HOME | Dr. Stacy Jagger

top of page

SPEAKER • AUTHOR • CHILD ADVOCATE

Combating the Dangerous Cost of Dysregulated High-Capacity Leadership

BOOK DR. STACY TO SPEAK

MUSIC CITY FAMILY THERAPY

SUPPORT THE MISSION

ili1-(3 of 34)_edited.jpg

About Dr. Stacy

Helping leaders and families return to what matters most.

Dr. Stacy Jagger, known to many as Dr. Sassy, is a nationally recognized therapist, executive coach, and keynote speaker who helps organizations build high-performing cultures through nervous system regulation, human connection, and digital wellness. With more than 20 years of experience, Dr. Stacy uses her signature Mountain Method™ framework to equip leaders, professionals, and families to overcome burnout, reduce digital overload, and restore focus, presence, and performance in an increasingly distracted world.

Dr. Stacy Jagger is a force — a brilliant mind with a heart wide open. Her work is changing the way families and leaders relate to one another.

— TIM STOREY

Real Voices

What people are saying

"I would love to implement the tools and resources she offered."

Stephanie Roberts

Child Psychology + Education Major

"I like that she brings playfulness & creativity to the whole process."

Peter

Digital Marketing Expert

Dr. Stacy Jagger's Books

Words that move families

The 30-Day Blackout

"I highly recommend The 30-Day Blackout. Read it. Do it. Then watch your family transform from 'sit and watch' to 'move and play'."

— Dr. William Sears, MD

ORDER ON AMAZON

raising sassy book mock up v2.png

Raising Sassy

A memoir that recounts Dr. Sassy’s challenging childhood, her journey of healing from trauma, and her professional mission to help children and families.

COMING SOON

Follow Along

I asked Ron this a while back expecting him to say a trip. He said a Tuesday.

That’s the thing about fun. The family doesn’t remember the version you paid for. They remember the one where you were actually there.

“What’s the most fun we’ve ever had together?”

Ask it tonight. Then ask the follow up that makes it worth asking. When’s the last time we did that? Put it on the calendar before anybody leaves the table.

Or come do it with us. Saturday, September 19 at the farm, the Dr. Sassy Family Shindig. Come as you are, which around here means overalls. No screens. Bring your people.

Save this one. Send it to the person you’d put on your list.

I asked Ron this a while back expecting him to say a trip. He said a Tuesday.

That’s the thing about fun. The family doesn’t remember the version you paid for. They remember the one where you were actually there.

“What’s the most fun we’ve ever had together?”

Ask it tonight. Then ask the follow up that makes it worth asking. When’s the last time we did that? Put it on the calendar before anybody leaves the table.

Or come do it with us. Saturday, September 19 at the farm, the Dr. Sassy Family Shindig. Come as you are, which around here means overalls. No screens. Bring your people.

Save this one. Send it to the person you’d put on your list.

Today we remember!

Today we remember!

Twenty five years today.

Anniversaries do not live in the calendar. They live in the body. So if this one feels heavier than expected, that is not being dramatic. That is remembering.

The harder part is that kids read the adults in the room before they read the news. They learn what to do with grief by watching what the grown ups do with theirs.

Here is what helps, depending on the ages at your table.

Little ones need safety, not information. Keep the footage off and go do something ordinary together.

Six and seven year olds need the simple truth with the helpers left in it.

Eight to eleven have already heard something at school. Ask what they heard before explaining anything.

Middle schoolers have seen the footage. Ask what they saw, then listen longer than is comfortable.

High schoolers do not need a lesson. They need someone to tell them where they were that morning.

And before any of that, take the breath first. Kids do not regulate from our words. They regulate from our bodies.

Tell the truth. Name the helpers. Stay in the room while the feelings move. Then go make dinner, and let ordinary life do what it does.

Twenty five years today.

Anniversaries do not live in the calendar. They live in the body. So if this one feels heavier than expected, that is not being dramatic. That is remembering.

The harder part is that kids read the adults in the room before they read the news. They learn what to do with grief by watching what the grown ups do with theirs.

Here is what helps, depending on the ages at your table.

Little ones need safety, not information. Keep the footage off and go do something ordinary together.

Six and seven year olds need the simple truth with the helpers left in it.

Eight to eleven have already heard something at school. Ask what they heard before explaining anything.

Middle schoolers have seen the footage. Ask what they saw, then listen longer than is comfortable.

High schoolers do not need a lesson. They need someone to tell them where they were that morning.

