
Hi, I'm Skylar Anderson.
If you're here, chances are you're looking for answers, support, or simply someone who understands the challenges your child may be facing. As a parent, it can be heartbreaking to watch your child struggle with confidence, behavior, emotions, friendships, school, or everyday life—and not know where to turn for help.
I understand that feeling.
As a Registered Behavior Technician (RBT), WISDOM Coach®, children's author, and future Board Certified Behavior Analyst (BCBA), I have dedicated my career to helping children discover their strengths, build confidence, and develop the skills they need to thrive.
Over the years, I have worked with children from many different backgrounds, including children in foster care, children with autism and ADHD, children facing behavioral challenges, and children who simply need extra support navigating life's ups and downs. Through those experiences, I have learned one important truth: every child is unique, and there is no one-size-fits-all approach to helping them succeed.
My goal is never to "fix" a child. Children are not broken.
Instead, I focus on helping children better understand themselves, build confidence in their abilities, manage big emotions, develop healthy coping skills, and learn how to overcome challenges in positive ways. Whether a child struggles with self-esteem, frustration, anxiety, negative self-talk, social skills, or emotional regulation, I provide encouragement, guidance, and practical tools they can use both now and throughout their lives.
Many parents ask what a children's coach actually does.
Think of me as a supportive mentor who walks alongside your child, helping them discover their strengths, build resilience, develop a positive mindset, and gain confidence in who they are. Coaching provides a safe and encouraging space where children can learn, grow, and practice the skills that help them succeed at home, in school, and in their relationships.
I believe every child has incredible potential. Sometimes they simply need someone who believes in them, helps them recognize their own strengths, and gives them the tools to reach them.
If your child is struggling—or if you simply want to help them build confidence, resilience, and a stronger foundation for the future—I would be honored to support your family on that journey.
Because every child deserves to feel confident, capable, valued, and understood.
To provide compassionate, effective coaching that empowers children to overcome challenges, build confidence, and achieve emotional well-being. We support all children on their journey to self-discovery, offering life coaching that fosters resilience, self-worth, and a deeper understanding of who they are and what they can become.

My approach focuses on empowering children through stories, projects, activities, and problem-solving scenarios. I am the owner of Enchanting Hearts, LLC, and I have a passion for working with autistic children, those with behavioral challenges, and children with developmental and learning disabilities. With over seven years of experience as a Registered Behavior Technician and now a Certified WISDOM Coach®, I base my programs on the "Adventures in Wisdom™" framework. My diverse experiences have provided me with a deep understanding and connection to children, and I am committed to supporting them in all aspects of their lives.

As parents, grandparents, foster parents, and caregivers, we spend so much time trying to correct behaviors that we sometimes miss the message hidden behind them.
A child who suddenly becomes angry, withdrawn, disrespectful, anxious, clingy, or defiant is often trying to communicate something they don't have the words to explain.
What if the behavior isn't the problem?
What if the behavior is the clue?
Eight-year-old Lily had always been a happy child. She loved drawing pictures, telling stories, and spending time with her family.
Then things began to change.
She started arguing over little things. Homework became a battle. She cried over problems that seemed insignificant. Her teacher reported that she was distracted and no longer participating in class.
Everyone had an opinion.
"She's being dramatic."
"She's just seeking attention."
"She needs more discipline."
But no one asked Lily what was really happening.
As the weeks passed, her behavior worsened. Her parents tried consequences, rewards, lectures, and stricter rules. Nothing seemed to help.
One afternoon, while talking with a child life coach, Lily quietly admitted something she had been carrying alone.
She was terrified.
A close friend had moved away. She felt lonely at school. She was struggling to make new friends and worried constantly that nobody liked her. Every day she walked into school feeling anxious and afraid.
The anger wasn't the problem.
The tears weren't the problem.
The attitude wasn't the problem.
They were symptoms of a hurting heart.
