John Gottman Attracts His First Internet Obsessive

gottman.jpgEarly in our parenting career, we took a Bringing Baby Home class developed by UW researcher John Gottman. He gave us better parenting advice than any other resource, at least until we saw the Blue's Clues episode about being frustrated. (Stop, breathe, and think is our new mantra.)

So we were intrigued to discover Why I Hate John Gottman. What did he do? Whose life did his advice steer onto the rocky shore? Someone who calls herself Free Kitty Speech -- and whose problems with Gottman turn out to be much deeper than some bad advice. From an unanswered letter she sent to the American Psychiatric Association:

The experience I want to tell you about regards the pyschologist John Gottman. He is located in Seattle and I am sure he is a member of your organization. I am at a loss because I find myself having dreams of harassment by him, but I have no one to speak to about this issue. The dreams are quite explicit. Who do you talk with when abuse is taking place in your mind and you feel like you have no recourse? I figured the APA would at least register my complaint. If you acknowledge memories and dreams of experiences from sexual abuse victims known as "recessive memories" and take action I am sure you will at least listen to my experience . According to Carl Jung, dreams are compilations of "archetypes". The archetypes are a part of are conciousness and have a strong significance. Suffice it to say that either recessive memories or archetypes are playing a role in the abusive dreams I having of John Gottman.

"If only everyone could see my dreams and my haunted thoughts you would all agree he is not the same man as he claims to be," concludes one post. Are you sure it's not Charles Mudede haunting your skull, ma'am?

In all seriousness, we wish you luck exorcising Gottman from your head, Free Kitty Speech, but we suspect you'll only succeed after you realize he's not the one with the power to put himself there.

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True story. I was over at my sister's house and I couldn't find my car keys. I was getting sort-of mock angry about it, tossing coats around.

I finally find them, and as I'm leaving, my five-year-old niece comes up and says:

"Uncle Seth, whenever you lose your keys, I want to you Stop. Breathe. Think."

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