And before any of that, take the breath first. Kids do not regulate from our words. They regulate from our bodies.

Tell the truth. Name the helpers. Stay in the room while the feelings move. Then go make dinner, and let ordinary life do what it does.

The Dr. Sassy Family Shindig is Saturday, September 19 at Sunnybrook Farm, 5:30 to 8:30.

Here is what it is. Three hours on a farm with no screens. Overalls encouraged, not required. Room to run, something to eat, and a bunch of other families doing the same slightly awkward thing at the same time you are. We start in the good evening light and we go until it is dark, which is on purpose. Something happens to people after the sun goes down and nobody has reached for a phone in two hours.

Here is why we do it. Most of the families I sit with are not broken. They are just never in the same room without something glowing in it. You cannot schedule connection. You can only clear the space where it tends to show up, and then get out of its way.

And here is what happens when you do, which I have now watched enough times to set a timer by. Swipe through. That is the whole timeline.
Short version: your family will hate this for about twenty five minutes, and then you will have trouble getting them in the car.

September 19, 5:30 to 8:30. Bring your people.

The Dr. Sassy Family Shindig is Saturday, September 19 at Sunnybrook Farm, 5:30 to 8:30.

Here is what it is. Three hours on a farm with no screens. Overalls encouraged, not required. Room to run, something to eat, and a bunch of other families doing the same slightly awkward thing at the same time you are. We start in the good evening light and we go until it is dark, which is on purpose. Something happens to people after the sun goes down and nobody has reached for a phone in two hours.

Here is why we do it. Most of the families I sit with are not broken. They are just never in the same room without something glowing in it. You cannot schedule connection. You can only clear the space where it tends to show up, and then get out of its way.

And here is what happens when you do, which I have now watched enough times to set a timer by. Swipe through. That is the whole timeline.
Short version: your family will hate this for about twenty five minutes, and then you will have trouble getting them in the car.

September 19, 5:30 to 8:30. Bring your people.

I sat down with @joyastjohn on The Joyous Edge to talk about what it actually takes to disconnect in an over-committed world.

We covered the parts I don’t always lead with. My own story of chaos and healing, and how it shaped the way I work with families and executives. Why a child’s struggle is usually a signal about the whole family system, not about the child. What happens in a home when you trade entertainment for connection for 30 days.

We also got into nervous system regulation, margin, and screen time boundaries that actually hold.

Link to listen is in my bio.

I sat down with @joyastjohn on The Joyous Edge to talk about what it actually takes to disconnect in an over-committed world.

We covered the parts I don’t always lead with. My own story of chaos and healing, and how it shaped the way I work with families and executives. Why a child’s struggle is usually a signal about the whole family system, not about the child. What happens in a home when you trade entertainment for connection for 30 days.

We also got into nervous system regulation, margin, and screen time boundaries that actually hold.

Link to listen is in my bio.

Yes, I’m on a swing. On purpose.

Here’s what most people don’t know. That back and forth motion is doing something real for your body. It settles your nervous system down the same way rocking settles a baby. Your brain reads the rhythm and decides you’re safe. You can’t white knuckle your way into calm, but you can move your way into it.

So this Labor Day, go to the park. Actually look at the grass moving. Get on a swing.

Turn it off. Phone face down on the bench, not in your pocket. Turn it in. Notice what happens in your body when you stop bracing for the next ping. Turn it up. Go play. Not later, not once things slow down. Today.

The emails will be there tomorrow. They always are. Nothing in that inbox is going to fall apart because you took twenty minutes on a swing.

When’s the last time you were on one?

Yes, I’m on a swing. On purpose.

Here’s what most people don’t know. That back and forth motion is doing something real for your body. It settles your nervous system down the same way rocking settles a baby. Your brain reads the rhythm and decides you’re safe. You can’t white knuckle your way into calm, but you can move your way into it.

So this Labor Day, go to the park. Actually look at the grass moving. Get on a swing.

Turn it off. Phone face down on the bench, not in your pocket. Turn it in. Notice what happens in your body when you stop bracing for the next ping. Turn it up. Go play. Not later, not once things slow down. Today.

The emails will be there tomorrow. They always are. Nothing in that inbox is going to fall apart because you took twenty minutes on a swing.

When’s the last time you were on one?

