Bedtime stories: and how I accidentally made our bedtime routine easier.
Some of the best things were invented accidentally: chocolate chip cookies, the Slinky, and even pacemakers, for example. (Wow!)
One special night during our standard bedtime routine, I accidentally invented a magical pillowcase. My then- four-year-old child was nestling down after her bedtime story, and suddenly didn't want her blanket. Or a sheet. She wanted something different: in her words, "just a little blanket to match my little body, but a light one." Fumbling through my linen closet to see what we had, I grabbed a king-sized pillowcase. I brought it to her and it was exactly the size she had in mind.
Well, ummmm...of course I did! My answer was obviously yes, and with that, her smile was brighter than all the stars in the sky. It was far more magical than the pillowcase.
Even now that she's almost six, she still sleeps with her magical pillowcase every night after bedtime stories. Knowing that she's holding a pillowcase full of my love has made bedtime a peaceful and happy time. She still asks about the hugs, snuggles, and kisses. They're always in there, of course. It's the kind of sweetness that makes me fall in love with her all over again.
Good sleep habits are important, as everyone knows (and as the National Sleep Foundation reminds us, too). Fortunately, there are many gentle ways, and effective sleep routines, to 
promote hitting the hay. We've used the same routine, plus or minus some tweaks, since she was two. She's almost six now.
Our bedtime routine takes 30 to 60 minutes. I plan for the long version and that reduces my anxiety about what I "need to get done" afterwards.
After dinner, even now that my child is older, I carry her upstairs. (Yes, many would say she's too big for this, but I'll do it as long as my body lets me and she wants me to do it.) She puts on her jammies, we say prayers and sing lullabies and brush teeth and go potty. We do the steps in the same order every night, and I conclude with a special saying about love that I've told her every night since she was born.
(afflinks)
asleep feeling connected and loved? It's four stories in one, so we pick and choose depending how much time she needs to wind down.
understanding.
separation day or night, including the times I haven't stayed in the room for my child to sleep. She knows we're connected even if I'm not physically there.Once we're done with the other steps, I crawl under the covers with her and we talk about 
whatever she wants to for about 15 minutes. I often ask her the three questions that I've written about previously. Then she gets into what she calls her "sleeping position." We say "Night night, I love you, sweet dreams" several times at her request. I give her a hug and a kiss, then out the door I go. She falls asleep on her own a couple of minutes thereafter.
If she can't sleep, she calls me, usually for "one more question." I come back, answer her question, and give her an extra hug and kiss. Repeating that part of the bedtime routine, when necessary, is very calming for her. She trusts that I'll always return if she needs me. Reading a book (usually from the aforementioned list of bedtime stories) is a great activity to help my child relax. We repeat them because a routine is, well, routine.
Watching TV is what my husband does to wind down. My child and I can't look at big screens for at least a couple of hours before bed. It's just too stimulating for us. Bedtime baths don't work for 
my child, either---also too stimulating. Some people listen to music to wind down. Not us, for the same reason (plus, it keeps "playing" mentally and causes trouble falling asleep). I remember not being able to "count sheep" when I was little---they just kept jumping, and I didn't know how to "turn them off." 🙂 A lullaby and bedtime story are enough for us.
Some people find that playful roughhousing with their kids helps them relax, but that's not our story. I absolutely will be upbeat and loving, and in a calm way, playful. Positive connection of any kind makes for a very good bedtime routine.
Call us sensitive people because, well, we are. Calm is a good thing for us.
Creating a bedtime routine that promotes good sleep habits, in a safe and loving environment, helps reduce sleep problems now and down the road. Know what's developmentally normal, too---some kids, especially babies, naturally wake in the middle of the night.
Want to know something? I'm an adult and I wake up at night, too. I'd stay asleep if I could and suspect the same is true for my child. As adults, we never know when a child has a growing pain, an impending illness, a growth spurt, a developmental leap, or a jolting dream that's hard to separate from reality. Kids wake up for lots of completely valid reasons.
