Infinite Resources Inc.

10/23/2026

Never underestimate the power of simply LISTENING. Of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Of being a safe space for ALL of their emotions, even the uncomfortable ones.

In the work we do supporting students with complex needs, we spend so much time talking about regulation, connection, validation, and creating environments where children feel safe, heard, and understood.

But sometimes we forget that the adults sitting around that same table deserve exactly the same consideration.

The parents. The teachers. The educational assistants. The administrators.

Parenting is hard work. Teaching is hard work. And supporting children with complex needs can be incredibly hard work. Parents carry the responsibility of loving, advocating for, and supporting their children through challenges that don’t end when the school day does. They know their children in ways no one else can, and sometimes they’ve had to fight incredibly hard to have that knowledge recognized.

Educators carry the responsibility of supporting classrooms full of diverse learners, balancing individual needs, curriculum, safety, relationships, and expectations, often with limited time and resources. They bring their own commitment, expertise, and genuine desire to see children succeed.

Neither role is easy. Both deserve respect, compassion, and understanding.

For some parents, walking into a school meeting means putting their armour on. Not because they want a fight, but because somewhere along the way, they’ve learned they might need one.

And sometimes educators arrive at that same table feeling overwhelmed, questioned, or worried that their efforts aren’t being recognized.

What happens when we create a space where neither side feels the need to defend themselves?

Where parents don’t have to fight to be heard. Where educators don’t have to defend every decision. Where we recognize that different perspectives don’t have to mean opposing sides.

One of the things I absolutely LOVE about my work is helping families feel safe enough to set aside some of that hurt and defensiveness, while also honouring the tremendous work educators do every single day.
I’m incredibly appreciative of the school divisions and teams I have the privilege of working alongside. People who genuinely want to partner with families and recognize that supporting a child means supporting the people who love, teach, and care for them.

Sometimes the most powerful strategy isn’t another document, intervention, or plan.
It’s listening. It’s compassion. It’s recognizing the effort, experience, and emotions that everyone brings to the table.

So here’s my invitation to reflect:
When someone sits across from us, are we truly listening to understand, or are we already preparing our response?

Are we seeing a difficult parent, or someone who is exhausted from advocating for their child?

Are we seeing a resistant educator, or someone who is doing their absolute best while navigating challenges we may not fully understand?

And perhaps most importantly, are we offering the adults the same patience, grace, and understanding that we work so hard to offer our children?

Because parents don’t need to be perfect to deserve support. Teachers don’t need to have all the answers to deserve respect.

And neither should have to prove how hard they’re trying before we offer compassion.

We don’t have to agree on everything to respect each other. We don’t have to share the same perspective to value each other’s experiences.

But we do need to remember that we’re all human.

And when we lead with curiosity instead of judgement, and connection instead of defensiveness, we create the conditions for something pretty powerful.

Not just better meetings. Better relationships. Better partnerships. And ultimately, better support for our children.

10/15/2026

There’s something pretty incredible about working with people who genuinely respect and value what you bring to the table.

I absolutely LOVE working with teams who are invested, willing to learn, open to different perspectives and, most importantly, ready to put strategies into action!

As a Behaviour Coach, one of the most rewarding parts of my work is being able to share strategies with the confidence that they won’t just sound good in a meeting or look great on paper. They will actually be implemented!

And when it comes to developing a Positive Behaviour Support Plan (PBSP), that commitment makes ALL the difference.

A PBSP isn’t meant to be another document sitting in a binder. It’s a working plan built around a student’s strengths, needs and goals. And it only becomes meaningful when the people supporting that student understand it, believe in it and commit to using it consistently.

That’s where the magic happens!

When classroom teams, educational assistants, administrators and families are all invested, we’re not just developing a plan. We’re building confidence, strengthening skills, creating consistency and setting students up for success.

And the growth isn’t just happening for the student!

Teams grow. Confidence grows. Relationships grow. And students thrive.