One of us grew up in The Huxtables. The other grew up on Crazy Train.
Somehow, we became sisters.
Lynesa Williams grew up in a loving, stable home and life still handed her pain. I grew up with alcoholism, domestic violence and housing insecurity. Fifteen evictions before I left home at 16.
When real life got too hard, I lived in my imagination. Turns out that little girl was building something in there.
Different worlds. Same lesson.
What happened to you matters. What you make from it matters too.
These days Lynesa is teaching me how to take care of the woman who takes care of everybody else. Some of us are very good at loving everyone. We just keep forgetting to put ourselves on the list.

This episode is funny, tender, honest and a little bit messy. Basically, it’s us.
Watch Lynesa Williams on The Dr. Sassy Show. Link in bio.
Put your name back on the list. You belong there too.
#TheDrSassyShow #DrSassy
#LynesaWilliams #WomensHealth

One of us grew up in The Huxtables. The other grew up on Crazy Train.
Somehow, we became sisters.
Lynesa Williams grew up in a loving, stable home and life still handed her pain. I grew up with alcoholism, domestic violence and housing insecurity. Fifteen evictions before I left home at 16.
When real life got too hard, I lived in my imagination. Turns out that little girl was building something in there.
Different worlds. Same lesson.
What happened to you matters. What you make from it matters too.
These days Lynesa is teaching me how to take care of the woman who takes care of everybody else. Some of us are very good at loving everyone. We just keep forgetting to put ourselves on the list.

This episode is funny, tender, honest and a little bit messy. Basically, it’s us.
Watch Lynesa Williams on The Dr. Sassy Show. Link in bio.
Put your name back on the list. You belong there too.
#TheDrSassyShow #DrSassy
#LynesaWilliams #WomensHealth

He grew up between Chicago and Alabama. He has helped hundreds of kids reach the next level, not just as basketball players but as students, teammates, and human beings. In this episode he told me about a first-time player who ended up at the University of Tennessee. About a young girl who kept chasing the game while facing serious vision challenges. What those stories have in common is not talent. It is one adult who kept showing up.

We also got into something close to both of our hearts: kids, screens, and what technology is actually for. There is a difference between using a screen on purpose and disappearing into one. A tool should not replace movement, creativity, connection, or the real world.

And then there is his grandmother’s line, which I have not stopped thinking about since. If you know you’re right, why argue about it?

New episode of The Dr. Sassy Show is out now. Listen in, and then go outside and play.

Find Coach Tony at @thepulluppodcastshow

He grew up between Chicago and Alabama. He has helped hundreds of kids reach the next level, not just as basketball players but as students, teammates, and human beings. In this episode he told me about a first-time player who ended up at the University of Tennessee. About a young girl who kept chasing the game while facing serious vision challenges. What those stories have in common is not talent. It is one adult who kept showing up.

We also got into something close to both of our hearts: kids, screens, and what technology is actually for. There is a difference between using a screen on purpose and disappearing into one. A tool should not replace movement, creativity, connection, or the real world.

And then there is his grandmother’s line, which I have not stopped thinking about since. If you know you’re right, why argue about it?

New episode of The Dr. Sassy Show is out now. Listen in, and then go outside and play.

Find Coach Tony at @thepulluppodcastshow

I stood in front of a room full of parents last night with something in my hand that did not belong to me.

Before we ever got in that room, we asked their kids one question.

What is one tech boundary you wish your parents had?

The kids answered. Then I picked up the phone and read what they said out loud to the people they said it about.

Ring ring. Dr. Sassy here. What’s your problem?

Almost none of these kids asked for fewer rules. Most of them asked for more of you. No phones at dinner. Put it down when I’m talking to you. No more work after four. And then this one, which changed the temperature of the whole room.
Telling me im on my phone too much but they chose their phone over me.

That is not my line. That is somebody’s kid in that building. Their words, their spelling, I did not clean any of it up.

Parents, hear me. This is not a list of your failures. Your child is not filing a complaint about you. Your child is filing a request for you. There is a very big difference and your kid is hoping you can tell.

So we start where I always start.

Turn it off. The screen. The notification. The second job that lives in your pocket after dinner.

Turn it in. Your nervous system sets the temperature of your whole house. When you are running on fight, flight, freeze, fawn, flop, or friend, your family feels it long before you say a word about it. Come back to yourself first. Regulate before you educate.

Turn it up. The music. The game on the floor. The story at bedtime. The good loud noise of a family that is actually together.

Off. In. Up. That is the whole thing.

Swipe through all of it. Then go ask your own kid the question, and be brave enough to sit still in the answer.