A child learns to sleep one way or another; and my parenting style is to respond to my child whenever she needs me. I don't write that judgmentally; I share it to let you know you're not alone if you're doing that and getting pushback from anyone. Nighttime parenting is parenting, too.
May everyone in your family have sweet dreams tonight!
"Today is my birthday," Jenny* whispered in a class I help teach, clearly feeling proud. I asked if it would be alright if the class sang her the "happy birthday" song, and she nodded eagerly. So, wanting to help this child feel happy, loved, and valued everywhere she went that day, we gave her lots of attention, which she gleefully accepted.
A few minutes into the class, I inquired, "So, how old are you today?" She responded with all the confidence in the world, "I think I'm about five and a half!"
Her response made me laugh.
And then, I confess that a small part of me was tempted to renege on the celebrating.
Catching myself in my "over-adulting," though, I think she was doing exactly what many of us should embrace: celebrating life, just for the heck of it. So, on we went, celebrating her special "five and a half-ish" birthday, just as it was.
"I'm so glad you're here," we said.
"It's really fun to dance with you," we informed.
I sensed nothing manipulative in her motives. She just wanted to feel some impromptu joy, so she created it. And we followed her lead. What makes a child feel happy is knowing he or she is important.
Happy kids not only feel better, but studies show that they also do better academically and otherwise. So we, as adults, have plenty of motivation to help them feel comfortable and joyful. To be clear, I don't believe anyone can "make" anyone else happy. However, there are many tangible things the adults in their lives can do to help kids feel happy, loved, and valued. Here are four of my favorites.
This is different from you loving them; it's helping them feel it in the ways they uniquely need according to their (not your) love language. It's the way they can best understand the strength of your love: your knowing what makes this specific child happy. This insightful book outlines five love languages, including gifts, acts of service, touch, quality time, and words of affirmation.
Even if their love language is "gifts," research shows that giving to others reaps greater rewards, even for young children. So, use the power of this knowledge wisely, if that's their love language. Whatever their love language is, though, be aware that it might differ from yours. It might take some practice to express love differently for their benefit. What makes a child happy is feeling loved in the ways that speak to their unique heart.
While raising happy children is a priority for parents, it's easy to get caught up in the day-to-day tasks we need to accomplish as responsible adults. Particularly if your child's love language is quality time, involve them in not only the "big things," but also in the little daily events, mundane as they may seem. Even better, combine the power of touch with quality time. I've unloaded the dishwasher with my five-year-old on my hip more times than I can count. (She's nearly half my weight, so it's good exercise, too!) I make eye contact with her and smile, then hand her the dishes that go where she can't normally reach. She puts them in their proper places, happy to connect in the ordinary necessities of life.
We can help kids feel important by involving them in the things that may not matter much to us, but still allow us to connect.
Here, you can cover a lot of happiness bases at once. Find good quality books that not only help children learn about age-appropriate topics, but that also promote joy and a growth mindset. Awhile back, I posted a list of my favorite books to help kids build self-esteem and confidence. However, as I wrote then and I'll state again, the messages "sink in" a lot better if you don't just read the books, but also discuss them with your children. What traits do you see in the characters that your kids do well? Tell them. What helps kids feel important is knowing for sure that you "see" them along with their strengths.
Most kids enjoy when family members read them books, regardless. One part of the kids' enjoyment may be that books can touch on, well, touch (no pun intended). Time on your lap or sitting shoulder-to-shoulder offers physical connection, if that's your child's love language. The words you use when discussing the books easily lend themselves to words of affirmation. Reading together is definitely quality time, and that naturally helps kids feel happy. Even older kids benefit from reading aloud together. I have loving memories of my Mom reading the Nancy Drew series to me long after I could read alone. Her spending time doing something with me that I could do alone, helped me feel important to her.
Every day before bedtime, I ask my daughter three questions that I didn't invent, but that give me helpful insight:
Knowing I'll ask those questions every evening, I'm intentional about making her laugh. I listen to what was hardest and empathize, and I take note of what she enjoyed most so that we can replicate it. Replicating those moments of happiness--not exactly as they happened, but in familiar ways--keeps joy on the forefront of our minds, as well as in our activities. Part of fostering positive child development is knowing the child in front of me.
