Jackson: Alright, Olivia, I have a confession. My parenting style last night could best be described as 'frustrated auctioneer yelling numbers at a confused audience.' Olivia: Let me guess, the 'numbers' were 'put your shoes on,' 'eat your dinner,' and 'for the love of all that is holy, go to sleep'? Jackson: Exactly. It wasn't my finest hour. There was yelling, some dramatic sighing on my part, and a general feeling that I was failing a test I didn't study for. Olivia: Well, you're in good company. Today we’re diving into a book that feels like a permission slip to be human: How to Stop Losing Your Shit With Your Kids by Carla Naumburg. Jackson: The title alone is a masterpiece of relatability. Olivia: It really is. And what's incredible is that Naumburg isn't just a writer; she's a PhD clinical social worker with a background in mindfulness. The book was born from her own moment of desperation, where she, the expert, found herself at home with her two young daughters, completely overwhelmed, and literally googled 'how to stop yelling at my kids.' Jackson: That right there is everything. The expert admitting she's in the same boat. It just dissolves so much of the shame that comes with those 'frustrated auctioneer' moments. Olivia: Precisely. She argues that this isn't a personal failing. It's a universal experience. And that’s really the first big idea we need to tackle: understanding why we lose it in the first place.

Jackson: Okay, so where do we even start? Why is this so universal? I always feel like I'm the only one who just can't keep it together. Olivia: That feeling of isolation is exactly what she targets first. The book opens with what she calls six truths to help parents feel less ashamed. The first two are foundational: One, parenting is hard for everyone, regardless of what their Instagram feed looks like. And two, every single parent loses their temper sometimes. Jackson: I need that embroidered on a pillow. The idea that it's not just me, that it's a feature of the system and not a bug in my own programming, is a huge relief. Olivia: It is. And she gives a really useful framework for what a 'freak-out' even is. She uses the acronym FART. Jackson: You're kidding. Olivia: I am not. It stands for Feelings, Automatic, Reactive, and Toxic. It's driven by strong Feelings, not logic. It's Automatic, happening before you can think. It's Reactive, a response to a trigger. And it's Toxic, meaning it's hurtful and creates disconnection. Jackson: 'Toxic' sounds harsh. I mean, I yell, but I don't feel like I'm being toxic. Does she explain what that means? Olivia: She does, and it's a great point. She clarifies that 'toxic' doesn't just mean throwing things. It can be a silent stare, a sarcastic comment, or shutting down completely. It's anything that makes your child feel unsafe, unseen, or scared. It’s about the emotional poison in the interaction, not just the volume. Jackson: Huh. That broadens the definition quite a bit. I can definitely see myself in the 'sarcastic comment' or 'dramatic sigh' category. So, if it's this common, why do we feel so much guilt? Olivia: Because we tell ourselves unhelpful stories. Naumburg shares this funny anecdote about her daughter hitting her sister. When she asked why, the daughter spun this wild tale about a monkey throwing a banana that made her arm move on its own. Jackson: That sounds about right for a kid's explanation. Olivia: Exactly. And Naumburg's point is that we adults do the same thing. We tell ourselves stories to make sense of our behavior. Stories like, 'I'm a bad parent,' or 'My kid is a jerk.' But these stories are just as nonsensical as the monkey-banana one, and they're unhelpful because they offer no path forward. Jackson: So what's the more helpful story? Olivia: The more helpful story is that you are a human being trying to do an incredibly difficult job, often without the right support, resources, or rest. She tells this powerful story about having dinner with Canadian friends. A pregnant woman was casually listing her benefits: a year of paid maternity leave, subsidized childcare... Jackson: A whole year? Paid? That sounds like a fairy tale. Olivia: Right? And Naumburg's point is that in many places, parents are trying to do this job with a severe lack of systemic support. We're exhausted, we're isolated, and we're bombarded with information from our phones that spikes our anxiety. She had this incident where a partial news notification on her phone about a 'state of emergency' sent her into a panic, and she snapped at her kids. It turned out to be about the opioid crisis, not an imminent disaster, but her nervous system was already hijacked. Jackson: I totally get that. You're already running on empty, and then the world adds this layer of constant, low-grade panic. So, the idea is to stop blaming ourselves and start looking at the actual triggers. Olivia: Exactly. It's about shifting from 'What's wrong with me?' to 'What's going on with me?'. The book argues there are no 'bad' parents, only struggling parents. And that's where self-compassion comes in. But I know what you might be thinking... Jackson: Yeah, I am. I get the self-compassion part, but isn't there a risk of just letting yourself off the hook? I mean, I still yelled. Where's the accountability in just saying, 'Oh well, society is hard'? Olivia: That's the perfect question. And she addresses it head-on. Self-compassion isn't an excuse. It's the fuel for change. Beating yourself up just adds another layer of stress, making you more likely to lose it next time. Accountability comes from getting curious about why you lost it and then making a concrete plan to do things differently. It's about taking responsibility for managing your own triggers, which is a much more powerful form of accountability than just stewing in guilt. Jackson: Okay, that makes sense. Guilt is passive, but curiosity is active. So, if we understand the 'why,' that we're all struggling humans in a tough system, that leads to the big question... what's the actual how? How do we fix it?