I stood in front of a room full of parents last night with something in my hand that did not belong to me.

Before we ever got in that room, we asked their kids one question.

What is one tech boundary you wish your parents had?

The kids answered. Then I picked up the phone and read what they said out loud to the people they said it about.

Ring ring. Dr. Sassy here. What’s your problem?

Almost none of these kids asked for fewer rules. Most of them asked for more of you. No phones at dinner. Put it down when I’m talking to you. No more work after four. And then this one, which changed the temperature of the whole room.
Telling me im on my phone too much but they chose their phone over me.

That is not my line. That is somebody’s kid in that building. Their words, their spelling, I did not clean any of it up.

Parents, hear me. This is not a list of your failures. Your child is not filing a complaint about you. Your child is filing a request for you. There is a very big difference and your kid is hoping you can tell.

So we start where I always start.

Turn it off. The screen. The notification. The second job that lives in your pocket after dinner.

Turn it in. Your nervous system sets the temperature of your whole house. When you are running on fight, flight, freeze, fawn, flop, or friend, your family feels it long before you say a word about it. Come back to yourself first. Regulate before you educate.

Turn it up. The music. The game on the floor. The story at bedtime. The good loud noise of a family that is actually together.

Off. In. Up. That is the whole thing.

Swipe through all of it. Then go ask your own kid the question, and be brave enough to sit still in the answer.

Ron sets the coffee maker the night before. Every night. He sets it for 4:45 so it is already made before either of us is out of bed, which means I have never once in this marriage walked into a kitchen and had to wait.

I found out recently that he does the setting-it-up part last thing, after the house is quiet and I have already gone up. So the coffee I have been thanking him for in the morning was actually made the night before, by a man standing alone in the kitchen thinking about my morning.

I have thanked him for the coffee. I had never thanked him for the 10 p.m. part, because I did not know there was a 10 p.m. part.

That is how most of it works. We are all being loved in ways nobody mentions, by people who have no idea it landed, while we work hard at the grand gestures nobody asked for.

“What’s something I do that makes you feel loved that I probably don’t know about?”

Ask it tonight. Ask your kids too. What a seven-year-old says here will undo you, and it will almost never be the thing you are most proud of.

Save it for dinner. And send it to whoever makes your coffee.

#AroundTheJaggerTable #LessScreenMoreSeen #MarriageAndFamily #Presence

Ron sets the coffee maker the night before. Every night. He sets it for 4:45 so it is already made before either of us is out of bed, which means I have never once in this marriage walked into a kitchen and had to wait.

I found out recently that he does the setting-it-up part last thing, after the house is quiet and I have already gone up. So the coffee I have been thanking him for in the morning was actually made the night before, by a man standing alone in the kitchen thinking about my morning.

I have thanked him for the coffee. I had never thanked him for the 10 p.m. part, because I did not know there was a 10 p.m. part.

That is how most of it works. We are all being loved in ways nobody mentions, by people who have no idea it landed, while we work hard at the grand gestures nobody asked for.

“What’s something I do that makes you feel loved that I probably don’t know about?”

Ask it tonight. Ask your kids too. What a seven-year-old says here will undo you, and it will almost never be the thing you are most proud of.

Save it for dinner. And send it to whoever makes your coffee.

#AroundTheJaggerTable #LessScreenMoreSeen #MarriageAndFamily #Presence

You don’t have to do thirty days. But it’s worth knowing what’s on the other side of three weeks.
30 Day Blackout. The book behind the reset.
#LessScreenMoreSeen

You don’t have to do thirty days. But it’s worth knowing what’s on the other side of three weeks.
30 Day Blackout. The book behind the reset.
#LessScreenMoreSeen

Thank you, Dolly.

I was four years old the first time I saw Dolly Parton on an album cover at Green Hills Mall. Something in that little girl recognized something in her before I had words for it.

I think I have the words now.

Dolly showed girls like me that you could come from humble beginnings and still dream something enormous. That you could be feminine and powerful. Funny and wise. Faithful and fabulous. That you could tell the truth, make people laugh, build something beautiful, and never once pretend you came from somewhere you didn’t.

And that when you finally got somewhere, you reached back and brought people with you.

This morning I am grieving her as a Tennessean, as a woman, and as that four-year-old singing into a red-tipped xylophone mallet on her Holly Hobbie record player.

Thank you, Dolly, for showing us what a life fully your own actually looks like.

