It Takes a Village Special Needs Parent Coaching LLC

05/19/2026

The diagnosis changes everything. The appointments. The fear. The constant second-guessing. The version of parenting nobody prepared you for.

I call it Advanced Placement Parenting.

And while you can’t control the diagnosis, you can learn how to navigate this life with more support, clarity, and peace.

My 6-week P.E.A.C.E.ful Summer coaching experience is designed for parents raising children with complex needs who are tired of surviving and ready to feel more grounded again.

Limited summer spots are now open. Learn more at www.ittakesavillagenc.com.

05/06/2026

I had a call the other day that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

A parent reached out after what should have been a routine high school transition IEP meeting. The sending middle school and the receiving high school met with the family virtually, decisions were made collaboratively (after some initial push-back from the school), and then the meeting was abruptly ended with reassurance that the finalized IEP would be sent for review and signatures.

But when the family received the document, already electronically signed, they realized something deeply concerning: major changes had been made after the meeting ended. Accommodations they believed were essential for their child’s access to the high school curriculum (and had strongly advocated for) had been removed and they had not knowingly consented to those changes.

While this type of backhanded action is rare, it does happen, and this story should serve as a cautionary reminder for any parent walking into an IEP meeting.

A few advocacy practices I strongly recommend:

✅ Do not end the meeting without finalizing the IEP in real time.

Whenever possible, decisions should be reflected in the document while you are still present and able to confirm accuracy.

✅ Always ask at the beginning of the meeting who will be taking the meeting minutes.

In this case, the parents were told none were taken, which created a gap in accountability.

✅ Save time at the end of the meeting to review the Prior Written Notice as a team.

This ensures that what was agreed upon—and what was not—is clearly documented before anyone leaves.

Procedural safeguards exist under IDEA to protect families, but these simple, proactive steps matter. Without them, situations like this can lead to unnecessary stress, confusion, and heartache.

04/27/2026

Last week, I had one of those moments that hit me in the gut.

I was at the park with my son, doing what we often do—walking the track while he rides in his adaptive stroller. He’s almost 15, and I’m aware of how it looks to others. We get the stares. From adults. From kids. I’ve come to understand them over the years—the quick glances that seem to say, “I wonder what happened,” or “I’m so grateful my child is healthy.”

And truthfully, I don’t take offense to that anymore. It’s human nature to notice what we don’t understand.

But then something different happened.

A little girl, maybe seven or eight, caught my eye. She lit up with the biggest, most genuine smile and waved enthusiastically. I smiled back and waved too, but then I realized something.

She wasn’t looking at me. She was looking straight at my son.

The way she looked at him…it wasn’t curiosity. It wasn’t hesitation. It wasn’t even awareness of difference.

It was connection.

She saw him as a peer. A friend. Someone worthy of a joyful, “Hi!” just because he was there.

My son didn’t notice—he was busy watching the other kids play—but I did.

And in that moment, I felt tears well up. That kind of pure, unfiltered kindness? It matters more than people realize.

We spend so much time bracing ourselves for the stares, explaining, advocating, navigating the hard, that when something this simple and this genuine happens, it cuts straight to your heart.

That little girl will never know what her smile and acknowledgement meant to me, but I’ll carry it with me for a long time.

And maybe this is the reminder we all need: A friendly smile costs nothing, but it can mean everything

04/14/2026

“We are all given a series of great opportunities disguised as impossible situations.”

If you’re parenting a child with special needs, you’ve likely lived this truth in real time. Because let’s be honest—so many moments on this path don’t feel like opportunities.

They feel like fear. Like grief. Like how am I supposed to do this?

I remember one of my “impossible situations” so clearly. My infant son began having atypical seizures just as I had returned to the classroom after maternity leave. As a teacher, I was trying to show up fully for my students while quietly unraveling inside as a mom.

It felt impossible to hold both. And eventually, I couldn’t. Life made the decision for me—I resigned and became a full-time stay-at-home mom.

At the time, it felt like a crisis. A loss of identity. A loss of income. A loss of the life I thought I was returning to.

