Collage-style digital illustration in robin egg blue tones featuring a vintage stoplight, two shooting stars, and two lit candles. The elements are whole and softly textured, arranged with visual balance and emotional warmth.

📫 Letter No. 7: Buckle Up, Buttercup—Regulation Starts With Us

On August 9, 2025August 16, 2025 By Miss ReckoningIn boundaries & autonomy, cultural norms & emotional scripts, dear miss reckoning, emotional clarity & fictional advice, emotional exhaustion & societal pressure, emotional safety & reparenting, parent reckonings, raising humans, self-reflection and growth, unqualified wisdomLeave a comment

🔥 A Reckoning Non-Advice Letter 💌

✨ This one’s for the grown-ups staring at the Zones of Regulation chart on their fridge, 📊
wondering why they’re still rage-posting on Facebook. 💻😡

✨ It’s for the parents trying to raise regulated kids 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦
while barely holding it together themselves. 🫠

✨ Because regulation isn’t a chart—it’s a relationship. 💗
And it has to start with us. 🪞

✨ Regulation isn’t perfection—it’s never-ending repair. 🧩🛠️

💌 Dear Miss Reckoning,

I’m trying to raise emotionally regulated kids.
We’ve got the charts. The calm down corners. The breathing techniques.

But I’m still losing it.
I yell. shut down. I spiral.
And then I feel like a failure.

How do I teach regulation when I’m still learning it myself?

– Red Zone Mom

🪞 Dear Red Zone Mom,

Let’s start with the truth. 🧃

I feel you. 🫶

After raising two neurodiverse kids, 🧩 the whole family has been in so much therapy, 🛋️
there’s a Zones of Regulation chart on my fridge right now. 📌

I’m staring at it as I write this. 👀

For my generation, we didn’t grow up with color-coded charts. 📉
We grew up like the norm—
suppressing emotions and hiding trauma behind closed doors, 🚪
where society demanded all the bad stuff stayed. 🧳

Somewhere down the line, someone decided we should raise regulated kids. 📘
And they left it to us: chronically unregulated adults. 💣

🧸 Let’s real-talk about calm down corners.
A corner is a corner is a corner. 🪑
It used to be a kid would be sent to sit in the corner, 🧱
staring at the wall for an hour. ⏳

We collectively decided that wasn’t helping things. 🚫
So naturally, we chose another corner—a softer corner. 🧸
It feels like this should be a metaphor. 🪞
It’s not. 😬

Oh god—it’s real. 😱

Pillows and blankets and stuffed animals. 🧸
In a corner. 🪑
All to help a child calm down. 🌬️

Here’s a different question for adults. ❓
Always, no judgment: 🙅‍♀️

When Suzy at work throws you under the bus 👩‍💼
for a mistake she made and your boss blindsides you with a warning, ⚠️
what’s your first thought? 😤

Calm down corner? 🧸🪑
Would that be helpful? 😬

These suggestions aren’t bad. 📚
Do they work? ❓

I’m not saying calm down corners are a bad concept. 🚫
Maybe they work for some kids. 👧👦
But kids are tiny people. 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️

If it wouldn’t work for adults 🧓,
why are we expecting it to work for kids? 👶

And the adults giving these lessons? 🧑‍🏫
We don’t always know what we’re talking about. 🤷‍♀️

We’re asking an upset toddler if he’s in the red zone—🟥👶
then we’re losing our shit over getting a kid’s shoes on. 👟
(Although if you’ve ever tried to get a toddler’s shoes on, I don’t blame you 😤)

We’re telling a five-year-old to use their words—🗣️
then giving a family member the silent treatment for years. 🤐

The adults should learn regulation first. 🧠

It’s not easy. 😮‍💨

I’ve been working on it for ten years. 🔟
I finally stopped being so reactive 🛑
when I realized my kids were unknowingly hitting my trauma buttons. 🎯

I didn’t want to yell. 📢
I wanted to do gentle parenting—👩‍👧
or whatever the hell they were advocating that day. 📚
But I was pissed off a lot. 🤯