A little mountain girl with a big imagination changed the world.

And we will always love you.

#DollyParton #ThankYouDolly #Tennessee #IWillAlwaysLoveY

Thank you, Dolly.

I was four years old the first time I saw Dolly Parton on an album cover at Green Hills Mall. Something in that little girl recognized something in her before I had words for it.

I think I have the words now.

Dolly showed girls like me that you could come from humble beginnings and still dream something enormous. That you could be feminine and powerful. Funny and wise. Faithful and fabulous. That you could tell the truth, make people laugh, build something beautiful, and never once pretend you came from somewhere you didn’t.

And that when you finally got somewhere, you reached back and brought people with you.

This morning I am grieving her as a Tennessean, as a woman, and as that four-year-old singing into a red-tipped xylophone mallet on her Holly Hobbie record player.

Thank you, Dolly, for showing us what a life fully your own actually looks like.

A little mountain girl with a big imagination changed the world.

And we will always love you.

#DollyParton #ThankYouDolly #Tennessee #IWillAlwaysLoveY

Here’s a dinner table conversation starter that works on a seven-year-old and a sixteen-year-old and the man you married.

My kids figured out early that I’d answer almost anything if they asked at the table. Ron found this out later, and I’m not sure he’s recovered.

Because here’s the thing about our kids: they have questions about us. Real ones. They just learn somewhere around age six that most of them aren’t welcome, so they stop asking and start guessing. And they usually guess wrong.

“If you could ask me anything, and I had to tell the truth, what would you ask?”

Ask it tonight. Then actually answer. Age-appropriate, sure, but honest. What you’re really teaching in that moment is that this is a family where you can ask.

Every Monday I share one question from our table for yours. Save this one for dinner and send it to the person you eat with.

Here’s a dinner table conversation starter that works on a seven-year-old and a sixteen-year-old and the man you married.

My kids figured out early that I’d answer almost anything if they asked at the table. Ron found this out later, and I’m not sure he’s recovered.

Because here’s the thing about our kids: they have questions about us. Real ones. They just learn somewhere around age six that most of them aren’t welcome, so they stop asking and start guessing. And they usually guess wrong.

“If you could ask me anything, and I had to tell the truth, what would you ask?”

Ask it tonight. Then actually answer. Age-appropriate, sure, but honest. What you’re really teaching in that moment is that this is a family where you can ask.

Every Monday I share one question from our table for yours. Save this one for dinner and send it to the person you eat with.

Here’s a Friday night I hear described a lot.

Nobody is fighting. That’s what throws people. There’s no problem to point at. The week pulled everyone in a different direction for five days straight, and Friday is the first night nobody is pulling, so the house quietly comes apart into separate rooms and everybody calls it rest.

Then somebody ends up in the kitchen around 8:30 wondering why the one night with nowhere to be is the loneliest one of the week.

The families who turn that around almost never do it with a plan. Plans are for Monday. It’s usually one faintly ridiculous thing that puts everyone in the same room without requiring anything of them.
I’ve never loved the phrase quality time. It asks more of a Friday than a Friday can give. This is simpler. This is proximity, held long enough that somebody says the thing they’ve been carrying since Tuesday.

The week takes people apart. Friday is where you put them back together.

Here’s a Friday night I hear described a lot.

Nobody is fighting. That’s what throws people. There’s no problem to point at. The week pulled everyone in a different direction for five days straight, and Friday is the first night nobody is pulling, so the house quietly comes apart into separate rooms and everybody calls it rest.

Then somebody ends up in the kitchen around 8:30 wondering why the one night with nowhere to be is the loneliest one of the week.

The families who turn that around almost never do it with a plan. Plans are for Monday. It’s usually one faintly ridiculous thing that puts everyone in the same room without requiring anything of them.
I’ve never loved the phrase quality time. It asks more of a Friday than a Friday can give. This is simpler. This is proximity, held long enough that somebody says the thing they’ve been carrying since Tuesday.

The week takes people apart. Friday is where you put them back together.

Your kid rolls their eyes. Ignores you. Melts down over something that makes absolutely no sense. And you can feel it happening; your jaw tightens, your heart rate climbs, and you’re about three seconds from losing it.

That’s the moment.

The moment to get curious before you get furious. Because behavior is communication.

Instead of asking why are they doing this to me, ask what is happening inside my child right now. Are they hungry? Overwhelmed? Embarrassed? Disconnected? Do they need a boundary, or do they need comfort?