Once Lily had a safe place to talk, learn coping skills, build confidence, and understand her feelings, everything began to change. Not overnight—but little by little.
She started smiling again.
She felt heard.
She felt understood.
Most importantly, she felt capable of handling her challenges.
Children rarely walk up to an adult and say:
"I'm struggling with anxiety."
"I'm feeling rejected."
"I'm overwhelmed."
"My self-esteem is falling apart."
Instead, they communicate through behavior.
A child may:
When we focus only on correcting behavior, we risk missing the deeper issue.
Child life coaching helps children identify, understand, and express their emotions in healthy ways.
Rather than focusing solely on consequences and correction, coaching focuses on connection.
Children learn:
✅ Confidence-building skills
✅ Healthy communication
✅ Emotional awareness
✅ Problem-solving strategies
✅ Positive self-talk
✅ Resilience during difficult situations
A child who feels understood is often much more willing to cooperate, grow, and succeed.
The next time a child is struggling, try asking:
Sometimes the greatest breakthrough comes not from changing a child's behavior, but from understanding the pain, fear, confusion, or frustration behind it.
At Enchanting Hearts LLC, we believe every behavior tells a story.
Behind every meltdown, every tear, every angry outburst, and every moment of withdrawal is a child who wants to be understood.
When we slow down and listen to the quiet clues, we can help children build confidence, overcome challenges, and discover the strength that has been inside them all along.
Because sometimes the child who appears to be acting out is actually reaching out.
And that child may simply need someone willing to listen.

Bullying can leave deep emotional scars that follow a child long after the teasing, exclusion, or harassment stops. Unlike a single argument or disagreement, bullying is repeated and intentional, often making a child feel powerless, isolated, and ashamed. Many children who are bullied begin to believe the hurtful messages they hear about themselves. Over time, this can lead to anxiety, depression, withdrawal from friends and activities, declining school performance, and in some cases even thoughts of self-harm. What makes bullying particularly damaging is that it often happens in environments where children are supposed to feel safe—schools, playgrounds, sports teams, and even online communities.
Helping a child who is being bullied starts with listening without judgment and taking their experience seriously. Children need to know they are believed and supported. Encourage them to talk about what is happening and reassure them that the bullying is not their fault. Parents and caregivers can help by documenting incidents, communicating with teachers or school administrators, and working with the school to create a safety plan. It is also important to help the child rebuild confidence by strengthening friendships, encouraging activities where they feel successful, and teaching them safe ways to respond or seek help when bullying occurs. Above all, a child who is being bullied needs consistent reminders that they are valued, supported, and never alone in facing the problem.

When Criticism Changes a Child’s Brain: Understanding the Hyperactive Stress Response
There are children who live in homes where yelling is rare…but criticism is constant.
Not always screaming.
Not always abuse in the way people imagine it.
Sometimes it sounds like:
And while adults may see those words as “discipline,” a child’s nervous system often experiences something very different.
Modern neuroendocrine research is showing us something important:
Children exposed to frequent, ongoing criticism can develop a hyperactive HPA axis—the body’s central stress response system.
That means their brain and body begin preparing for danger…even when danger is no longer present.
Please read the rest of this in my blog section....

Emma sat on the floor, staring at her tiny pink sneakers like they were monsters.
“It’s time to go,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Can you please put them on?”
“No!” she screamed, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
We were already late. I felt the familiar frustration bubbling up. It’s just shoes. Why does this have to be a battle?
Then I remembered: This wasn’t about shoes.
Emma had spent years in foster care before coming to live with us. Her caseworker once told me she had been moved seven times. Seven homes in four years. How many of those moves began with someone saying, “It’s time to go”?
I took a breath, knelt down, and said softly, “It’s hard to go places when you don’t feel safe, isn’t it?”
She froze.
“Can I sit with you while we get ready? You don’t have to do this alone,” I said, holding out my hand.