Olivia: Well, the 'how' is where the book gets incredibly practical and, honestly, a bit counterintuitive. Naumburg starts by debunking a lot of the typical, unhelpful advice out there. She tells this hilarious story about reading a suggestion that when you feel like yelling at your kids, you should go yell into the toilet instead. Jackson: Yell into the toilet? Who comes up with this stuff? I can just picture my toddler following me into the bathroom, wondering why Daddy is screaming at the porcelain god. That would probably be more traumatizing than the yelling. Olivia: Precisely her point! The advice was totally impractical for her life with a potty-training toddler and another in diapers. It highlights that a lot of parenting advice isn't one-size-fits-all. Her approach is about building a system that works in the real, messy world. Jackson: A system. I like the sound of that. It implies it's something you can build, not just a personality trait you either have or you don't. Olivia: That's the core of it. She calls them "Button Reduction Practices," or BuRPs for short. Jackson: BuRPs. Okay, she has a knack for acronyms. What are they? Olivia: They are the foundational, non-negotiable practices for managing stress. The big ones are sleep, support, self-compassion, and the one I want to focus on because it's so transformative: single-tasking. Jackson: Hold on. Single-tasking? My entire life is a monument to multitasking. I make breakfast while answering emails while mediating a fight over a toy dinosaur. How is single-tasking even possible for a parent? Olivia: This is the big, counterintuitive insight. She argues that multitasking is a myth. What we're actually doing is switch-tasking—rapidly shifting our attention from one thing to another. And research shows it tanks our efficiency and skyrockets our stress levels. Jackson: I can believe the stress part. I often end up with burnt toast, a half-written email, and two still-crying kids. Olivia: Exactly. She shares this great story about her husband. She noticed that after she spent a day alone with their daughters, she was a wreck—exhausted and grumpy. But when her husband was with them, he was calm, and the kids were happy. The only difference? The house was a complete disaster. Jackson: Ah, I see where this is going. Olivia: She realized she was constantly multitasking—trying to parent and clean, tidy, and manage the household all at once. Her husband, on the other hand, just focused on the kids. He single-tasked. He played with them. The mess could wait. When she adopted his approach, her stress levels plummeted. The house was messier, but the family was happier. Jackson: That is a powerful reframe. The goal isn't a clean house; the goal is a sane parent. But what about mental multitasking? My body can be doing one thing, like pushing a swing, but my brain is running through a dozen worries at once. Olivia: That's the next level. She says that's absolutely a form of multitasking. She gives the example of teaching a kid to ride a bike. You're not just holding the bike; you're scanning for cars, you're worrying if they'll ever get it, you're comparing them to the neighbor's kid who's already doing tricks. All that mental noise is a trigger. Single-tasking means bringing your mind to the task at hand, too. Jackson: Okay, so the BuRPs are about reducing the overall stress load before the difficult moments happen. It’s proactive, not reactive. Olivia: Exactly. It's about making your buttons smaller and less sensitive, so they're harder for your kids to push. And they will push them. She says kids are professional button-pushers by definition; their brains are still under construction. Your job isn't to stop them from pushing, it's to manage your own control panel. Jackson: So what happens when you're in the moment? The kid has just dumped a full bowl of cereal on the floor, the dog is licking it up, and you can feel the volcano about to erupt. The BuRPs are great, but what do you do right then? Olivia: That's the final piece of the