Hello Coco,

Have you ever watched your child fall apart over something that seemed small?

A favorite t-shirt in the wash.
A misplaced phone.
Being told “no” to something they really wanted.

And then, on another day, you watch that same child light up with so much joy—laughing, celebrating, completely absorbed in a moment—that you can’t help but smile too.

If you’re parenting a child with ADHD, you’ve probably seen both.

The exhilarating highs and the draining lows.

Children with ADHD often feel things deeply.

Not just a little more than other kids—but in a way that can feel all-consuming in the moment.

What might look like an overreaction from the outside is often something very different on the inside.

It’s overwhelm.

It’s a nervous system that’s flooded.

It’s a child who doesn’t yet have the tools to make sense of everything they’re feeling.

I remember a mom sharing a morning with her daughter, Sophie.

It had been one of those rushed, stressful starts to the day.

Sophie couldn’t find her favorite sweatshirt. Her socks felt “scratchy.” And when her mom asked her to sit down for breakfast, Sophie burst into tears.

On the surface, it might seem like a dramatic reaction to a small problem.

But her mom knew better.

Sophie wasn’t just upset about the sweatshirt or the socks.

Everything had started to pile up at once—and her feelings simply overflowed.

In the past, she might have tried to move things along quickly.

“Come on, we’re going to be late.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Just pick something else.”

But with practice, she learned to pause rather than rush past it.

Not to fix the moment…
but to understand it.

So instead, she slowed things down.

“This morning hasn’t gone the way you hoped, has it?” she said gently.

She wasn’t solving the problem right away.

She was helping Sophie begin to make sense of what she was feeling.

And then she added,

“Sometimes when a lot of little things don’t go our way, it can start to feel frustrating… and even a little overwhelming. I’m wondering if it feels a little like that.”

Sophie didn’t respond right away.

But her body softened.

She wasn’t as escalated.

She felt seen.

That moment didn’t erase the stress or magically fix the morning.

But it gave Sophie something she didn’t know how to give herself yet—

a way to begin understanding what was happening inside her.

And then there’s the other side of that same intensity.

Another mom shared a moment with her son, Ethan.

They were out hiking one weekend, and Ethan became completely captivated by the idea of finding cool rocks.

He searched and searched until he finally spotted one—shiny and colorful, tucked just off the trail.

The moment he picked it up, his whole face lit up.

He jumped up and down, laughing, talking a mile a minute, already imagining all the things he wanted to do with it.

It was just a rock.

But in that moment, it felt like everything.

And his excitement didn’t stay contained—it spread.

His mom found herself smiling.

What could have easily been brushed off or redirected, became something worth pausing for.

Something to join.

What once felt like “too much”…

was actually something she could step into and share with him.

And when she did, instead of pulling it back…it became something beautiful between them.

The same intensity that leads to meltdowns…
is the very same intensity that fuels joy, creativity, empathy, and connection.

It’s not something separate.

It’s the same beautiful, complicated system.

The magic begins when we start asking ourselves,

“How can I support my child through this?”

Because big feelings aren’t something we can reason away in the moment.

They need space.
They need safety.
They need a calm, steady presence.

That might look like sitting nearby without saying a word or trying to fix it.

Or

It might sound like:

“I’m here for you, whenever you’re ready.”

And later—when things are calm—it might mean helping your child begin to understand what was going on inside them and gently build the skills they need to navigate those moments next time.

Over time, something important begins to happen.

Your child starts to feel less alone in their emotions.

They begin to trust that their feelings are safe to share.

And slowly, with support, they learn how to move through those big waves instead of being overtaken by them.

The same emotions that can feel so hard in one moment…are the very ones that make your child so vibrant, so connected, and so full of life.

When we stay with our children in those moments, we’re not just helping them get through something hard.

We’re helping them learn to understand themselves.

And that may be one of the greatest gifts we can give them.

Warmly,

Vicky & Coco