After a moment, she crawled into my lap. We sat together for a while — no rush, no pressure — until finally, she whispered, “Will you help me?”
We put her shoes on together.
That day, I learned that sometimes what looks like defiance is really fear. And sometimes the greatest gift we can give a child is not a quick fix, but the safety of knowing they don’t have to face hard things alone.
Every behavior tells a story. The question is: Are we willing to listen?
Lila was six years old when the sky fell.
At least, that’s what it felt like.
It started with a loud boom — thunder so strong it rattled the windows. Lila covered her ears and ducked under the kitchen table.
Her foster mom, Miss Kara, found her there, knees pulled up tight, breathing fast.
“Sweetheart, it’s just a storm,” Miss Kara said gently.
Just a storm? Lila thought. But storms meant danger. She remembered a night when yelling turned to slamming doors, and slamming doors turned to sirens, and sirens meant she had to leave. She’d learned long ago that loud noises usually meant something bad was coming.
“Can I stay here?” Lila whispered.
Miss Kara sat down on the floor beside her. “Of course. But can I tell you a secret?”
Lila peeked out.
“When I was little, storms scared me too. So my mom taught me a trick. Every time the thunder boomed, we counted the seconds until the lightning flashed. It helped me feel brave.”
Lila tilted her head. “Brave?”
“Brave,” Miss Kara said with a smile.
So they counted. One… two… three… crash! They both jumped.
“You know what else helped?” Miss Kara said. “Knowing I wasn’t alone.”
Lila scooted closer until she was leaning against Miss Kara’s side.
The sky still rumbled, but somehow it didn’t feel as heavy.
For kids who’ve experienced trauma, ordinary events can feel like the sky is falling. What calms them isn’t minimizing their fear — it’s joining them in it.
Sometimes, the best way to help a child through the storm isn’t to tell them it’s safe — but to sit beside them until they believe it.
“Happy birthday!” everyone cheered as Jamal walked into the kitchen.
But Jamal didn’t smile. He froze, eyes darting between the cake, the balloons, and the faces staring at him.
“You don’t like it?” his foster mom, Ms. Diaz, asked, confused.
“I don’t want it,” Jamal said, his voice low.
He ran to his room, leaving the candles flickering behind him.
Later, Ms. Diaz found him hiding under his blanket. “Can I sit with you?” she asked.
Jamal shrugged.
“Birthdays used to mean my mom promised she’d come,” he whispered. “She never did. So I don’t want to do them anymore.”
Ms. Diaz’s heart broke. “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “How about we make new birthdays? Ones where you choose what happens?”
For the first time all day, Jamal peeked out. “Like no cake?”
“Exactly,” she said.
And together, they started planning his first birthday that felt safe.
Lesson for Caregivers:
Reflection Questions:
“Happy birthday!” everyone cheered as Jamal walked into the kitchen.
But Jamal didn’t smile. He froze, eyes darting between the cake, the balloons, and the faces staring at him.
“You don’t like it?” his foster mom, Ms. Diaz, asked, confused.
“I don’t want it,” Jamal said, his voice low.
He ran to his room, leaving the candles flickering behind him.
Later, Ms. Diaz found him hiding under his blanket. “Can I sit with you?” she asked.
Jamal shrugged.
“Birthdays used to mean my mom promised she’d come,” he whispered. “She never did. So I don’t want to do them anymore.”
Ms. Diaz’s heart broke. “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “How about we make new birthdays? Ones where you choose what happens?”
For the first time all day, Jamal peeked out. “Like no cake?”
“Exactly,” she said.
And together, they started planning his first birthday that felt safe.
Lesson for Caregivers:
Reflection Questions:
Eli didn’t have the words for his big feelings, not yet. At two and a half, his vocabulary was still small, but his world was already big and confusing.
Every Thursday morning, his foster mom, Miss Annie, packed his little blue backpack with snacks, wipes, and his favorite stuffed bear, Teddy.