I love walking into a school and seeing strategies being used, staff celebrating the little victories, teams problem-solving together and students doing things they couldn’t do a few weeks ago.

That tells me the work we’re doing together is making a difference.

I can bring the tools, strategies, coaching and experience to the table, but it’s the commitment of the people around that table that brings it all to life.

And being welcomed, respected and valued as part of that process? That’s pretty damn rewarding too!

This is why I love what I do.

— Infinite Resources Inc.

Shout out to the teams at Leo Nickerson Elementary, École Élémentaire Lois E. Hole and W.D Cuts Junior High School

10/10/2026

Love this!

30 heavy work equipments

10/06/2026

Sometimes the best regulation tools aren’t found in a therapy catalogue — sometimes you stumble across them while you’re out shopping!

This Balance & Groove Set immediately caught my attention as a great addition to a school sensory space, regulation room, classroom movement area, or even a home setup.

Movement isn’t just about “getting the wiggles out.” Activities that involve balance, coordinated movement and focused attention give the brain and body meaningful sensory input. They can support body awareness, motor planning, attention and regulation — while still feeling like PLAY.

I especially love tools like this because they can be used in so many ways: follow the path, balance from one section to another, stop and hold a position, add counting or colours, move slowly versus quickly, or build a short sensory circuit before returning to learning.

The goal of a sensory space isn’t simply to give kids somewhere to go when they’re already dysregulated. It’s to give them opportunities to move, organize their bodies, practise regulation and return to the next activity more ready to engage.

And you definitely don’t have to spend thousands of dollars creating one. Keep your eyes open — some fantastic regulation tools are hiding in the toy aisle.

Move. Balance. Focus. Regulate. Then return.

09/24/2026

THE UNWRITTEN RULES ARE… WELL… UNWRITTEN.

And then we’re surprised when some of our kiddos don’t know them.

Junior and senior high are FULL of invisible social rules.

How close do I stand?

How do I know someone is joking?

When does funny become TOO much?

How do I join a conversation?

How can I tell when someone wants me to stop?

Is this person laughing WITH me or encouraging me to do something because they think my reaction is funny?

What does flirting look like?

How do I know if someone actually wants to hang out?

When is a peer being a friend — and when are they egging me on?

Those are incredibly complicated skills.

Some students learn them almost invisibly through observation and experience.

Others need them TAUGHT.

And teaching social expectations does NOT have to mean:

“Act more normal.”

It shouldn’t mean suppressing personality, harmless quirks, culture, communication style, enthusiasm, humour, interests or individuality so someone appears more socially acceptable.

We aren’t teaching kids to MASK who they are.

We’re giving them INFORMATION.

“Here’s what you might notice.”

“When someone does this, it can mean…”

“Watch their face. Did something change?”

“Notice what happened when you said that.”

“Do you think they were laughing WITH you or were they trying to get you to do it again?”

“What could you do next?”

And sometimes we teach it AFTER the moment, when there is no social pressure and the brain is available for reflection.

No lecture.

No shame.

Just curiosity.

Because we also need to talk about VULNERABILITY.

A student who desperately wants friendship, a girlfriend/boyfriend, a lunch group or simply somewhere to belong may tolerate things other students recognize immediately as NOT friendship.

They may become the entertainment.

They may agree to something because someone showed them attention.

They may miss sarcasm, manipulation or social boundaries.

That means social teaching isn’t about conformity.

It’s also about SAFETY.

We can help students understand the unwritten rules while still saying:

You don’t have to become everyone else.

You get to be funny.
Different.
Passionate.
Quiet.
Loud.
Quirky.
YOU.

We’re simply adding skills to your toolbox so YOU have more choice in how you navigate your world.

Because the goal isn’t a kid who perfectly performs “normal.”

The goal is a young person who understands enough about the social world around them to make informed choices, build genuine relationships, recognize when something doesn’t feel right — and find the people and places where being themselves is absolutely enough.

THAT is belonging.

09/23/2026

Something changes when our kiddos hit junior and senior high.

