The clinician who actually picks up.
I’m a Doctor of Physical Therapy who spent seven years on Active Duty in the US Navy before pivoting to physical therapy and pediatrics. I’ve worked on naval ships, in outpatient clinics, and on the floor of more living rooms than I can count. The best work I do is the latter.
Terran Through Milestones exists because the kids who need help most, babies and toddlers in the first three years, are the ones whose families have the least time to drive to a clinic. I bring the clinic to you, I answer your texts, and I tell you the truth about whether what you’re seeing is a red flag or a phase.
The longer version
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, the youngest of seven, the kid who could disappear into a Lego project for six hours and emerge with a small civilization. The person who shaped me most was my sister Kelsey. She always picked up. When she unexpectedly passed away, I carried forward the one thing she never failed at: showing up for the people who needed her. That’s the clinician I try to be.
I started my PT career in adult outpatient orthopedics and hit burnout fast. Around the same time, my wife Alexis’s active duty Navy career took her on deployment, and I needed work that could flex around solo-parenting. A friend told me, “You’re a good dad. You should look at peds.” The first time I sat on a living room floor with a 10-month-old and watched a parent exhale because someone finally took their worry seriously, I knew. That’s when the pieces, Kelsey’s example, my own parenting reality, the kind of clinician I wanted to be, all clicked into place.
What PT school didn’t teach me is that the technical knowledge matters less than the softer skills. Can you talk to a parent at 7:30 AM when the baby’s been up all night? Can you explain a delay without scaring them? Can you tell a family their kid is fine and mean it? That’s the actual job.
With my wife, Alexis, in Seattle.
What shapes how I show up
I’m a military spouse who has lived solo-parenting through multiple deployments. I know what it’s like to have a toddler melting down while a five-year-old needs to be somewhere and the dog is eating something he shouldn’t. When I tell families I get it, I’m not speaking from a textbook. I’m in it with you.
I was diagnosed with adult ADHD later than most. That experience taught me what it feels like to be told “you’re fine” when something’s actually going on, and why I take parents seriously when they say something feels off with their kid, even if they can’t name it yet. If your gut says to ask, ask. That’s how I’d want someone to treat my family, and it’s how I treat yours.
Everyone says they want a village, but nobody wants to be a villager. Part of what I’m building with Terran Through Milestones is an actual village, clinicians who show up, parents who feel heard, and a practice where nobody has to white-knuckle the first three years alone.