Curiosity doesn’t mean you ignore the bad behavior. It means you regulate yourself before you try to regulate your child.

So tonight, when that moment comes, take one breath and ask: what does my child need right now that they don’t know how to ask for?

You may not know the answer. That’s okay. Sometimes the most powerful thing a parent can do is pause long enough to see the child underneath the behavior.

Get curious before you get furious.

Your kid rolls their eyes. Ignores you. Melts down over something that makes absolutely no sense. And you can feel it happening; your jaw tightens, your heart rate climbs, and you’re about three seconds from losing it.

That’s the moment.

The moment to get curious before you get furious. Because behavior is communication.

Instead of asking why are they doing this to me, ask what is happening inside my child right now. Are they hungry? Overwhelmed? Embarrassed? Disconnected? Do they need a boundary, or do they need comfort?

Curiosity doesn’t mean you ignore the bad behavior. It means you regulate yourself before you try to regulate your child.

So tonight, when that moment comes, take one breath and ask: what does my child need right now that they don’t know how to ask for?

You may not know the answer. That’s okay. Sometimes the most powerful thing a parent can do is pause long enough to see the child underneath the behavior.

Get curious before you get furious.

Meta is on trial. But childhood is what’s at stake.

Our children’s attention has become one of the most valuable commodities in the world.

We may not control the algorithms.

But we still control what happens in our homes.

Put the phone down. Look them in the eyes. Go outside. Play.

They only get one childhood. Let’s protect it.

Meta is on trial. But childhood is what’s at stake.

Our children’s attention has become one of the most valuable commodities in the world.

We may not control the algorithms.

But we still control what happens in our homes.

Put the phone down. Look them in the eyes. Go outside. Play.

They only get one childhood. Let’s protect it.

Everybody’s back in school, and every house has at least one person in it performing “fine.”

Kids are unbelievably good at this. So are the adults who raised them. We ask “how was your day,” they say “good,” and we all agree to move on because the alternative takes longer than we have.

Ron and I have solved most of our life in this house. Some of it badly. But here’s what fifteen years of sitting with families taught me: you don’t fix anything in the asking. You just find out what’s actually going on.

So we’re starting something. Every Monday, one question from our house to yours.

“What’s one thing about this year you’re nervous about that you haven’t told anybody?”

Ask it tonight. Then don’t fill the silence. The answer usually shows up about four seconds after you’ve decided it isn’t coming.

Save this one for dinner. And send it to whoever you eat with.

#AroundTheJaggerTable #LessScreenMoreSeen #BackToSchool #FamilyConnection

Everybody’s back in school, and every house has at least one person in it performing “fine.”

Kids are unbelievably good at this. So are the adults who raised them. We ask “how was your day,” they say “good,” and we all agree to move on because the alternative takes longer than we have.

Ron and I have solved most of our life in this house. Some of it badly. But here’s what fifteen years of sitting with families taught me: you don’t fix anything in the asking. You just find out what’s actually going on.

So we’re starting something. Every Monday, one question from our house to yours.

“What’s one thing about this year you’re nervous about that you haven’t told anybody?”

Ask it tonight. Then don’t fill the silence. The answer usually shows up about four seconds after you’ve decided it isn’t coming.

Save this one for dinner. And send it to whoever you eat with.

#AroundTheJaggerTable #LessScreenMoreSeen #BackToSchool #FamilyConnection

“Yeti. Spaghetti. Yeti. Spaghetti.”

That’s not a typo. That’s a 15 second game I played on live TV that does more for your kid’s behavior than any lecture ever will.

Here’s the idea: connection before correction. When a child feels seen, heard, and delighted in, before you ever try to correct anything, they become more compliant. Not because they’re scared. Because they’re connected.

The number one mistake I see parents make? Lack of presence. Not lack of love. Not lack of effort. Just presence.

You don’t need a perfect morning routine. You need 15 seconds where your kid knows they have your whole attention.

Try Yeti Spaghetti tonight.
Tell me what happens.

“Yeti. Spaghetti. Yeti. Spaghetti.”

That’s not a typo. That’s a 15 second game I played on live TV that does more for your kid’s behavior than any lecture ever will.

Here’s the idea: connection before correction. When a child feels seen, heard, and delighted in, before you ever try to correct anything, they become more compliant. Not because they’re scared. Because they’re connected.

The number one mistake I see parents make? Lack of presence. Not lack of love. Not lack of effort. Just presence.