Being successful isn’t only about completing the assignment, getting to class or regulating through a transition.

It’s also about BELONGING.

And sometimes our very well-intentioned support can accidentally get in the way.

Imagine being 15 and having an adult sitting beside you ALL. DAY. LONG.

Prompting.
Reminding.
Redirecting.
Explaining.
Following.

Meanwhile, your peers are learning how to navigate friendships, flirt terribly, make questionable jokes, figure out where to sit at lunch and generally exist without an adult narrating their experience.

So we need to ask:

How much support does this student NEED — and how much are we providing because it makes US feel safer?

Sometimes the most powerful support isn’t another adult.

It’s PEERS.

A peer starts the assignment — our student sees what “getting started” looks like.

A group heads to the next class — our student moves with them.

Someone says, “Dude, we’re supposed to be over there” — and somehow those seven words accomplish what our 47 adult prompts could not.

That’s natural modelling.

But there’s an important boundary.

Peers are PEERS.

They are not educational assistants.
They are not behaviour coaches.
They are not responsible for keeping another student regulated or out of trouble.

We can intentionally create opportunities for connection without assigning responsibility.

Partner activities.
Shared interests.
Small groups.
Clubs.
Lunch opportunities.
Natural peer models.
Cooperative jobs.
Structured social opportunities where success is likely.

Then adults can do something incredibly difficult:

BACK UP.

Stay available.
Observe.
Coach quietly when necessary.
Step in when support is actually needed.

But leave enough space for something authentic to happen.

Because adolescence is supposed to include awkward conversations, mistakes, disagreements, inside jokes, friendships, crushes, repairing relationships and figuring out:

“Who am I when adults aren’t managing everything for me?”

Our job isn’t to create independence by suddenly removing support.

It’s to become REALLY thoughtful about where our support lives.

Close enough for safety and success.

Far enough away for autonomy, dignity, friendship and identity to grow.

Sometimes the goal isn’t:

“How do we get this student to need us less?”

It’s:

“How do we build an environment where they have MORE people, MORE skills and MORE places where they can thrive?”

That’s a very different kind of independence.

09/22/2026

THE STUCK SERIES — PART 4 OF 4

OKAY… THEY’RE STUCK.

NOW WHAT?

Recognizing stuck thinking is important.

But then we need to DO something with that information.

First: STOP ADDING WORDS.

When a brain is becoming overwhelmed, our 14-minute TED Talk about why they need to put their boots on probably isn’t helping.

Keep it clear.

“It’s time for recess.”

Then SUPPORT THE NEXT STEP.

Not all seventeen steps.
Just the next one.

Try:

FIRST–THEN.
“First boots, then outside.”

A VISUAL.
Show instead of adding more language.

TWO YES CHOICES.
“Boots here or by the bench?”

A COUNTDOWN.
“One more minute, then we’re going.”

MODEL IT.
Sometimes seeing the first step is easier than processing another direction.

MOVE WITH THEM.
“Let’s go.”

CO-REGULATE.
Your calm, predictable nervous system matters.

And when appropriate within an individualized plan, approved procedures and with trained adults, some students may require physical support to safely move forward.

The goal is NEVER force for compliance.

The goal is providing the LEAST amount of support required for SUCCESS.

Then watch what happens.

Did the student settle once moving?

Could they participate after the transition?

Did their language return?

Did their body regulate?

Could they complete the activity?

That information helps us understand what the behaviour was communicating.

And then comes the part we sometimes forget:

FADE THE SUPPORT.

Today I help you take the first three steps.

Tomorrow maybe it’s two.

Eventually I point.

Then you initiate independently.

THAT is skill building.

Independence doesn’t mean we withhold support until someone figures it out.

It means we provide enough support for successful practice and intentionally reduce it as capacity grows.

STUCK isn’t where we set up camp.

We notice it.
We understand it.
We support movement.
We celebrate success.
And we keep building the skills to make the next stuck moment a little easier.

