Co-Parenting Chronicles: The Battle of Bedtime (and Other Tiny Hills We Die On) (Part 4)
Nothing exposes the absurdity of high-conflict parenting like bedtime.
Parent A: “The kids go to bed at 8:00 sharp.”
Parent B: “They’re fine until 8:30.”
Result? A three-day standoff, complete with footnotes and accusations about circadian rhythms.
The Story
Bedtime, snacks, screen time…these small details can turn into World War III. Why? Because they feel like they have control. And in high-conflict cases, control is the battlefield.
But here’s the truth: your child’s emotional health depends far less on whether they go to bed at 8:00 or 8:30—and far more on whether they’re shielded from ongoing parental conflict.
The Lesson
Pick your battles. Some things matter deeply (health, safety, school). Others, like a 30-minute bedtime gap, are not worth the war.
The trick is asking yourself: “Will this matter in five years?”
If the answer is no, let it go.
Survival Tip
Think “big rocks” vs. “pebbles.” Save your energy for the big rocks: education, medical needs, safety. Let the pebbles—like mismatched socks or five extra minutes of screen time roll by.
Why It Matters
Children thrive when their parents focus on stability, not perfection. A rigid bedtime won’t protect them from conflict, but your ability to let go of unnecessary battles will.
Final Thought
As both a therapist and a co-parent, I’ve seen this play out: parents exhausted from fighting over small details forget to celebrate the big picture. The real win isn’t getting your way about bedtime; it’s showing your kids that even when parents disagree, they can choose peace.
By Jessica Oliver, LCSW | Founder, Peaceful Pastures Ranch & Calm in Chaos
About the Author
Jessica Oliver, LCSW, is a trauma therapist, hypnotherapist, and Florida Supreme Court Certified Family Mediator. She is the founder of Peaceful Pastures Therapy and Calm in Chaos Mediation. Her work bridges the gap between emotional healing and legal conflict resolution, helping individuals and families navigate anxiety, trauma, and transition with compassion, clarity, and grounded tools.
🔗 www.peacefulpasturesranch.org
🔗 www.calminchaos.net
Co-Parenting Chronicles: The Silent Olympics (Part 3)
We’ve all seen it or lived it: the Silent Olympics.
Two parents are at opposite ends of the football field. Both are cheering for the same child. Neither is making eye contact. The tension was so thick you could cut it with the snack bar’s plastic nacho cheese spoon.
The Story
One parent waves enthusiastically as the kid runs onto the field. The other parent claps from 30 yards away, pretending not to see. Everyone is watching the kids, but the subtext is loud: “I refuse to acknowledge you exist.”
It’s awkward. It’s petty. And yes…it’s common.
The Lesson
Parallel parenting in public isn’t failure; it’s a strategy. When emotions are high, silence can be safer than forced small talk. Your kids don’t need you chatting with your ex; they need to see you both showing up.
Survival Tip
Cheer for your kid, not against your ex.
Keep your eyes on the game, not the bleachers.
If small talk isn’t possible, let your body language say what matters: “I’m here for you, kid.”
Why It Matters
Children notice when both parents show up, even if you’re sitting on opposite sides of the field. It still sends the message: “You matter enough for both of us to be here.” That’s powerful.
The silence may feel heavy to you, but to your child, your presence is what counts.
Final Thought
The Silent Olympics aren’t about winning; they’re about showing up. One day, your child won’t remember the awkward silence. They’ll remember that both parents were in the stands, cheering for them.
By Jessica Oliver, LCSW | Founder, Peaceful Pastures Ranch & Calm in Chaos
About the Author
Jessica Oliver, LCSW, is a trauma therapist, hypnotherapist, and Florida Supreme Court Certified Family Mediator. She is the founder of Peaceful Pastures Therapy and Calm in Chaos Mediation. Her work bridges the gap between emotional healing and legal conflict resolution, helping individuals and families navigate anxiety, trauma, and transition with compassion, clarity, and grounded tools.
🔗 www.peacefulpasturesranch.org
🔗 www.calminchaos.net
Co-Parenting Chronicles: The Kid Commentary (Part 2)
Kids don’t mean to stir the pot. They just…report the news. Usually at the worst possible time.
Picture this:
Your child, grinning innocently, says: “Dad says you don’t iron clothes.”