You don’t need a perfect morning routine. You need 15 seconds where your kid knows they have your whole attention.

Try Yeti Spaghetti tonight.
Tell me what happens.

Week one has a hard middle. Here is what to do with it.

Week one has a hard middle. Here is what to do with it.

The hardest part of the school day is not happening at school.

It is the fifteen minutes after they walk through the door.

They have been holding it together for seven hours. Following rules, reading the room, managing friendships, sitting still in a body that wanted to move. Then they see your face and the whole thing comes undone.

That is not bad behavior. That is a nervous system finally landing somewhere safe.

So here is what I tell parents to try. Give them a decompression window. Fifteen minutes, no screens, no homework, no how was your day. A snack, some space, and you nearby not asking anything of them.

Let them land before you ask them to perform.

Then at dinner, ask. The child who could not answer a single question at 3:15 will tell you everything at 6:00 with a mouth full of spaghetti.

The hardest part of the school day is not happening at school.

It is the fifteen minutes after they walk through the door.

They have been holding it together for seven hours. Following rules, reading the room, managing friendships, sitting still in a body that wanted to move. Then they see your face and the whole thing comes undone.

That is not bad behavior. That is a nervous system finally landing somewhere safe.

So here is what I tell parents to try. Give them a decompression window. Fifteen minutes, no screens, no homework, no how was your day. A snack, some space, and you nearby not asking anything of them.

Let them land before you ask them to perform.

Then at dinner, ask. The child who could not answer a single question at 3:15 will tell you everything at 6:00 with a mouth full of spaghetti.

Tomorrow morning, your kids are going to take their emotional cues from you before they take a single step out the door.

Not from the outfit. Not from the perfectly packed lunch. From your face. Your voice. Your pace.

So the real prep isn’t the supply list. It’s you.

Tonight, go to bed a little earlier than you want to. Set out what you can so morning has fewer decisions in it. Leave yourself ten extra minutes, because a rushed parent and a nervous kid is a hard way to start a school year.

Then tomorrow, before the shoes and the backpacks, sit down with them for a few minutes. Ask what they’re excited about. Ask what they’re nervous about. Then just listen.

Calm is contagious. So is chaos. You get to pick which one walks out the door with them.

You’ve got this, and so do they.

Dr. Sassy

Tomorrow morning, your kids are going to take their emotional cues from you before they take a single step out the door.

Not from the outfit. Not from the perfectly packed lunch. From your face. Your voice. Your pace.

So the real prep isn’t the supply list. It’s you.

Tonight, go to bed a little earlier than you want to. Set out what you can so morning has fewer decisions in it. Leave yourself ten extra minutes, because a rushed parent and a nervous kid is a hard way to start a school year.

Then tomorrow, before the shoes and the backpacks, sit down with them for a few minutes. Ask what they’re excited about. Ask what they’re nervous about. Then just listen.

Calm is contagious. So is chaos. You get to pick which one walks out the door with them.

You’ve got this, and so do they.

Dr. Sassy

I walked my fifth grader in yesterday and I am telling you, the backpacks are by the door and nobody in this house is ready.

Some of you started this week. Some of you start Monday. Either way, there is a very specific pressure that shows up on a weekend like this one, and the instinct is to fill it.

Here is what I would protect instead.

The best thing you can send with them is not a perfect first-day outfit or a summer that ended big. It is a rested kid who feels seen.

I walked my fifth grader in yesterday and I am telling you, the backpacks are by the door and nobody in this house is ready.

Some of you started this week. Some of you start Monday. Either way, there is a very specific pressure that shows up on a weekend like this one, and the instinct is to fill it.

Here is what I would protect instead.

The best thing you can send with them is not a perfect first-day outfit or a summer that ended big. It is a rested kid who feels seen.

I’m on WSMV Channel 4 today at 2:30 talking about something every parent feels in August: school mornings are hard.

Three simple shifts that change everything:

Screen-free mornings. Wake up to a quiet home and watch the arguing drop.

Prepare the night before. Clothes, lunches, water bottles, screens off an hour before bed. Ten calm minutes tonight creates thirty peaceful minutes tomorrow.

Connect before you correct. Eye contact. A smile. A hug. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Here’s what I keep coming back to: the emotional atmosphere in your home before school becomes the emotional backpack your child carries into the classroom.

Our greatest job isn’t raising perfect students. It’s raising connected children.

Tune in at 2:30, and ask me about Yeti Spaghetti.

