by Jessie Cooper | Sep 25, 2026
Last time I wrote to you, darlings, about your bravery, the bravery it takes to raise a child in a world not made for them. As I sit here typing, just last night I had to slowly convince my child that Crest only changed the character on his toothpaste, not the flavor. “Why,” my second born often asks, “is the world being so difficult?!” I like to think he reminds us that the world can be both a beautiful and an uncomfortable place. He is a wise child who also has his hill to climb.
It is not easy raising a child. Period, full stop. I’m certain in years past I’ve written about this to you. The pain of not knowing what to do and who you can trust to help your child borders on agony. It is a pain I know too well, both in my own life and sitting next to every unsung hero.
Years ago when I started the practice, I met a little boy who at age six still could not communicate and so he bit his finger for everything – excited, angry, hungry. “Hey Mom, look! I feel something,” he said. As I sat next to his mama working on new ways to communicate, she asked me how to take her child to the park. “He loves the swings, but I can’t stand the stares.” Gently I squeezed her hand and shared that we would then have to change the views of others at the park, not her child’s love of the swings. The world was perfect to him; it was time for the world to meet him where he was at.
This is quite easier said than done. Most of us desire the world to be a loving and kind place. If I didn’t believe this, I don’t know that I could go on seeing what I have seen and living what I have lived. I have hope daily for a world that stands beside all beings as equal. And I have learned the hard way that on life’s journey not everyone is where you are on your path. Not everyone understands what you or your child need. And if they are further behind on their journey towards a loving world, they may in fact make your journey more difficult, your journey and your child’s journey, that is.
A Path for Change
I often imagine myself on a wooded path holding my children’s hands. We are walking through a grove of trees into a meadow of light. In the meadow is a space for us where we are free of all that binds. In the meadow we are real and equal. In the meadow we lay side by side with those who have made this journey before, the journey to live our truths with a strong back and soft front. Behind us in the woods are all the paths we have taken and people who have diverted us along the way.
The truth that I am speaking about is knowing in your bones what you and your child need. In knowing that truth you do not pretend not to know it (Glennon Doyle). And you sacredly present that truth battle after battle until you are no longer wielding the sword alone but walking alongside your sisters.
I know what it is like to be doubted and to scream for what you need. I know that screaming isn’t well received. I know what it is to like to tell the truth and for people you have entrusted your child with to turn a blind eye. They aren’t there yet on the journey to see the truth. And I have learned that silence often goes much farther than screams. I have learned to turn away from those who are not ready to see the truth in front of them and continue walking towards those who hold the truth between their hands. Ready to see it, to honor it, and to lift all beings towards freedom.
Becoming Truth Tellers
My children and I read a book called The Sad Little Fact. It is a children’s story about how truth can be buried but that in the end the truth is always available for those who choose to see it. And you, mamas? You know your child’s truth. I believe you.
This is the work. To close out the noise of the outside world, to tune into your knowing, and to push aside anything and anyone who doesn’t support your (and your child’s) right to thrive. To build a table of trust so that you are not walking this journey alone and instead are sitting with your honored companions basked in love and support. We all need this. We all deserve this.
I used to believe that you could trust everyone. My young heart couldn’t see anything but love – the forever hopeful romantic. As time has walked me further on my journey I have learned that trust is earned and that you get to decide who sits at your table. If you and your child have needs above the status quo (and don’t we all), getting those needs met should lift your burden, not create a new one.
Honored to be at Your Table
At my company we do not take lightly that you have invited us to your table. Your autistic child needs a team, you need a shoulder, and we are beyond grateful to be here. We are not perfect, and yet we are real. We are a team of BCBAs who have led this company together for almost 15 years holding countless hands and saying time and time again, “Mama, I believe you.” The world often isn’t built for those who are different. That means we have a long way to go to bring others to the meadow where all beings are free to be who they are.
Long ago, our first client at IABA loved the wind. You couldn’t talk to him when the wind was blowing because it was too beautiful to interrupt. We didn’t change his love or ask him to stop. We asked his world to listen to the wind. As you build your table of trust to support your child, settle for nothing less than those who see your child and their needs as equal, as real.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
by Jessie Cooper | Sep 3, 2026
It’s been a season since I’ve last written to you. How has the sunshine treated you, darling? Was your summer filled with sunscreen, sticky hands from popsicles, and if you were lucky crashing waves? Was it equally filled with cramming the responsibilities of life and parenting in between all the joy the warmth brings? If your home life is anything like mine, summer sleepily announced itself then roared into action. We were mindful as a family and yet I am burned out once again. You would think after all the years under my belt in mindfulness I’d be a little farther along living in presence. It is unfortunately a daily practice that I fail at and try again often. You see, being a mama, running a company, and, well, being human are very complicated things.