Five minutes later, “Mom says you don’t even own a calendar.”
Congratulations…you’ve just been roasted by your own child.
The Story
Children are natural observers and unfiltered messengers. They don’t come with a “how will this land emotionally?” filter. So when they repeat what they’ve heard, it can sting—because it’s usually said without context.
As a co-parent and step-parent, I’ve been on both ends of this. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s frustrating, and sometimes it’s a reminder that kids shouldn’t have to be the go-between.
The Lesson
When kids drop commentary from the “other house,” it’s rarely about you. It’s about them trying to process the two worlds they live in.
Your best response? Neutrality.
Don’t defend.
Don’t retaliate.
Don’t make your child feel like they’re carrying a message between camps.
Survival Tip
Try humor and honesty, without the bite. For example:
“You’re right, I don’t iron. Wrinkles are my style.”
or
“Yeah, I forget things sometimes. That’s why we use the calendar app.”
It acknowledges the comment without turning your child into the messenger or making them feel like they need to pick sides.
Why It Matters
Every time you respond calmly to “kid commentary,” you teach your child they don’t have to manage the tension between two parents. That is not their job. Neutral, light responses lift the burden from their shoulders.
Final Thought
Co-parenting isn’t just about how you deal with your ex—it’s about how you protect your child from carrying conflict. When you can smile, laugh, and let the commentary pass, you show your kids that even if their parents don’t always agree, they’re still safe in both worlds.
By Jessica Oliver, LCSW | Founder, Peaceful Pastures Ranch & Calm in Chaos
About the Author
Jessica Oliver, LCSW, is a trauma therapist, hypnotherapist, and Florida Supreme Court Certified Family Mediator. She is the founder of Peaceful Pastures Therapy and Calm in Chaos Mediation. Her work bridges the gap between emotional healing and legal conflict resolution, helping individuals and families navigate anxiety, trauma, and transition with compassion, clarity, and grounded tools.
🔗 www.peacefulpasturesranch.org
🔗 www.calminchaos.net
Co-Parenting Chronicles: Surviving the Chaos (part 1)
Part 1: The Memoir-Worthy Text
High-conflict co-parenting is not for the faint of heart. One minute you’re asking a simple question about soccer practice, and the next you’re reading a 900-word essay about how you’ve ruined Halloween three years in a row.
It’s exhausting. It’s ridiculous. And sometimes…it’s unintentionally hilarious.
In today’s Chronicle, let’s talk about The Memoir-Worthy Text—you know, the one so long, so dramatic, so wildly off-topic that you almost want to forward it to a publisher.
The Story
One parent sends: “What time is pickup?”
The other responds: “Since you’re asking, let’s revisit our entire divorce, my thoughts on your new haircut, and by the way, you were five minutes late in 2016 and I still haven’t recovered.”
If you’ve been here, you know. If you haven’t—congratulations, you’ve hit the co-parenting lotto.
The Lesson
Not every text deserves a reaction. In fact, most don’t. The trick is to separate the signal from the noise:
Ignore the drama.
Respond only to the actual question.
Save the rest for your therapist, your journal, or your group chat (trust me, it’s group chat gold).
It sounds simple, but when emotions are running high, it takes real discipline to stay neutral. Maybe a few rewrites of that message.
Survival Tip
Use the “work email” rule: pretend you’re writing to your boss. Short, boring, professional. No sass. No shade.
Boring texts don’t escalate conflict; they end it. And in high-conflict parenting, boring is beautiful.
Why It Matters
Here’s the part that often gets overlooked: kids notice everything. They pick up on tone, tension, and whether communication between their parents feels like a boxing match or a business memo. When you choose boring, neutral responses, you’re not just saving yourself drama…you’re lowering the emotional temperature in your child’s world.
And let’s be real: someday, those screenshots might resurface in a courtroom, in a custody review, or in a professional evaluation. Neutral, respectful responses protect you and your children, both in the moment and in the long run.
Final Thought
I can say this both as a therapist/parenting coordinator and as someone who has lived through co-parenting and step-parenting: it’s hard. It’s messy. But every time you refuse to get pulled into the chaos, you model resilience for your kids.
You don’t have to respond to the whole memoir. Sometimes, the most powerful response is a single, calm line that says: “Pickup is at 6.”
Because calm in the chaos isn’t just the name of this practice—it’s the survival strategy.
