One Sock Seam Away From Losing It
- Dr David A Palmer
- Oct 28
- 3 min read
(And I Mean Me)
You know the moment.
It’s Tuesday morning. You’re already running late. And the battle isn’t over screen time or chores. It’s over… socks.
The seam isn’t right. The texture feels weird. The irritation is hugely unbearable. What started as a tiny ripple of discomfort is quickly escalating into a full-blown tidal wave of distress.
You feel like you're losing it!
And if you’re really honest with yourself, the rising panic isn’t just coming from your child.
It’s coming from you.
Your heart starts to race. Your jaw clenches. That familiar heat floods your chest. You can feel your own internal volume knob cranking up to eleven. You are one misplaced sock seam away from having your own meltdown.
I confess that when it was time for the kids to get dressed in their school uniforms in the morning, I would “find” something else to do while my wife took the brunt of the meltdown.
Cowardly? YES. However, I've learned a great deal since then and no longer let the sheer injustice of a sock seam derail our entire morning. Even though it might have felt like a personal attack by the universe, honestly, it was not my finest moment, one I had to grow through and in.
This isn’t just about managing our kids’ big emotions. It’s about surviving our own. It’s about the exhaustion of constantly walking on eggshells, of trying to anticipate and defuse the next landmine, of feeling like our own nervous system is perpetually frayed and on high alert.
We call it “Mom Rage” or “Dad Burnout,” but let’s call it what it really is: Co-dysregulation.
Our nervous systems are not islands.
They are profoundly interconnected. When our child’s system goes into fight-or-flight over a sock seam, our own system instinctively mirrors it. Their panic becomes our panic. Their storm becomes our storm. We see the “crash” coming, and we slam our foot on that imaginary brake, tensing up, getting louder, trying to control the uncontrollable.
And in doing so, we often become the second storm in the room.
The most revolutionary thing I ever learned wasn’t a better script for them.
It was a better regulator for me.
It was realizing that my first job in those moments wasn’t to fix the sock; it was to find my own footing.
Because here’s the truth: Your calm is their lifeline.
When you can anchor your own nervous system, you become the safe harbor their storm-tossed brain is desperately seeking. You become the tuning fork that helps their system find its way back to calm.
But how do you do that when you’re also about to lose it?
You need a plan—a simple, in-the-moment reset.
That’s why the very first phase of my Emergency Meltdown Protocol isn’t about your child at all. It’s about YOU.
It’s the 30-second “STOP, DROP, BREATHE” sequence designed to anchor your nervous system before you engage.
STOP talking. (Because your words are probably fuel right now).
DROP your body. (Get smaller, signal safety to both brains).
BREATHE audibly. (Manually hit the brakes on your own panic).
This isn’t about being a perfect, zen parent. It’s about having a practical tool for the messy reality of being a human raising humans. It’s your own personal “rewire” button for those moments when you feel one sock seam away from unraveling.
✨ Action Step: Practice Your Anchor. Don’t wait for the next meltdown. Practice the “Stop, Drop, Breathe” sequence right now. Feel what it does in your body. Build the muscle memory of calm before you get in the car.
If you haven’t already, grab the full Emergency Meltdown Protocol—it’s my free gift to you. It’s the first-aid kit you need to stop walking on eggshells and start finding your footing, together.
You don’t have to be perfect. You just need a plan. Let’s start rewriting those difficult moments, one breath at a time.
Till next time,
Dr. David
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