My mother has a timeshare in Orlando, so every February, we head down there to spend a week taking in the parks, spending time poolside, and enjoying a break from the gloom of winter.

We started this tradition when I was 5 months pregnant. I saw it as a target rich environment where I could observe parents and parenting in the pressure cooker of Disney and all of the accompanying dazzle.

That first year, I formulated a list of dos and don’ts based on my keen observations. I would wear my baby the next year. It would take the strain off of my back and make nursing easily accessible. I wouldn’t head to the park unprepared. I’d make sure to have plenty of diapers and backup formula.

Fast forward a year.

We headed to Animal Kingdom with some friends who met us down there. I did wear my baby, but I forgot to pack extra diapers and the backup formula, so I spent 30 minutes searching for diapers and ended up nursing my son the entire time, all the while chasing our friends, whose children were older.

We were at times literally running to keep up with them, with an infant attached to my boob. I had to tie the thin blanket over his head around my neck to keep it from blowing away, but it was one of those giant baby swaddle wraps, so every so often the wind would catch it, causing it to fly up and flap in the air like a flag, drawing attention to my exposed breast.

And our plan to get there early? The best I could do was 11. Our friends were ready to leave by one. At least we all managed to ride the safari together. If you’re wondering, nursing an infant on a safari ride is something akin to nursing while horseback riding. I had been given ample opportunity to learn that life and parenting does not go according to plan.

Yet still, I judged.

Coming out of a bathroom, I saw a mom hand her toddler her phone while he was on the changing table. I shook my head in disgust. “No wonder this generation is addicted to their phones,” I thought.

Fast forward one year.

My son is eighteen months old, He is incredibly strong and doesn’t like to lie still. Changing him is like wrestling a greased wildebeest. He kicks, screams, and arches his back. In the time it takes to reach for a wipe, he does this crazy ninja move where he flips onto his stomach and slides down off the changing table.

And just like that, I found myself once again at the Animal Kingdom, perhaps in the same bathroom, handing my son my phone while he was on the changing table. I silently whispered an apology to the mother who had stood there a year before.

Perhaps the greatest gift being a parent has afforded my own growth has been the opportunity to look at both my proclivity for judgment and my fear of being judged. We’re all familiar with “Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Judged.” In my experience, it is the people that are most afraid of being judged that are the most likely to judge others. It’s almost like “I’ll judge you before you can judge me.”

I can’t help but wonder: Why do we do this? Why do we judge other parents? What made me think I was in a position, at 5 months pregnant, to make a list of dos and don’ts? What made me shake my head in judgement at the mom who handed the phone to her son on the changing table? Shouldn’t we be partaking in collective fist bumps and rushing to each other’s assistance? Saying “You’ve got this!” to each other while offering a hand or a wipe?

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Watching a child learn and grow is truly a pleasure. Each day, parents are delighted as their child discovers new experiences, develops new skills, and comes to understand more about the world around her.

During these precious early years, parents wish to do everything in their power to enhance their child’s learning and give her all she needs to be successful, both personally and academically.

Fortunately, there is good news for hopeful parents: intelligence is more malleable and dynamic than was previously thought, meaning that there’s a great deal parents can do to encourage their children to excel intellectually. Understanding the mind of your child, with all of its unique aptitudes, can unlock potential far beyond that which can be measured by IQ tests.

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You were hoping to get through this simple errand without any misbehavior from your strong-willed child, but—as usual—here you are again, in a public situation with a child who isn’t quite meeting your expectations for public behavior.

Now what?

From your experience, every time you try to correct your child’s behavior, it turns into an epic power struggle and you tend to find yourself on the losing end most of the time. And that’s the last thing you want right now, with all of these judgmental onlookers watching your every move.

When faced with the unique challenge of raising a strong-willed child, you may find yourself wondering what on earth you can even say to your child to help achieve your goal of improving that behavior, without turning the conversation into a seemingly never-ending battle of wills, with no real solution in sight.

You may frequently wonder: Why does a simple request such as, “Please stop that,” have to turn into such a battle? Can’t he just do what I’ve asked of him, like a child is supposed to do?

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I am the child of a violent, alcoholic father and a narcissistic mother.

At 13, I was sexually molested by a man I worked for.

By 17, I was on a fast train to an early death, barreling downhill to that place with all the fire and brimstone.

Furthermore, I was convinced I NEVER wanted children because I believed I’d be the worst possible parent. I went through years of therapy but still never trusted myself to have children.

But at age 30—well, you know what they say—things happen. I was recently divorced, pregnant, and terrified.

My plan was to put my child up for adoption for her own well-being, but when she was born, all that changed.

I made a 13th-hour decision to raise my own child. God knew what she was doing—that decision turned out to be my saving grace.

I was challenged by the idea of setting behavioral parameters for my daughter. My mother gave me a few old books on child-rearing; they had little relating to the world in the 1990s. There were no parenting classes where we lived; I was on my own. Neither of my parents was a good role model to follow. I decided to approach the issue logically.

I turned to the first book we used in therapy when I was 17, Born to Win by Muriel James, Ed.D., and Dorothy Jongeward, Ph.D. I’ve read this book at least 20 times over the years. I read it again when I brought my baby daughter home.

Born to Win is based on transactional analysis theory. The concepts are fundamental to understanding how to grow a healthy, happy child: the need for positive stroking; listening instead of lecturing; speaking from the “Adult” and understanding the “Child” (both in myself and my daughter); the effects of parenting, childhood, and child ego states; and how we become autonomous adults. Exercises show how communication patterns can influence desired outcomes.

The Chapter One epigraph contains these words by Galileo:

You cannot teach a man anything,
You can only help him discover it within himself.

These words embody what it takes to raise a child. I can lead by example, I can hope to influence choices, I can provide opportunities, but I cannot “create” a person. She will be who she will be, in spite of me.

The question I had to answer was: what part will I play, and how? The very thought process scared me, raising my fear of failure.

I needed a plan, so I set to work.

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