By Jessica Oliver, LCSW | Founder, Peaceful Pastures Ranch & Calm in Chaos
About the Author
Jessica Oliver, LCSW, is a trauma therapist, hypnotherapist, and Florida Supreme Court Certified Family Mediator. She is the founder of Peaceful Pastures Therapy and Calm in Chaos Mediation. Her work bridges the gap between emotional healing and legal conflict resolution, helping individuals and families navigate anxiety, trauma, and transition with compassion, clarity, and grounded tools.
🔗 www.peacefulpasturesranch.org
🔗 www.calminchaos.net
When "Stuck" Isn't a Symptom, it's a Signal
When “Stuck” Isn’t a symptom, its a signal.
We've all been there.
That moment in life, work, or healing when everything just… stops. The motivation dries up. The clarity disappears. The tools you used to rely on suddenly feel dull. And suppose you're like many of the people I work with, whether in therapy or mediation. In that case, you might name the experience like this:
"I feel stuck."
It's one of the most common phrases I hear and one of the most misunderstood.
In therapy, "stuck" often shows up as anxiety, burnout, or shame.
In mediation, it often looks like defensiveness, stonewalling, or chronic conflict.
But here's the truth I've come to recognize across both fields:
Feeling stuck isn't a personal failure. It's an inner alarm that your current strategy has run its course.
The Strategies That Got Us Here
The clients I serve, from high-achieving professionals to hurting families, often arrive with remarkable resilience. They've adapted, survived, and pushed through trauma, conflict, and change. But many of those survival strategies were built in moments of urgency, not alignment.
Some learned to please others to avoid rejection.
Some learned to over-function to maintain control.
Some learned to emotionally shut down to stay safe.
These patterns helped them survive. But eventually, what once protected us begins to confine us. And that's when the stuckness sets in.
"Stuck" is Not the End, it's the Invitation
When a client tells me they're stuck, I don't try to fix it right away. I don't rush them toward goals or positive affirmations. Instead, I invite them to get curious.
What part of you is keeping you here?
What's it afraid might happen if you move forward?
What does it need to feel safe enough to shift?
As you read this, I want you to pause and get curious. Is there any area where you currently feel stuck? Is the anxiety too high? The overwhelm feels never-ending?
In therapy, we might explore this using trauma-informed tools, somatic grounding, inner child healing, or hypnotherapy. In mediation, we might uncover emotional undercurrents driving legal conflict, grief, identity shifts, and attachment wounds and create a space where resolution feels possible, not forced.
Because stuckness, when listened to, becomes a signal.
It tells us: 'There's something here worth pausing for.'
There's a pattern to examine, a belief to rewrite, or a wound to tend to before we try to move again.
From Stuck to Shift
Sometimes, people ask me how they'll know when they're no longer stuck. The answer isn't always a big breakthrough. More often, it's subtle:
A deeper breath.
A moment of calm in the chaos.
A willingness to consider a new possibility, however small.
The first sign of forward movement is often the return of curiosity.
Whether I'm sitting in a therapy office, the pasture with the horses, or a mediation room, that's the moment I look for the moment someone starts to trust themselves again, even just a little.
An Invitation to You
If you feel stuck in your healing, relationship, career, or identity...I want to gently remind you:
You're not broken; you're building.
You don't need to push harder.
You need to listen deeper.
"Stuck" may not be a symptom of failure. It may signify readiness to evolve, rest, unlearn, and realign.
And if you're unsure where to begin, that's okay, too.
Sometimes, the first shift begins simply by saying, "I'm ready to see this differently."
Let's continue the conversation:
Have you ever felt stuck in a way that led to growth or change?
What strategies once protected you that no longer serve you?
What helps you feel safe enough to move forward?
By Jessica Oliver, LCSW | Founder, Peaceful Pastures Ranch & Calm in Chaos
About the Author
Jessica Oliver, LCSW, is a trauma therapist, hypnotherapist, and Florida Supreme Court Certified Family Mediator. She is the founder of Peaceful Pastures Therapy and Calm in Chaos Mediation. Her work bridges the gap between emotional healing and legal conflict resolution, helping individuals and families navigate anxiety, trauma, and transition with compassion, clarity, and grounded tools.
🔗 www.peacefulpasturesranch.org
🔗 www.calminchaos.net