by Jessie Cooper | Oct 22, 2026
Last blog I wrote to you about the sacred table of trust. Have you looked at yours, darlings? Closely evaluated, who has access to that brave and wonderful heart of yours? If you’re anything like me, chairs have gotten added and removed as I’ve learned to honor myself and ask for it in return. Learning who I am and what I need (at nearly 40) seems like an exercise that will never stop. I’ve come to accept this is part of life’s journey, the work of knowing and unknowing anything and everything that brings us home to our own heart.
I am writing this in a moment when I am struggling a bit in my own life and so I am writing a way home. I had a recent moment when I accomplished a lifelong goal. Something that I believe is part of my soul journey. Something so real and true that the most beautiful sunrise of your mind couldn’t hold a candle to it. And yet. There was no parade, fireworks weren’t lit, the stars didn’t realign, or even simply a celebration planned. The goal was met, my body melted, my family breathed, and life moved on into the unknown. Lunches still needed to be packed, socks were ordered in bulk for the pure goal of sanity, my children were still children with needs. I found myself in a seat where those around me said, “What now, boss? What now, Mom?” I was stunned, not celebrated in the moment I thought life would change.
I’ll be honest with you, I was not gracious for a skip and a beat because I had so much riding on this one goal. I was frustrated that the goal had been met and my days kept moving on. I believe we have all been trained that way – to set a goal and when it is met to expect our worlds to change in one cinematic moment. No wonder I felt a little shock. “I’m at the top of the mountain! Isn’t this the part where angels sing?” Just kidding, but we all know the feeling of accomplishing something in the outside world hoping to change our internal world. The Notebook, anyone?
This world is demanding of us all. Loudly demanding. It tells us many stories of how we can reach out into it and find all that we are looking for. Social media, movies, books, and our culture are riddled with this story line. We are taught to look for a destiny beyond ourselves, not within ourselves. What if I told you that your destiny was to love yourself with your whole heart? What if every single one of us did it? Truly wrote a love story to ourselves and then went out into the world to share and exchange love? Wouldn’t that be a story to tell?
In my frustration I practiced the “You Turn,” coined by Tara Brach. It is a Buddhist principle to seek refuge in your own heart before walking through the day or world. As my frustration mounted that daily life was not changing, yet, I was also able to return home to my own heart; it’s a beautiful place in there. And there I found, once again, the truth is this – love is always there in my heart; it is not something to seek but to enjoy when matched. I had to offer myself love and gratitude for who I am in order to bring myself home.
I hope, my darlings, that when the world falls short in showering the love on you, you are able to apply my story to your own life. That if the world falls short of appreciating you, showing you love, or saying thank you for the small tasks to the great, you do not reach toward bitterness. That you do not harm your neighbors looking for this love, this thing. Or, by proxy, I hope you do not harm yourself even with something as small as unkind thoughts. The world is hard and you are doing your best. I want you to fill your own cup so full of love that if anyone brings love to your table, your full cup overflows. I want you to not seek love thirsty, but instead be satiated in your own knowing – the knowing that you were and always are made of love.
I did an incredible thing that spans across generations of my family. I have set a new path based on love and truth. When the world was hard around me, I never once stopped believing in where I was going, in what I knew to be true. Now I will sit in the sun asking myself what love needs me to do today. I will care for myself first and then I will continue to build a more beautiful world on a path lined with love. I will continue to lead my children and company from this path. I am just Jessie, and yet I believe one person can make a difference if they follow their heart.
Walk easy, darlings, lean into your hearts, and bask in the warmth of your own love. Then, only then, share and receive. I cannot wait to see what your full heart brings to our world.
Xoxo,
Jessie Cooper
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