But with time—and space to breathe—I began to see something different. That “impossible situation” gave me something I never would have chosen, but deeply needed: the ability to focus fully on my son…to learn him, advocate for him, be present for every moment, and later, to be there in the same way for my daughter.

Was it easy? Not even close.
Would I have chosen it? Probably not. But looking back, I can now see the opportunity that was hidden inside the upheaval.

✨ Sometimes the perspective shift doesn’t come in the moment.
✨ Sometimes it only comes after you’ve had time to pause…to process…to receive it.

If you’re in an “impossible situation” right now, this is your reminder:

You don’t have to see the opportunity yet. You just have to keep going. The meaning often reveals itself later.

04/10/2026

This morning in my journal, something simple, but powerful, came to me: So many of us in the medically complex parenting world are carrying an invisible weight of constant performance.

✅ Be the perfect advocate at school.
✅ Ask all the right questions at every doctor’s appointment.
✅ Show up fully for your spouse and your other children.
✅ Make time for self-care (but not too much, and definitely do it “right”).

It’s a relentless pressure to do it all—and do it well. And yet, somehow, it can still leave you feeling overwhelmed, dysregulated, and like you’re not actually succeeding at any of it.

What if the answer isn’t doing more, but learning how to PAUSE? A gentle rhythm I’m beginning to practice each day:

✨ P – Prayer
Ground yourself spiritually.
✨ A – Attune
Tune into your body and emotions.
Where do you feel tension? What is your nervous system trying to tell you?
✨ U – Uncover
Uncover what actually matters today.
What is truly essential vs. what is noise or pressure?
✨ S – Simplify
Simplify your plan.
What are 1–3 meaningful priorities you can focus on?
✨ E – Entrust
Release outcomes to God’s timing and plan.

This isn’t about getting it all right. It’s about coming back to center—again and again. Because you were never meant to carry all of this alone 🤍

04/08/2026

Have you ever noticed how harsh spring pruning looks? 🌱

I was driving through my neighborhood the other day, seeing trees and bushes cut all the way back—and it stopped me in my tracks because it got me thinking…

As parents of medically complex kids, we’re not so different from those plants that have been pruned back.

Branches cut back.
Shape completely changed.
Sometimes, almost unrecognizable.

To the untrained eye, it can look like the plant has been ruined. But it’s not destruction. It’s preparation.

Pruning makes space for light. It redirects energy. It allows something fuller and stronger to emerge in its season.

And if you’re parenting a medically complex child, you’ve likely felt this in your own life.

The systems.
The appointments.
The advocating.
The moments that leave you feeling stripped down to your core.

There are seasons where it feels like pieces of you are being cut away: your time, your ease, your sense of certainty— even parts of your identity. 💯

But something is happening beneath the surface.

You are cultivating:

🌱 Endurance you didn’t know you had
🌱 Clarity about what actually matters
🌱 A deeper, more grounded perspective
🌱 A version of you that is more intentional

It’s not easy and it’s not something you chose. But it is shaping you.

Inside The P.E.A.C.E. Protocol® for Medically Complex Parenting,
we create an Individualized Endurance Plan because no two families walk this path the same way.

So if this season feels like pruning,
trust that it’s not the end of your story. There is growth coming. There is beauty still unfolding.

And you are still becoming. 🪴

04/07/2026

April is Autism Acceptance Month, but spring in general reminds us of something important: flowers don’t bloom just because the calendar says it’s time. 🌷

They bloom when they’re ready.
After the right conditions.
In their own time.

And our children? They are no different. Acceptance doesn’t mean giving up hope. It doesn’t mean lowering expectations.

It means learning to truly see your child— who they are, how they experience the world, and what they need to thrive.

It means releasing the timelines, the comparisons, and the quiet pressure to make things happen on someone else’s schedule.

Because in autism, in development, in growth, skills don’t always show up when we expect them to, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t coming.