As we step away from the summer with the promise structure glowing from inside school doors, I would love to say rest is near. Yet, as I type this, I can feel both the relief of the structure and pressure of the new world my children will enter once again. Children, you see, are wonderful at mindfulness. They live in the present moment almost always and when a season ends, no matter if they have been there before, they once again have to adjust. It’s almost cruel to peel them from sunshine and put them back into little boxes with rules, don’t you think?
As often as I can, I try to harness their joy, to sit and just be with my children undistracted. I find my greatest moments of joy with a warm coffee, sitting on the floor just being there as the morning breaks. Yet as the night leers ahead I slip back into the mental load reminding myself of everything that hasn’t been done, who needs what, and why for the love of god the socks are getting eaten by the washing machine. I know in my heart that love will lead us through to whatever it is we truly need. And, well, being human is a very complicated thing.
Last night as the thunderstorms pounded against the windows, I was assailed with whether my horses were scared in the barn, who was going to organize my closet (spoiler alert it’s me), and the insurmountable responsibility of parenthood. As I closed my eyes a thousand times recentering my breath to my heart, I could not shake the desire to write. It is in fact one of my very favorite things. As I asked myself why, the answer was clear – when I write I know that I am not alone and that perhaps my words may uplift my own life and the lives of others. I’m not sure that my writing has the effect I desire, but I desire it and so I am here again hopeful to stay.
Closing the season of this summer is so much more to me than just sunshine going away and the school season starting. It is an energetic time of closing off chapters that no longer serve me, placing focus into what brings joys and love, and dare I say being supported at home. You see, after six years of single motherhood my partner has Matt moved in. I do not know a Target run without children on the weekends or a meal cooked that is not mine. The simple joy of talking to a grown-up while sipping coffee and enjoying our children is a new joy. With this rest my body is opening to all it has carried and, my goodness, it has carried a lot.
It is often said that we cannot see our way out when we are in a difficult situation. I counter this with the belief that only love is real. As many times as I have fallen down these six years, I have gotten up one more time to guide my children and me to love. Yet, to truly reflect, a body must be balanced and mine now has the chance to rest and so I am reflecting. You may think by my title that I will tell you I am my children’s unsung hero. My darling, this time of reflection is not about me, it’s about my work. You, my loves, are the unsung heroes.
When I think about the difficulty of divorce, single motherhood, and finding clinical resources in a rural area for my children, it takes my heart to every family I have ever met in my time as a BCBA. In almost two decades of work I have never met a parent who has come looking for services bright-eyed and rested. Every parent I have met is exhausted beyond measure, and many have activated their protectors (please see internal family systems) and are either wearily or angrily asking for help for their child. Of course they are; of course you are.
You are the parent who finds joy in your child’s precious moments and who is awake in the night reeling about how to help them. Your list of worries spans from how to help your baby talk to, if your child did start ABA, would your baby keep getting to be themselves. You worry that your funding will either not be taken or be exploited. You want the aggression to go away; you are tired of covering bruises from your frustrated child knowing you are both doing your best. You worry if the bus is safe. You worry that the last box of cereal they will eat is gone because the brand had the audacity to change the color and now your child has zero foods they will accept for breakfast. You worry about the team around your child. You worry, you worry.
And yet through your worries you also see that love carries you out. You know that there is a world in which your child can thrive. A world in which when you ask for help, you receive it. A world where you are not fighting for what your child needs and your own peace. And, my darling, as every morning breaks you believe in this world. You know that no matter how rocky the terrain, you will guide your child to freedom. Freedom to be themselves. Freedom to reach their unlimited potential. Freedom to navigate a social world not built for them but changed for the better by them. You, my darling, are fighting for the freedom to exist in harmony. You, my dearest one, are the unsung hero. Tap your heart, hold your babies, and know that no matter what our complicated world brings we will get where we are going together.
