.
I don’t just offer advice – I provide a clear, actionable roadmap to transform your parenting, strengthen your relationships, and help your child develop the skills and mindset essential for flourishing in life.
Ready to lead your family with purpose?
Bonus: Reply to this email and I’ll send you a private link for 50% off your first coaching session.
Let’s make this the turning point.
Thank you for being part of this journey.
Parenting is hard. But don’t wish it was easier, wish you were better.
Talk soon,
Irina