This April, instead of trying to do more, fix more, or push harder…

What if you focused on this:

✨ Meeting your child where they are
✨ Trusting their timeline (even when it stretches you)
✨ Giving yourself permission to navigate the path forward, without rushing it

This is the heart of Advanced Placement Parenting.

Growth is happening, even when you can’t see it yet. 🌱And when it blooms, it will be right on time.

03/24/2026

There’s a very specific kind of exhaustion that comes with advocating for your child.

It’s not just the meetings or the emails.
It’s the constant awareness that if you don’t stay on top of things, something important could slip through the cracks.

And right now, that load feels heavier. With the uncertainty around Medicaid and potential special education budget cuts, a lot of parents are quietly asking:

😬 What happens if services are reduced?

😬Will I have to fight even harder?

This kind of stress doesn’t just stay in your head. It lives in your body. 🎯

That low-level anxiety. The racing thoughts at night. The feeling that you can’t ever fully turn off— This is what I call Advanced Placement Parenting.

But here’s what matters most:

You don’t have to live in a constant state of fear to be an effective advocate.

When fear takes over, it drains your energy and clouds your clarity.

Try this instead:

When you feel the spiral starting, pause.
Hand on chest. Hand on stomach.
Inhale for 4. Hold for 4. Exhale for 6.

Then remind yourself:
“Right now, we are okay. I will handle what comes next, when it comes.”

You don’t have to solve everything today. Your child needs you grounded more than they need you panicked.

And whatever comes next, you will navigate the path forward, one steady step at a time.

03/10/2026

“Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes.”

That quote resonates deeply with so many parents in the special needs community because when it comes to advocating for your child, the stakes are incredibly high. You’re not just speaking up—you’re speaking up about your child’s education, services, safety, and future.

And sometimes your voice does shake. Not because you’re weak, but because you care SO much.

I’ve sat with countless parents who know exactly what their child needs, but feel overwhelmed in the moment—sitting across from a team of professionals, trying to hold back tears, trying to remember the right terminology, trying not to let emotion derail the conversation.

That’s where an advocate can help. 🎯

A good advocate doesn’t replace your voice, they support it. They help organize the information, understand the law, ask the right questions, and carry some of the heavy lifting so your emotions don’t have to compete with the advocacy itself.

When the conversation gets hard, they help keep it focused on what matters most: your child.

And here’s something that’s very important to me:

At It Takes a Village Special Needs Parent Coaching, we will never charge an initial consultation fee. 🚫

Why?

Because parents deserve free access to information that helps them advocate for their child. Period. Full stop.

Sometimes one conversation is all a parent needs to feel more confident walking into that next meeting. Families shouldn’t have to pay just to learn what their rights are or what their options might be.

Advocacy can feel intimidating, but you don’t have to navigate it alone.

Even if your voice shakes, we’ll help you use it. 💜

03/05/2026

Yesterday, I pressed publish on my first blog in almost a year. I’m a writer by inspiration, not schedule, so if and when the spirit moves me, I get to writing. ✍️

The blog, entitled “Becoming Someone Who Stays: How to Walk Others Through Emotional Pain,” shares my journey of getting comfy with the uncomfortable. It’s an ongoing process—are any of us ever really comfortable with emotional pain?—but I’ve learned some important lessons along the way and thought it would be better to share them so the pain isn’t for nothing.

This quote I stumbled upon today while reading “The Healed Empath” by Kristen Schwartz summed it up well. We can try to avoid pain all we want, but eventually we must face it so we can heal.

The link to my blog is here. ⤵️ I hope it’s helpful.

https://www.ittakesavillagenc.com/post/becoming-someone-who-stays-how-to-walk-others-through-emotional-pain

03/04/2026

New blog post is live! I hope it resonates with you. And if it does, I’d be so grateful if you shared it with someone who might need it, too.

The Unspoken UnfollowHard truth: A decade or so ago, I unfollowed an acquaintance on Facebook after she unexpectedly lost her daughter. The influx of grief-filled posts in my feed became too difficult to look at and clicking "unfollow" was a simple solution for shielding myself from the pain.Now bef...