I am not perfect. And yet, through the gift of motherhood and IABA I am here with you hoping to build this world together. Lay down your arms and open them all at the same time.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
by Jessie Cooper | Jun 25, 2026
In my last blog to you I wrote about preparing for the change of summer by prioritizing yourself first. Have you tried this, darling? Amidst the busyness that kids being home bring, have you found a way to fold time and care for yourself into your day? Even if it’s in the smallest way I hope that at least once a day, even for a moment, you’ve made time for yourself. Personally, one of the joys of my home is that my closet has pocket doors. When the going gets tough, I take a mommy minute, throw earbuds in, and listen to music amongst the clothes. It’s not a glamorous spa day, but I can hear myself and breathe.
As the days of summer are in full swing, so is the responsibility of summer parenting. For some families their children have full-time childcare, a part-time nanny, or a grandparent or spend their days receiving ABA therapy. For the children we serve at IABA, summer is a popping time at the clinics! Children are out of school, which means more time with their friends and therapists. Or maybe you are able to get the summer off and are home with your children. All of these scenarios are different yet in one way they are the same – you, my darling, are the primary caregiver. This means that no matter how much or little you are with your own darling, the mental load of their care is fully yours.
I’ve written to you before that I’m a single mama; since my children were eighteen months, three, and fourteen the full mental load has been mine. While I have support, I also know too well what it feels like to have the full weight of parenting on your shoulders. What it feels like to fail, what it feels like to try again, and what it blessedly feels like to have some tools that work well. While my little lovelies (now 7, 9, and 20) do not have autism, the principles of ABA have helped more times than I can count. Children going through divorce need structure and the peace of knowing what is coming next. ABA has long focused on recognizing that what comes before a behavior will predict the behavior you are going to see. The tool that has helped my children is the same tool that will help families with autistic children this summer – visuals and routine.
Now before I go into this further I have a disclaimer. If you have a child with autism, they are their own unique being. There is a saying I have always loved, “If you have met a child with autism, you have met one child with autism.” Yes, there are key traits autistic children have that qualify them for diagnosis. But our neurodiverse babies should never, not ever be pigeon-holed into a label. They are themselves. So when I write to you about what may work, please know it may also not work. If it doesn’t work, lean into first your gut as a parent and then if you can’t figure it out ask for support and help. Even with my own children, social workers are the core of how I adapt when I don’t know what to do. Both my children see therapists, and on my hardest parenting days there is a peace that comes from knowing that when I don’t know what to do, I know who to ask. As the owner of IABA, I deeply hope that is how our team feels to the families we serve.
Okay, okay. Disclaimer over and on to the summer. As you are looking at planning out summer for your autistic child, I do recommend ABA therapy as part of this routine. How many hours your child needs depends entirely on what your child needs. When I’m recommending building ABA into your routine, it is only at the level and hours that will help your child thrive. Knowing there is built-in therapy throughout the week and someone to help build skills with your child beyond you is a piece of the puzzle.
Beyond setting up a therapy schedule that works, setting up each day frontloaded with what your child might need will make all the difference in the world. Wait, what, you say? You want me to predict what my child needs before the day even happens? Well, yes. But also no. The day can go sideways (and will at times) but setting up the environment before the day starts allows for predictability. Autistic children often like structure and routine. Knowing what is coming next, in a visual way, is extremely helpful. When you are setting up the day for your child, having a visual schedule of what the day will look like and a chart of what is available and not available will go a long way. Practically speaking, a schedule can look like velcro and printed pictures, a white board, a piece of paper. However you want it to look, it should be in a format that your child will understand and that will help to prepare them for their day and routine. When children (and people) know what is coming next, we tend to be calmer.
Then, a chart of what is available and what is not available allows children to know what is a choice and what isn’t. A red piece of paper and a green piece of paper works best here. Green is filled with snacks, activities, and toys that are able to be used and red is filled with what isn’t available. This is a fluid chart; for example, you could have a popsicle on green and when popsicles are done for the day, you can move it to red. This little chart goes a long way toward establishing choices and boundaries in a simple way. Coupled with a visual schedule of what is coming next, summer becomes more predictable for your autistic child. And when life is more predictable, it is often calmer for us all.
