Since last week’s Wednesday 1-2-3 had everything to do with metabolizing and directing our anger, I figured this week’s may as well focus on something else fun and light: stress.

And while I’m going to frame this week around high-stress moments in parenting, the practice I’m going to share is fairly universal to all of us.

So I’ll start with a story.

When our youngest was 3, he entered into an intense version of the lovely experience known as the “terrible twos.”

He would have massive blow-out tantrums, throwing everything out of his room, trying to hit anyone and anything within arm’s reach, and generally create chaos through the house. All while giggling with a mysterious and terrifying (and seemingly unstoppable) maniacal laughter.

And in these moments, I often had no idea what to do.

The thing that worked the day before no longer worked. The approach offered on the parentings forums didn’t do much. No matter how much re-direction we did, he still seemed to find the direction of destruction.

Enter: my own frustration, anger, and exhaustion.

With his nightly blowouts bumping against my own needs for control and calmness (and rationality), I found myself frequently not showing up as the parent I wanted to be. I’m sure all my fellow parents have had experiences like this: when you’re stressed, confused, a bit lost in the sauce, and you respond not with empathy and gentleness toward your kiddo, but by escalating the situation and picking the fight you knew not to pick.

My partner and I were in survival mode every night between 7pm and 9pm.

Luckily – by the grace of everything good and decent in the Universe – this is no longer the season our kiddo is in. His fits are less volatile and have become much shorter as he’s learned tools and resources to calm himself down and get what he needs.

But the reality is: he’s still a preschooler. Which means, the tantrums haven’t stopped.

And when they begin now, I’ve learned to engage a quick practice that helps me stay present and centered in the midst of the chaos.

Here’s how it works:

When I remember to center, I respond to my kiddo with more patience, compassion, and gentle care.

And more broadly than that, I find myself being more present with my partner, more kind and forgiving with myself, and more creative in my working life, which has brought me a lot of joy.

Try it out sometime this week and let me know how it goes!

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❓ Questions

1. What are 2-3 tactics you've learned for returning to your sense of meaning and purpose in the midst of conflict?
2. What societal issues, problems, or narratives lead you to feel "uncentered" when faced with them? What might a practice look like for you that allows you to engage with these more authentically and whole-heartedly?

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🛠️ Resources

• ​Guided Centering Practice with Staci Haines (Video)
• “How Somatic Experiencing Can Help Process Trauma” (article)
• ​6 More Somatic Techniques for Stress + Anxiety (article)

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⏪ If you missed last week's email:

Hope all is well-enough with you,

Andrew IG: @andrewglang​

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