“Ready to see Mama?” she’d ask gently.
Eli’s eyes lit up. “Mama!”
The car ride always felt long. But when the door opened and Mama’s arms scooped him up, everything felt right. Her smell, her laugh, her voice — it all felt like home.
But then… it was over.
The nice lady in the office said, “Time to go back, Eli.” Mama’s face got tight, and she kissed him too many times all at once.
Then he was back in Miss Annie’s car. Back to the other house.
That night, Eli cried in his crib, reaching for Teddy. He wasn’t sure which house was his, or why he couldn’t stay with Mama.
Miss Annie came in, rubbing his back. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered. “You’re safe.”
But Eli didn’t want safe. He wanted Mama.
Lesson for Caregivers:
Reflection Questions:
Noah was always moving.
If he wasn’t running, he was yelling. If he wasn’t yelling, he was hitting. If he wasn’t hitting, he was breaking something.
His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lopez, were exhausted.
“We’ve tried timeouts, charts, consequences,” Mr. Lopez said. “Nothing works.”
One night, after a particularly hard day at school, Noah exploded. He threw his backpack, screamed, and kicked a hole in the wall.
Mrs. Lopez knelt down beside him, tears in her own eyes. “Buddy… what’s going on? Why are you so mad?”
Noah’s face crumpled. “I don’t know,” he sobbed. “My head just… feels too big. I can’t make it stop.”
That night, they didn’t lecture him. They held him.
The next week, they found a therapist who specialized in trauma and regulation. Noah learned to name his feelings. They learned how to help him calm his body before it boiled over.
It wasn’t perfect. But slowly, the boy who couldn’t calm down learned that he didn’t have to do it alone.
Lesson for Caregivers:
Reflection Questions:
Thank you Mrs. R for sharing this with us!
A Story for Parents Learning to Listen Beyond the Behaviors
It was a Tuesday night, and my patience had been thin all day.
Dinner had been an hour-long standoff, homework ended in tears, and now my daughter was stomping down the hall, slamming her bedroom door so hard the walls shook.
I wanted to yell, “Enough already!” I wanted to tell her she was being dramatic. Instead, I sank into the couch, staring at the door she’d just disappeared behind.
That’s when it hit me. I remembered reading about it on your website. It wasn’t about broccoli at dinner or the math worksheet. My child wasn’t trying to make my night hard. She was trying to tell me something, and she didn’t know how.
So I knocked.
“I don’t want to talk!” she yelled.
“I know,” I said softly. “But I’ll sit outside the door until you’re ready. You’re not in trouble. I just want to understand.”
Five minutes later, the door opened, and she looked to see if I was there. She sat on the floor next to me, tears streaming down her face.
“I had a bad day,” she whispered. “The kids were mean at recess, and then I got in trouble at school. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d be mad too.”
In that moment, all the battles of the day disappeared. My little girl didn’t need discipline. She needed a safe place to land.
That night, I learned one of the hardest and most important lessons in parenting: our kids’ big behaviors are often tiny voices screaming for help.
Lesson for Parents: Hearing the Heart Behind the Behavior
When children act out, it’s easy to focus on the defiance or disrespect. But often, behaviors are just signals of unmet needs:
~Fear or stress from school, friendships, or home changes.
~Overwhelm from sensory overload or big emotions they can’t regulate.
~Shame from feeling like they’ve disappointed you.
The next time your child slams a door, talks back, or melts down, PAUSE a minute.
Step back from the power struggle.
Get curious. Ask yourself, “What’s really going on beneath this reaction?”
CONNECT before CORRECTING.
Let them know they are safe with you before addressing the behavior.
Children learn to regulate when they feel understood.
Sometimes the greatest discipline isn’t about consequences, it’s about connection.
YOUR TURN:
When was the last time you heard the heart behind your child’s behavior? Share your story. You never know who needs to hear it.
Call for your free consultation!
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