This past week in therapy my littlest love was working through some big feelings of frustration. As he walked out of session beaming, he had two things in his hand – a visual reminder for mom, “I want to do things by myself,” and a bracelet that says, “Stop it,” to remind his brother he needs breaks from the classic big brother bossing. His therapist smiled at me and said, “You know he’s yours, right?” After years of making visuals for my children, they’re starting to make them, too. When tools work, we use them. I hope, my darling, these tools help set you up for a summer of success.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
by Jessie Cooper | May 21, 2026
As the blooms of spring trees fade and the warmth of summer is upon us, so are our children bursting at the seams with the excitement of another school year finished. The countdown has begun and if you’re anything like me your countdown looks a little different from your children’s. For families of neurodiverse children, while their countdown may not be vocal-verbal, there is still an energy of change in their world; we are all aware that the season is changing.
Alongside my children I am equally excited for sunshine, swimming, frozen treats – popsicles vs. margaritas – it’s all joyful to think about. Yet equally along with that excitement is foreboding joy that my children being home for the summer means that the demands of caretaking increase. While many families are able to use childcare and camps, there are an equal number of families who need to piece together a summer schedule for their children outside of traditional childcare. Being a single mama who shares custody with another parent, my schedule fits around the days I have them. While it is not the same, I can understand the barrier that many of the families we serve at IABA face – the barrier of “it’s all on me to figure it out.”
You see, when as a parent it is up to you to piece together a summer that works for your family and when traditional childcare isn’t a choice, there is an awful lot of stress that goes along with it. So, my darlings, as we step into this new season, instead of first asking what your child needs, I’d like you to ask yourself first what you need. Because while setting up their schedule is on you, it should not be at the expense of you.
What are the stressors leading into summer?
Which ones do you feel you can handle alone?
For which ones do you feel that you need support?
How do you feel at your best as a parent?
And how, my love, can you take care of yourself on the days when tears flow readily?
Parenting is a journey. Often we forget when we are in it that before we had children, we first had ourselves. Each of us has desires, hopes, and a unique soul journey that makes us feel alive. And when little humans enter the picture, they sure have a way of taking up the energy in the room. Please do not get me wrong; our children are our priority as we are raising them. And I know you’ve heard this from me before and you will hear it again – you cannot be who your children need you to be if you are not able to show up for yourself.
Different Paths, Same Journey
We all come from different walks of life and that means that finding a path home to our own hearts while raising our children will look different, too. The barriers in one parent’s life will look differently from another parent’s. Yet at the end of the day we all know what it feels like to be burned out beyond recognition and what it feels like to be balanced. There are times in life when we do have to push through a difficult situation (with our children or otherwise). But, my darlings, we are never as alone as we think we are.
Trust me, I’ve been there more than I like to admit on difficult days with my kids when I feel the world is on my shoulders. Yet when the stress of the difficult days melts away, I remember that I am not alone. That while getting the resources my children and I need is my responsibility, there are people who want to help. We were never meant to live a life of isolation. No matter what anyone is going through, I know in my heart that helping hands are around the corner. Sometimes the barrier is simply reluctance to ask for help.
Creating New Support at IABA
So, my loves, as you step into the summer with your children, think first what you need in order to gain support. Being on 24/7 for the summer is a non-starter for every parent. At IABA I’m beyond proud that part of the work I get to do is pay it forward to the families we serve. I’ve personally been uplifted through my parenting journey in more ways than I can count. Being able to create something unique for the families we support is one way that I’m able to lean into myself and give my heart what it needs – an extension of love.
If your child is a client of IABA this summer (and beyond!), please know that we have built a program through the support of Illinois Medicaid to create community services for our clients. While our families rely on us for ABA therapy, they can also be faced with the challenges of how to help their neurodiverse child thrive in our social world. This summer we have trained our RBTs in Naperville, Oak Lawn, and Des Plaines as Community Support Workers. Under the direction of our Social Workers we are able to use Medicaid funding to join our clients in the community! We know ABA therapy is important and so is being a kid. Our Community Support Workers are focused on helping our clients access the community while relieving families’ stress. This can look any which way our families need, varying from a 1:1 aide at summer camp to extra hands at swim lessons or just a helper in the home outside of ABA sessions to help our clients engage with their families. We want to empower our parents by building community by, in fact, being in the community.