09/21/2026

THE STUCK SERIES — PART 3 OF 4

STUCK OR DEFIANT?

Sometimes they can LOOK remarkably similar.

You give a direction.

Nothing.

You repeat it.

“No.”

They don’t move.

Maybe they drop, turn away, argue, negotiate or repeat the same answer.

It’s easy to land on:

“They’re refusing.”
“They’re being defiant.”
“They KNOW what they’re supposed to do.”

But before we decide what the behaviour MEANS, let’s look at what we can actually OBSERVE.

STUCK might look like:

• Repeating the same words, question or argument
• Asking for reassurance over and over
• Negotiating long after the expectation is clear
• Freezing or becoming unusually still
• Dropping, sitting or stopping at transitions
• Saying “I can’t” to something they have previously done
• Returning repeatedly to what happened earlier
• Difficulty choosing — even between two familiar options
• Becoming increasingly emotional the longer we wait
• Needing significantly more prompting to START than to continue
• Completing the task successfully once someone helps them take that first step

That last one is IMPORTANT.

If a student spends 15 minutes unable to enter the classroom, but once supported through the doorway participates, laughs, learns and carries on…

that gives us information.

Maybe the barrier wasn’t the classroom.

Maybe the barrier was getting UNSTUCK.

Defiance implies a level of purposeful opposition that we can easily over-assign when what we are actually seeing is anxiety, rigidity, fear, overwhelm, communication difficulty or a nervous system struggling to shift gears.

And YES — students can absolutely test boundaries, avoid things they don’t like and make choices we need to address.

But our job isn’t to guess intent from across the room.

Our job is to READ THE BEHAVIOUR.

What happened before it?

What happens when we wait?

Does more language make it worse?

What happens when we reduce the words and increase predictability?

What happens when we help them START?

Before asking:

“Are they refusing?”

Try asking:

“Are they ABLE to move forward independently right now?”

Because the intervention for WON’T and the intervention for CAN’T YET should not automatically be the same.

09/18/2026

Today I am not at work. I am preparing to say goodbye to a loved one, to be with his family and to grieve.

Loss.

Such a small word for something that can suddenly seem to be everywhere.

One loss can knock the air out of you. But what happens when the losses start stacking up before you’ve even had a chance to catch your breath?

That has been the strange, heavy reality of the end of August and the beginning of September.

August ended with me losing Scarlett — my heart-and-soul rescue who, in so many ways, rescued me right back.

At the same time, I was watching someone incredibly important to me struggle after losing his home to a fire. Then, somehow, impossibly, I lost him too. I still don’t think my heart or my brain fully understands that he is actually gone.

All of this happened while I was transitioning into a full-time contract that I am genuinely excited and grateful for, while leaving behind a team, a job, a community and kiddos I absolutely love. That is its own kind of grief. I miss my work family. Man, do I miss my kiddos.

Then, this week, a family connected to those kiddos lost their Kokum.

Later that same day, one of my girlfriend’s moms passed away. I found myself holding her grief while honouring mine.

Within a two-week span… loss after loss after loss.
Different people. Different relationships. Different kinds of heartbreak. Different spaces suddenly left empty.

And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I’ve found myself thinking about how differently grief can show up — and how often children and young people are expected to move through it in ways that make the adults around them more comfortable.

But there is something about witnessing children and young people navigate grief that reminds us how little grief needs to be “fixed”.
A grieving student may not need the right words, a lesson about resilience or someone trying to make the sadness disappear. They may simply need a quiet, steady space beside them.

They may need someone willing to listen as they tell you about the fabric of who that person was — the stories, the funny things, the traditions, the smells, the food, the words they used, the things they did together and all those tiny details that made their person their person.

Supporting them can mean creating enough safety for them to talk when they need to, be quiet when they don’t, laugh at a memory without feeling guilty and cry without someone rushing in to stop the tears.

And really, isn’t that what our grieving friends need from us too?

Not always advice. Not a silver lining. Not someone trying to make sense of something that simply doesn’t make sense.

