Your Kid Needs Someone Who Isn’t You, with Chelsea Handler

Becky introduces Chelsea Handler as someone who once joked that “kids, they’re not that great,” yet has three girls in her life who call her “Dad,” 11 nieces and nephews, and voluntarily took parenting classes. Becky asks listeners not to dismiss Chelsea because she does not manage the daily frustrations of raising children, but to look for an outside perspective they might try for five minutes. She compares this to seeking work advice from someone outside the day-to-day: their limited information matters, but can still reveal useful “nuggets.” Becky also warns that the episode contains salty language.

Chelsea explains that the three girls entered her life through former partners, but she noticed they lacked consistent attention, love, and support. Because she was not occupied by motherhood or her own children’s circumstances, she felt she had bandwidth to fill those gaps. Her own childhood—being the youngest of six, experiencing her brother’s unexpected death, and receiving little emotional processing at home—helped her recognize neglect in the girls. She wanted them to learn that love could be consistent and unconditional, people could be trustworthy and nonjudgmental, and their difficult family dynamics were not the only possible way to experience relationships.

Chelsea credits her third-grade teacher, Mrs. Sheckman, with noticing that grief and family size left her emotions unattended. The teacher responded with extra kindness, empathy, and affection, making Chelsea feel valuable and special when her family was not equipped to address what had happened. Chelsea says that experience shaped her determination to show up for the girls, particularly when one was repeatedly told she was not smart or good enough and had begun to believe it. She also worried about bullying and hostility among girls, and wanted them to learn that other girls could be friends rather than threats.

Chelsea’s parenting therapist taught her not to match a child’s anger: the adult should act like the adult, acknowledge that the situation is difficult, and remain present without immediately punishing or rewarding. Becky connects this to the safety of saying, “I’m not going anywhere,” while a child has their “spin cycle.” Chelsea says her role is different from a parent’s because she is associated with fun—vacations, shopping, and treats—but fun becomes more stabilizing when paired with reliability. The therapist also replaced Chelsea’s instinct to use trips as rewards with a “consistency system” built from food, safety, and security.

During a driving lesson, one girl with a learner’s permit reversed while the car’s back door was still open, scratching a nearby parked car. The girl became hysterical, but Chelsea immediately accepted responsibility, told her everything was fine, contacted the other renters, and explained that insurance would handle it. The girl could not calm down for hours because she expected punishment; Chelsea recognized that her reaction revealed how damaged her view of authority figures had become. Months later in Whistler, after accidentally bumping someone’s skis, the same girl calmly decided to find the person and explain what happened. Chelsea saw the change as evidence that consistent safety can alter a child’s expectations.

Becky says parents often enter “fault mode,” treating a child’s mistake as evidence that they have failed, rather than asking how to solve the problem together. She suggests explicitly telling a child, “I blame you or someone” is a pattern she wants to change, and inviting the child to call it out. Both agree that behavior is not fixed: change can begin with a small step, produce a better result, and then be repeated. Becky emphasizes that Chelsea can observe children without turning their behavior into a verdict on her parenting, while Chelsea says the lesson applies to her own tendency to blame others and to the adults around her.

Chelsea says reliability must be built day after day, including when children pull away. She compares this to filling a marble jar: one conflict cannot empty a jar that has been steadily filled with care. Becky describes sitting in the kitchen without a phone when her teenager returns from sports, even if he only gets food and leaves; those apparently empty moments may make it possible for him to talk later at 11:30 p.m. Chelsea adds that children become more trustworthy when adults trust them. A 16-year-old who was allowed to use her Whistler house responsibly later returned an edible and $200 he found, along with a note warning that children might encounter them.

Chelsea says adults should respect children’s interests, play their games, watch their TikTok dances, and spend time in quiet “rot days” without forcing conversation. She believes phones should be put away at meals and that children should read, but otherwise wants them to have autonomy. Her own boundaries are poor: she lets people move in, borrow her car, or use her home, and often ignores warnings that others are taking advantage because she does not want to become suspicious or less generous. The family rule she would abolish is forcing children to greet visitors or perform thanks on command; she prefers privately exploring why a child did not say hello and helping them solve the difficulty.

Chelsea remembers being loved but insufficiently monitored: at eight or nine she could spend whole weekends at a friend’s house, play Atari until midnight, or disappear without her parents seeming concerned. She also remembers tenderness, including beach time with her father and reading and Almond Joys with her mother. She urges adults to name children’s strengths repeatedly, because every child wants to hear what they do well. Becky closes by planning to tell each child one specific thing she admires, without expecting gratitude or a visible confidence boost. She and Chelsea agree that five intentional minutes—playing a game, listening without questions, or staying calm during anger—can matter even when the rest of the day is imperfect.