I’ve been reading Becky Kennedy’s Good Inside, and I’m starting to wonder if she secretly wrote it for me and H. Honestly, I should probably check the dedication just to confirm.

Because every chapter feels like it was designed for our daily battles: me, trying to be calm and intentional; H, testing the boundaries like she’s preparing for a Supreme Court case.

Dr. Becky’s central message — that our kids are good inside even when their behavior looks anything but — has been both comforting and challenging. Comforting, because I want to believe it. Challenging, because when H looks me straight in the eye while ignoring my very clear instructions, it’s hard to remember the “good inside” part.

This is where my mindfulness practice sneaks in. Thích Nhất Hạnh once said:

“When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you don’t blame the lettuce.

You look for reasons it is not doing well.

It may need fertilizer, or more water, or less sun.

You never blame the lettuce.”

When H is in full “contumacious mode,” I try to remember: she’s not the problem. She’s showing me where she needs more water, more patience, more space to grow. And maybe, just maybe, she’s showing me where I need to grow too.

It’s not easy. Sometimes my first instinct is to react — to lecture, to raise my voice, to mutter something about selling her to the circus. But when I pause, breathe, and remember that she’s good inside (and so am I), the moment shifts. It becomes less about control and more about connection.

Because the truth is, she’s strong. She knows what she wants. And as exhausting as it feels now, I know that strength will serve her well one day. For now, I’m just grateful Becky Kennedy keeps reminding me to see it that way — and that mindfulness keeps me from turning into a yelling banshee before bedtime.

Convos with H: Good Inside… and Still Stressing Mom Out

This morning I decided to take my mindfulness practice up a notch and make myself a breakfast smoothie. H was watching closely, asking about every ingredient like she was the host of a cooking show.

When I added ashwagandha root — which is supposed to reduce stress and anxiety — she looked at me deadpan and said:

H: “Not sure that is working.”

So maybe the smoothie hasn’t kicked in yet. Or maybe the real stress-reducer is learning to laugh at myself… preferably before I’ve had my coffee.