Oftentimes, it isn't the "big" events that stick out for her. What she cites most often are times she felt emotionally connected, no matter where we were.
Positive parenting helps promote your child's trust in your unconditional love. Connect through dedicated special time together and really "see" your child. Modeling genuine happiness helps, too; studies show that we benefit from observing the habits of happy people of all ages. And that might just mean throwing an impromptu "five and half-ish" birthday party because, well, why not?
I was always a highly introverted child. It showed. For instance, when I was in high school, I learned that for my dance group's upcoming graduation dinner, the other dancers selected me to receive the spoof award for being the "Most Reserved." Knowing how much I despised being called by a "label" like this one, my Mom suggested that I tape a sign that read "I AM NOT SHY" to the back of my underwear. She said that when I walked up to receive the award, I should moon everyone with my, ahem, (not shy side). Although I appreciated her sentiment, I did not take that advice.
Fortunately, the award never happened, but the message to me was clear. I'd known since I was little that I was simply wired differently from some of the louder kids. And being the good parent that she was, my Mom supported me in that.
In general, the mainstream society in which I live views a gregarious extrovert as socially "good," whereas quiet seems to imply some kind of problem. It isn't a problem at all, of course. Well-meaning adults often pursue introverted children who aren't quick to respond with a sweetly teasing inquiry of "Oh, are you shy?" No matter how good-natured the intention, a child can perceive this as, "You, little human, are not okay as you are." Let's fix that.
In truth, the child may not be shy at all. He may just be an observer who wants to find acceptance in the world. We all want that acceptance. Splitting hairs? Nah. For some, it’s actually quite different, and both can be completely developmentally normal. There's a difference between lacking confidence and being an observer who's sure of oneself. Some kids just prefer to enter the pool through the shallow end, so to speak.
Going slowly gives introverted kids the information they need to feel comfortable in new situations. Regardless of your child’s confidence, it's important for an extrovert who might not share the same "wiring" to understand that the seemingly innocent question about shyness can embarrass or cause pain for some introverted children. Talking with someone who's not a parent, sibling, or close friend might be a completely different experience for that child than it is for someone else.
No, it's not. Shy is a feeling alongside a behavior, as in "I felt shy and hid behind my mom when everyone in the room looked at me." Introverted simply means that someone feels recharged after being able to spend time alone, sometimes with a small group of close friends. Spending time with large groups of people can feel emotionally draining. It's usually temporary and is not a reflection of the child overall. Conversely, extroversion means that someone gets his or her "energy" from being around other people.
It's more about the types of interactions that deplete or invigorate us than it is about how we act in any single situation.
No, it's not. Introverted children are not always highly sensitive, nor is extroversion a trait of lack of sensitivity. Plenty of highly sensitive children like to spend time with others and get a lot of energy from being around others. The behavior of highly sensitive children varies considerably from child to child. That said, according to Dr. Elaine Aron, 70% of highly sensitive children (HSCs) are also introverts, so there's a lot of crossover.
Here are some ways you can support them "in the moment."
To you, it might just be another kid's birthday party. To your child, it might be "a place where people I don't know look at me and adults try to talk to me, and noisy kids are everywhere." Rather than telling your child what others expect of him (which she can perceive as pressure), state just the facts and describe what your child is likely to see there. Then, remind your child that you (or another trusted adult) will be with him the whole time. Finally, agree on a script of what he can say if he needs support. If talking to another adult without your involvement is tricky for your child, consider giving him a small "help card" to show that adult, instead.
If you're staying present with your child, try this.
If someone does say something to your child, then ask your child something like this (within earshot of that person): "Would you like to respond, or shall I tell them you prefer to observe?" There are lots of variations you can try here. Now that I have an introverted child of my own, I've had lots of opportunities to practice with her. Once we graduated from this question, we moved onto, "Would you prefer to say 'hi' or wave?"
Remember the importance of your loving, supportive touch along the way. Introverted children need their parents to follow their lead and reassure them in verbal and non-verbal ways. Your positive support will make the experience less hard, and much more positive, for them.