system. It's a three-step mantra: Notice, Pause, and Do Literally Anything Else. Jackson: Do literally anything else? Olivia: Literally. The first step, 'Notice,' is the superpower. You have to develop the self-awareness to recognize the physical and mental signs that you're about to lose it. A clenched jaw, racing thoughts, shallow breathing. If you don't notice you're on the verge, you can't choose to step back. Jackson: But that's the hardest part! When I'm that worked up, noticing is the last thing on my mind. I'm just… in it. Olivia: And that's why she says you have to practice when it's easy. Practice noticing when you're calm. Lying in bed, feel the sheets. Drinking coffee, taste the coffee. You're building the 'noticing' muscle so it's strong enough to work under pressure. Jackson: Okay, so you notice. Then what? 'Pause.' Olivia: Pause. This creates a circuit breaker between the trigger and your automatic reaction. It can be a deep breath. It can be walking out of the room. It's a temporary break, not a permanent stop. You're not avoiding the problem; you're just refusing to deal with it from a hijacked state of mind. Jackson: And then 'Do Literally Anything Else.' Olivia: Anything that isn't yelling. Put on music. Splash water on your face. Run around the house. She tells a story about a mom who would run a lap around her house to burn off the adrenaline. Another taped a happy photo of her kids inside a kitchen cabinet, and when she felt herself getting angry, she'd open the cabinet and look at it. The point is to break the cycle and calm your nervous system. The spilled cereal can be dealt with in five minutes, once you're calm. Jackson: Wow. It sounds so simple, but it also feels revolutionary. It's not about being a better person through sheer willpower. It's about having a better system.

Olivia: It is. And that really connects the two big ideas we've talked about. The real shift here isn't about becoming a perfect, zen parent who never gets angry. It's about seeing your anger as a signal—a dashboard light. Jackson: I like that analogy. The light isn't the problem; it's telling you there is a problem. Olivia: Exactly. Our first topic, 'The Why,' helps you understand what the light means. It’s telling you you’re exhausted, you’re unsupported, you’re triggered by something from your own past. It’s data, not a moral failing. Jackson: And the second topic, 'The How,' gives you the toolkit to actually check the engine instead of just putting a piece of black tape over the warning light. Olivia: Precisely. The BuRPs are your regular maintenance. The 'Notice, Pause, Do Literally Anything Else' is your emergency roadside kit. It’s a complete system for responding to yourself with curiosity and compassion, instead of judgment. Jackson: For me, the biggest thing is the idea of practicing 'noticing' when I'm not stressed. Like, just noticing the feeling of my coffee cup in the morning, or the sound of the birds outside. It feels small, almost silly, but I can see how that builds the muscle for when things get tough. It's a tiny investment in future calm. Olivia: It's such a powerful, simple idea. And it's a practice of self-compassion in itself. The book won a Caregiver Friendly Award, and you can see why. It’s designed for people on the front lines of care who are running on fumes. Jackson: It really feels like a lifeline. It's not just another book telling you what you're doing wrong. It's a book that sits down with you in the mess and says, 'Okay, this is hard. Let's figure it out together.' Olivia: And that's a message every parent needs to hear. It makes me think, we'd love to hear from our listeners. What's one tiny thing you do to create a moment of pause in a chaotic day? Whether it's a deep breath, a favorite song, or staring at a picture on your phone. Let us know on our socials. Jackson: I'm definitely going to be trying the 'notice my coffee cup' thing tomorrow morning. It's a start. Olivia: A perfect start. The goal is progress, not perfection. Jackson: This is Aibrary, signing off.