Now, after years of practice 🏋️, I can keep my calm. 🧘‍♀️
Mostly… 😏
I realized that yelling at my daughter for using permanent marker on the carpet 🧼
isn’t going to work. ❌

It won’t make our relationship better. 💔
It won’t prevent her from drawing on the carpet again. 🖍️

Do you know what does work? ✅

Being calm. 🧘‍♀️
Letting her think it through. 💭
Asking her questions. ❓

“Did it occur to you that was a bad idea?” 🤔
Sometimes she says “No” to things that are absolutely the worst ideas I’ve ever heard. 😳
It’s hard not to challenge her. 🧠
But she says it with such innocence. 😇

That’s when I remember—she’s learning. 🧠
I’m learning. 🧍‍♀️📖
I’m an adult, and I make mistakes. 💥

Some days at work, I use permanent marker all over those metaphorical walls. 🧱
I don’t need a chart to show me I’m in the red zone. 🟥
I know I’m in the red zone. 😤

But what am I going to do about it? 🔧

That’s where I can talk to my daughter. 👩‍👧
I’ve told her: “I make mistakes, too.
We all keep learning forever. That never stops.” 🔁

She is a tiny human. 👧
I’m a much larger human. 📏
At the core, we’re the same. 🫶

Neither of us likes to be yelled at in the morning. 📢🌅
So, I do my best to greet her with a friendly, relaxed demeanor 😊
when she gets out of bed. 🛏️

Sometimes, she starts yelling at me for no reason. 🙃
Unprovoked! I tell you. 😩
This last time, I learned I can last about an hour
of being calm and reasonable when she’s not. ⏳

Don’t get me wrong—that doesn’t mean passive. 🙅‍♀️
She lost her screen privileges very early on in this hour. 📱
But I didn’t yell. 🔇

I tried to work through that nightmare morning 😵
and get her freaking hair brushed 💇‍♀️
(which is apparently the equivalent of stealing all the things she holds dear). 📵

At the hour mark, I didn’t yell either. ⏳
I did say something like:
“Okay, now I’m mad. 😠
I don’t like being yelled at in the morning. 🌅 “
You don’t like being yelled at in the morning. 📢
We’ve talked about this. 🗣️
We agreed to try to do better. 🤝
And you’re yelling at me. 😤
I am mad now. 😠
I have my limits. 🚧
And I’m going upstairs now.” 🏃‍♀️

Back to regulating. 🧠
Learning to regulate isn’t a chart. ❌
It’s a relationship. 💞

It has to start with us. 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️
There’s no cheat sheet for the fridge. 📄
There’s no magic formula ✨
you can read in a book. 📚

The hard part? 😣
It’s a two-way street. 🚦
You can’t regulate if one of you is unregulated. 🌀

So, I’ll say to you what I say to my kids every time we get in the car: 🚗
“Buckle up, buttercup.” 😅
Yeah, they hate it, too. 🤭

It’s a long ride. 🎢
But it’s worth it. 🌟
You’re doing great. 🙌
You’re doing your best. 💪

Sometimes society has impossible standards. 🧱
The fact that you’re writing this letter means you care. 📝
We’ll all keep working on this together. 🧑‍🤝‍🧑

Scorched, signed, sent,
🔥🖊️💌

-Miss Reckoning

As always, your unqualified, non-professional, non-advice friend

Note from Miss:
I’ve sought a lot of professional help, and I’ve found it beneficial in my own recovery. Please always seek what you need from professional avenues.

But know, you’re never alone here.

This post is for emotional reflection and storytelling purposes only. It is not professional advice.

[See full disclaimers here]

Two ceramic mugs labeled “best” and “friends” sit side by side in the center of the image against a soft, muted background. The mugs evoke warmth, simplicity, and emotional connection.