I’m on WSMV Channel 4 today at 2:30 talking about something every parent feels in August: school mornings are hard.

Three simple shifts that change everything:

Screen-free mornings. Wake up to a quiet home and watch the arguing drop.

Prepare the night before. Clothes, lunches, water bottles, screens off an hour before bed. Ten calm minutes tonight creates thirty peaceful minutes tomorrow.

Connect before you correct. Eye contact. A smile. A hug. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Here’s what I keep coming back to: the emotional atmosphere in your home before school becomes the emotional backpack your child carries into the classroom.

Our greatest job isn’t raising perfect students. It’s raising connected children.

Tune in at 2:30, and ask me about Yeti Spaghetti.

When you remove a child from the overuse and misuse of screen time and get them back into their organic, natural environment; creativity, nature, movement, play. Many of their behavioral issues and that internal sense of angst? They start going away. On their own.

Not because you fixed something. Because you returned them to something.

Kids aren’t broken. They’re just disconnected from what they were made for.

One small reset tonight: put the device down and go outside together. Even 20 minutes. Watch what happens.

I’m not anti-tech. I’m pro-childhood.

🎙️ Full conversation on The Dr. Sassy Show — link in bio.

When you remove a child from the overuse and misuse of screen time and get them back into their organic, natural environment; creativity, nature, movement, play. Many of their behavioral issues and that internal sense of angst? They start going away. On their own.

Not because you fixed something. Because you returned them to something.

Kids aren’t broken. They’re just disconnected from what they were made for.

One small reset tonight: put the device down and go outside together. Even 20 minutes. Watch what happens.

I’m not anti-tech. I’m pro-childhood.

🎙️ Full conversation on The Dr. Sassy Show — link in bio.

I became the woman I needed when I was a child.

A hurting kid from Nashville who grew up to be a healer for children and families in Nashville. That’s my life’s work, and it cost me a lot of hard years to find it.

I didn’t plan on any of this. I was just trying to survive. Then I wanted to understand what had happened to me. And somewhere in there, helping quietly became the whole thing.

If you’re in the middle of a hard season right now, you’re in the right place. The reset is real. I’ve lived it.

I became the woman I needed when I was a child.

A hurting kid from Nashville who grew up to be a healer for children and families in Nashville. That’s my life’s work, and it cost me a lot of hard years to find it.

I didn’t plan on any of this. I was just trying to survive. Then I wanted to understand what had happened to me. And somewhere in there, helping quietly became the whole thing.

If you’re in the middle of a hard season right now, you’re in the right place. The reset is real. I’ve lived it.

I’m not anti-tech. I’m pro-childhood.

That’s the shortest version of my life’s work.
The longer version: I’m Dr. Stacy Jagger. Most people call me Dr. Sassy. I’ve spent over twenty years as a family therapist, and somewhere along the way I ended up on stages, in boardrooms, behind a podcast mic, and in front of Congress talking about what screens are quietly costing our kids. I wrote a book called 30 Day Blackout in 2019, back when telling a family to unplug for a month mostly got me blank stares.

But before any of that, I was a musician. I still keep a guitar in my therapy office, because some weeks a song gets where a sentence can’t.

Here’s what I actually believe. Connection is medicine. Children don’t need perfect parents, they need present ones. And the reset a family is looking for almost always starts with the grownup.
This is where I show up. Real, warm, and with one thing you can try tonight.

Glad you’re here.

I’m not anti-tech. I’m pro-childhood.

That’s the shortest version of my life’s work.
The longer version: I’m Dr. Stacy Jagger. Most people call me Dr. Sassy. I’ve spent over twenty years as a family therapist, and somewhere along the way I ended up on stages, in boardrooms, behind a podcast mic, and in front of Congress talking about what screens are quietly costing our kids. I wrote a book called 30 Day Blackout in 2019, back when telling a family to unplug for a month mostly got me blank stares.

But before any of that, I was a musician. I still keep a guitar in my therapy office, because some weeks a song gets where a sentence can’t.

Here’s what I actually believe. Connection is medicine. Children don’t need perfect parents, they need present ones. And the reset a family is looking for almost always starts with the grownup.
This is where I show up. Real, warm, and with one thing you can try tonight.

Glad you’re here.

.pro-gallery-wix-wrapper {display: block !important;} .pro-gallery-wix-wrapper .gallery-item-container {opacity: 1 !important; display: block !important;}

On Instagram

@thedrsassyjagger

bottom of page