Sometimes support is sitting beside someone in the uncomfortable space and letting them know they are safe there with you.

Safe to say their person’s name for the hundredth time.
Safe to tell the same story again
Safe to laugh.
Safe to cry.
Safe to be angry.
Safe to be okay for an afternoon and devastated again that evening.
Safe to reach out without worrying that their grief has become “too much”.

Sometimes our job isn’t to find the right words
Sometimes it is simply to make it safe for theirs.

And today, another friend shared their loss.

It has me thinking again about loss — about why grief is so profoundly difficult to explain, share or even understand.

What are we supposed to do with all of those BIG feelings and all of those BIG spaces where someone or something wonderful used to be?

Maybe we don’t have to immediately fill them.

Maybe we can give ourselves permission to lean into those spaces for a while.

To remember what lived there.

To laugh at the memories that are funny. Cry over the ones that hurt. Say their names. Tell the stories. Miss the people, animals, places, routines and versions of our lives that mattered.

And honour the fact that if losing something hurts this much, it probably means having it mattered deeply.

Over time, we can also begin to notice what is growing around those empty spaces.

A new job.

New people.

A new community being built.

New relationships.

New opportunities.

New memories that don’t replace what was lost, but remind us that there is still so much life happening around us.

Gratitude and grief can exist in the same body.

I can be incredibly grateful for where I am and still desperately miss where I was.

I can love the people standing beside me now while aching for someone who isn’t.

I can recognize every support, blessing and beautiful thing in my life and still have days when loss feels unbelievably heavy.

Maybe regulation through grief isn’t about getting back to Green as quickly as possible.

Maybe sometimes it is simply allowing ourselves to be exactly where we are, feeling what needs to be felt, accepting the support offered to us and trusting that we will keep moving forward — carrying pieces of everything and everyone we have loved with us.

There are spaces in my life right now that feel painfully empty.

But those spaces exist because something extraordinary once filled them.

And for that, even through the grief, I am profoundly grateful.

09/18/2026

WE GET STUCK TOO.

Before we talk about stuck thinking in students, let’s remember what it feels like for US.

Ever had a disagreement that didn’t go well?

The conversation ends…but your brain apparently missed that memo.

What did they mean?
Why did I say that?
Are they mad?
Should I explain?
Maybe if I explain it ONE MORE TIME…

Hello, STUCK.

Or someone gives you constructive feedback, but your brain hears CORRECTION.

Suddenly you’re replaying their words, analyzing their tone and wondering what you did wrong. You want to FIX IT — but instead you’re looping.

What started as YELLOW — “Something feels off” — can wind itself right into ORANGE: the emotional/defensive brain.

Maybe your stuck looks different.

You’re pushed outside your comfort zone and suddenly your brain produces the highlight reel of EVERYTHING THAT COULD GO WRONG.

What if I fail?
What if I embarrass myself?
What if it happens like last time?

Now we’re stuck in fear — and sometimes past experiences have joined the conversation too.

So think about a time YOU were genuinely stuck.

What did it feel like?

Did someone saying “just let it go” magically work?

Probably not.

What DID help you move forward?

Reassurance?
Space?
Movement?
Humour?
A trusted person?
Someone helping you take the FIRST step?

Now imagine that same experience with fewer or different regulation skills, less emotional language, less impulse control, different communication skills, or a nervous system that becomes overwhelmed more quickly.

And then imagine someone calling it:

Defiance.
Non-compliance.
Attention seeking.
“They know better.”

Knowing and DOING are very different things when a brain is stuck.

This doesn’t mean removing expectations or letting someone stay stuck indefinitely.

It means changing the question from:

“Why won’t they just DO IT?”

to:

“What is keeping them stuck — and what support will help them take the next step?”

We get stuck.
We loop.
We catastrophize.
We avoid.
We get defensive.

Many of us have simply had decades to develop the skills to move forward.

Our students are still building theirs.

And THAT should change how we respond.