📫 Letter No. 6: Kindness Can be a Learned Skill

On August 4, 2025August 9, 2025 By Miss ReckoningIn boundaries & autonomy, cultural norms & emotional scripts, dear miss reckoning, emotional clarity & fictional advice, emotional exhaustion & societal pressure, emotional safety & reparenting, parent reckonings, self-reflection and growthLeave a comment

🔥 A Reckoning Non-Advice Letter 💌

✨ This one’s for anyone who’s ever felt flawed for not gifting the right mug or thinking of the compliment to say in real-time—and wondered if they were wired differently. 🧠

✨ Thoughtfulness isn’t a personality trait. It’s a learned skill. 🛠️

✨ This post challenges the myth of “natural kindness” and suggests building kindness one mirror note at a time. 🪞

✨ “I didn’t mean to” isn’t an excuse. But it could be an entry point. This letter explores how intentionality can rewrite thoughtlessness into something we all can do. 💌

💌 Dear Miss Reckoning,

The other day I got in a huge fight with my best friend and she called me thoughtless. It was one of those times where I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’ve noticed I can be kind of thoughtless. It seems to come easy to my friend to send nice notes and pick me up funny mugs because it reminded her of me.

I guess my brain doesn’t work that way.

What do you think?

– Reluctantly Thoughtless

🪞 Dear Reluctantly Thoughtless,

First off, I just want to say—
It can be hard when people we love or care about say things
that hurt and stick in our brain for a long time. 🧠💔

I still remember when an ex called me a “monster.” 👹
Sometimes when I make mistakes, that label still enters my brain
and I wonder if it’s true. 😞

I completely relate to this concept of being “thoughtless”
or not naturally kind.
It’s hard work for me. 💪

We’ve actually been talking about this in my house a lot lately.
I have three kids, but I’m going to focus on two:

👦 My youngest son—age four—is naturally kind.
He gives me compliments all the time like:
“I like your make up, mommy”… “I like your dress.” And he means them. 💖
He tells me he loves me all the time, and he’s a cuddler. 🤗

🧑 My oldest son—age ten—is different.
I’m not saying he’s un-kind.
He just doesn’t think about giving compliments or telling me he loves me, and he’s never been that personality.

When I tell him I love him?
He says “Okay.” 😐

Both sons are amazing.
I would never change either one of them. 🫶

But recently, my oldest son started being very snarky. 😒
He had a mean comment for everything everyone in the house said.

When I talked to him about it, he said it was part of his personality.

And I told him… I would never change his personality.
But being kind is a learned skill. 🛠️ ✨

It comes easier for some people than others.
So we’ve decided to work on building kindness as a skill in the family. 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

He just called his sister “dummy” in the other room as I write this,
so we’re still working on it… 🙃
(For the record, I tell them not to use that word—
not that it really seems to matter…) 😅

Anyway, in my opinion, the most important thing to do is live our authentic selves.

At almost 40, I’m trying to do this now maybe for the first time in my life. ✨ 🌱
I’m not going to naturally think of doing nice things for people.

But I can write myself a post-it note on my mirror 🪞 📝
that gives me ideas to do certain things for people—
just to remind them they’re special. 💡 💕

Me on the other hand?
I got the person who called me a monster out of my life. 🧹
Not everyone gets to take my emotional energy. 🚫 🧘

But it’s also good to listen to the people who love us sometimes,
if we think what they’re saying resonates.
It’s up to you if you take it to heart or not though. 🌈

🔍 Sometimes I have to reckon with the way my brain works.
But then I realize—I’m not being very kind to myself.
That’s probably the first skill to build.
That’s probably the first step. 💗

Maybe thoughtfulness isn’t instinctual—it’s intentional.

And that counts. 🦋

Scorched, signed, sent,
🔥 ✒️ 💌

-Miss Reckoning

As always, your unqualified, non-professional, non-advice friend

This post is for emotional reflection and storytelling purposes only. It is not professional advice.

[See full disclaimers here]

Three trampolines, one sunshine, and three parachutes arranged on a textured teal background. The elements float and overlap like layered metaphors—bounce, fall, and light-seeking—capturing emotional movement.