This service might not be for everyone we serve and that’s okay. My hope is that families at IABA see that we are listening about the support they need outside of therapy. Burnout is real for all parents. Feeling alone is a feeling that none of us enjoy. As you step into summer, first ask your heart what you need, and then, my loves, ask for help wherever you can find it. If it’s with IABA, we are more than happy to serve.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
by Jessie Cooper | Mar 12, 2026
Last time I wrote to you, we talked about the importance of self-care in the seasons of our lives that are difficult. Have you tried this, darling? Have you sat with yourself in dark or hard moments with your gentle hand against your heart? Asked your body what it needs? Given space to your spirit to gently peer in to provide a respite from your experience here on earth? I hope, my love, you have just for a moment sat with yourself and offered this care. Our modern lives are full of expectations and it seems as though we are all somehow missing the mark, perhaps even the mark to sit with ourselves. If you haven’t yet leaned in to see what you need, that’s okay, too. You see, life isn’t always about what we do; it is often about what we choose not to.
Early Experiences
As a child I was raised in a home where meeting the family standards and expectations of others was held in high regard. My parents are good people and wanted what was best for us and in the 90’s their view was of their generation. There was a mold to fit and if you fit the mold life would be easy! The problem with this was two-fold. The first is that neither of my parents fit the mold from which they came. My mama was raised in the city in the 1950’s by parents who looked like movie stars and were strict beyond measure. My dad was raised by a traveling Methodist minister alongside siblings who subscribed to toxic patriarchy. My mama was a T-shirt wearing, war protesting liberal by the time she reached college. My dad saw (and sees) all beings as equal including women, which included my mama at his side and not below him as the male. They weren’t who they were raised to be. But the 90’s culture was strong and they had ideas of who my sister and I should be.
They wanted to create their own normal and for us to fit that mold. This led to the second problem: as a child, unless it made sense in my heart, I had a very difficult time following the expectations of others. I can’t remember a time I didn’t question a rule they tried to enforce. And at the same time I very much wanted to make my family happy. It was (and is) a little dance of, “No, I don’t want to, shoot, did that make you sad?” Even in a home where I knew my gender made me equal, I grappled with how to balance who I was with what others wanted from me.
Connecting to our Present
Fast forward to today and you are probably wondering as the owner of IABA why I am sharing this back story. What does it have to do with the families we serve or the work that we do? Well, darlings, the short answer is everything. You see, as the founder of IABA I drive the vision of IABA and what direction we go. That direction is always sitting alongside the families we serve and people we employ to better understand their life experiences. What have they been through? What do they need? How can they soar? And to sit alongside the people that come through IABA I always remember we are all human, having a human experience.
As the founder I am right here with you. Yes, I have the incredible honor of running IABA and providing care to our communities. The backstory of my parents is a small gleam into what shapes my values today and how I choose to lead. In this season of my life I’m realizing that no matter how much my logical head knows not to follow the expectations of others, my heart still wants to make sure everyone is okay. It is a delicate balance within myself. And I have found that when I am able to release expectations, life flows easily. This, my love, is what I want for you.
The Desire for Life
The release of expectations does not mean the release of desires. To be alive is to have dreams, hopes, and needs. The release of expectations means to release the internal (and external) cultural rules that prohibit us from living a life of ease and joy. When I wrote to you about self-care, I was smack in the middle of ignoring what my body needed while trying to hold up everything I am responsible for. My body shut me down (for six long weeks…) while I tried to push through without noticing my own pattern. After two very intentional weeks (not just one night of soup) I am finally feeling more connected to myself. That connection came after I released everything I thought I should be doing.
So what about you, darlings? Many of my readers are parents of children with neurodiversity. These parents are running a marathon of therapies while trying deeply to take care of their lives in addition to their child they so deeply love. Lives with children are full of love alongside worry. Is my child going to be okay? Am I doing enough? What about my marriage? Is there time for my friends? Who is making dinner? Why does laundry never end? And the list goes on and on. The expectations of being a parent are strong. And beneath that parent is a person who didn’t know the breadth of their responsibilities until they met their little person (maybe little people).
You too, my darlings, have a backstory, a childhood, an internal dialogue that is driving you day to day. We all do. And while our stories are different, we all seem to have the same murmuring worry of, “Am I doing enough?” I am here to tell you that it is not what you do, but who you are that is enough. That it is not what you cram into your lives that matters but instead your life itself. Today I am writing only to my parents and I hope you hear me loud and clear – who you are is exactly what your children need.
Yes, life is hard, and parenting is a madhouse. But darlings, in all of that there is life. Won’t you lean gently into your own heart, release what others want, and breathe an expansive breath into the stars? Your having what you need and not what others want is how to fill your cup. A full cup overflows into the lives around them. Kids and all.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