📬 Letter No. 3: Resilience Bouncing—When It’s a Freefall

On July 25, 2025July 26, 2025 By Miss ReckoningIn boundaries & autonomy, cultural norms & emotional scripts, dear miss reckoning, emotional clarity & fictional advice, parent reckonings, raising humans, self-reflection and growthLeave a comment

🔥 A Reckoning Non-Advice Letter 💌

✨ When adults say “kids bounce back,” this letter asks: How many bounces until the trampoline breaks and it’s a freefall? 🪂

✨ This one’s for anyone who’s watched a child struggle and then wondered: Is survival being mistaken for resilience? 💔🔁

✨ Resilience isn’t a magic trick. It’s a tricky landing, sometimes painful, often brave. This post chooses presence for the landing over performance. 🧘‍♀️

✨ “They seem fine” is not the whole story. Still water hides danger. This letter explores how to land gently. 🌊🫶

💌 Dear Miss Reckoning,

I’ve been thinking about how often adults say “kids bounce back.” It’s used after family problems, school changes, social drama… pretty much anything inconvenient. But sometimes I wonder if that phrase is more comforting for the adults than it is accurate for the kids.

What do you think?

— Just Asking

🪞 Dear Just Asking,

I’m glad you asked. Because I’ve been thinking about this, too.

I recently went through a hard time. I tried to protect my kids. But one way-too-adult comment from my eight-year-old had me double taking. And then completely baffled on how to respond to her. 🤯

I think building resilience in kids is important.
It’s a skill we can all learn every day.

But here’s the thing and where I landed on this:

🌀 We say “kids bounce back”…
But who’s watching the second bounce?
Or the third?
Or the moment the trampoline finally gives out? 🪂

💥 Because bouncing once might be strength.
🔁 Bouncing twice might be learned survival.
🕳️ Bouncing forever? That’s not resilience anymore. That’s a freefall.

I do believe adults love the idea that children just absorb disruption and magically reorganize around it.
School transfers? They’ll adjust.
Friend drama? Normal—they’ll figure it out.
Break-ups? They’re young—time heals.

Sometimes I haven’t always handled things like I wish I had.
I know life happens. Mistakes happen.
We can’t live in shame and regret as adults if we didn’t get it right in every moment.
That’s definitely not the answer.

But healing for kids isn’t automatic. 🩹
And resilience isn’t infinite. ♾️
We don’t get to assign emotional gymnastic routines 🤸
and assume every child sticks the landing.

We say, “They seem fine.”
But did we look beneath the surface?
Still water doesn’t mean safe water. 🌊🚨

Sometimes, beneath the mask of coping 🎭, kids are quietly scripting their understanding of life without us even realizing it, until one too-adult-comment:

“This is how things go.”
“This is how people treat each other.” 🫥
“This is what love feels like.” 💔

They’re absorbing and adapting—but not always the way we hope.

So what’s the alternative?
How do we move forward when life doesn’t stop happening?
Sometimes we can’t control the bad stuff that happens.
We as adults have to be resilient.

The answer isn’t bubble-wrapping kids. 🫧
It’s telling the truth.
Being present. 🫶
But not performative presence.

It’s sitting down with my kid and admitting:
I made a mistake. I’m human.
I’m going to keep trying to do better—for myself and for you.

Not just hoping they bounce
but being there when they land.
Even if the landing is messy.
Especially if it’s messy.
Especially if it’s uncomfortable for us.

Because kids can be resilient. 💪
But they shouldn’t have to be all the time. ⌛

Sometimes the bravest thing a parent can do
is stop bouncing themselves.
To choose stillness. 🧘
To choose presence.
To look their kid in the eyes and say:
“I know that was hard. I see you. I’m still here.”

That’s not a bounce.
That’s a reckoning.
And it’s the beginning of repair. 🌱

Asking the question is enough. Sitting with it is a start. Living more thoughtfully is the goal.

Scorched, signed, sent,
🔥 🖋️ 💌

-Miss Reckoning

As always, your unqualified, non-professional, non-advice friend

This post is for emotional reflection and storytelling purposes only. It is not professional advice.

[See full disclaimers here]

Dear Miss Reckoning,

Category: parent reckonings

📫 Letter No. 7: Buckle Up, Buttercup—Regulation Starts With Us

🔥 A Reckoning Non-Advice Letter 💌