It's fine to encourage without pressuring. One helpful hint is to wait just past where you're comfortable and give your child enough time to respond. Sometimes it just takes a moment; release your expectations that they won't do it. Maybe they will!
Here's how:
If she chooses not to engage with someone who's talking to her, simply tell the other person: "She prefers to observe until she knows people better."
It's sometimes tempting to overcompensate for child who isn't responding to another adult (or child). If you apologize for your child's lack of response, it might placate the other person, but it sends the message to your child that he's done something wrong. Of course that's not your intention!
What should you do instead if your child isn't responding? Simply smile at the other party and continue the conversation normally. It sends that person AND your child the message that this is no big deal. That's great for your child's comfort level and self-esteem. We all feel more compelled to engage when we lack pressure to do so.
"Shy" and all its word-cousins have a stigma in the culture where I live, although they shouldn't. In many countries, it's actually perceived as rude if an extroverted someone is too over-the-top with energy (and words). In my home, we've banished all references to shy, reserved, and similar; instead, if we use any label at all (and we try to avoid them), we use it only as a verb. With child-first language, we say, "My child prefers to observe." I want to raise her knowing that labels don't define her. She's not my "shy child." She's my child.
It's helpful to listen to your children and seek understanding of what resonates with them. Every child's personality and preferences are different.
Spend time talking about a time you preferred to observe as a child. Introverted children love hearing that others have felt the same way they do. Even if you were usually the life of the party, you likely remember a time that you didn't want to be in the middle of the action. Present it as a positive; it's affirmation that your child is perfectly okay just as he or she is. Your child will flourish best when he or she feels like you "get" it. If you worked through a tricky situation, tell your kid how you did it. Explain your own strategies that have worked (while framing introversion in a positive light).
You know your child best. What kind of stimulation does he or she enjoy? Watch them for cues without projecting your own experience, or that which you've seen the media say is "normal." Are your kids happy spending time in simple play with family, or do they require many activities throughout the day with a large amount of socializing? If you contact your child's teacher with questions about how they learn best in class---in groups or individually---that can be a clue, too. If need be, rule out anxiety disorders that may be affecting your child's social-emotional comfort.
Quiet or not, you're raising a person who will look to you for validation that he or she is "good enough" for the world. There's a lot of pressure out there. And you, dear parents, when you support your children just as they are, are doing them a wonderful and necessary service.
If you don't have an introverted child, the best thing you can do is let the quiet ones be, without judgment or comment. The world needs all of us.
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(Amazon afflinks): These books by Susan Cain and others helped me understand many introverted kids better than any others I've found; I highly recommend them. If you are, or know, an introverted or sensitive adult, they provide fantastic insight.
I've thought long and hard about the best books for kids 2020. It's been an odd year; so odd, in fact, that my child said I might as well go ahead and give her all her Christmas gifts early. (Nice try.)
Not that things were necessarily easy when we were little--the playground could be a pretty rough place for everyone, and definitely so for a highly sensitive soul like mine.
Fortunately, some of the best things from our childhoods are still around: great books. They were an incredible source of comfort and connection for me when I was a child, and they are for my child now, too.
That's part of the reason I've chosen some classics to represent the best books for kids 2020 -- keeping the eternal goodness of books alive and well!
I'm keenly aware of how books can help build a child's self-esteem and confidence in this ever-changing world.
Did you know that reading books has particular benefits when you read them aloud together with your child? As Rasumussen College describes in this report, there are many benefits of reading aloud--not only to little kids, but from prenatal days all the way to adolescence! Wow!
That said, when I read to my kiddo and as I've admitted before, I'm something of a book snob. (Forgive me.) I really like good books that we can enjoy together and that engage us both. If I'm going to read a book 10,000 times (as I undoubtedly will), I want to like it, too.
Like I was, my daughter is a gentle and sensitive soul. She approves these as being among the best books for kids 2020, just like I do. Here's what we enjoy about each of them, along with how they build self-esteem and confidence! (afflinks)
Although I typically promote lesser-known authors, this great book for children just happens to be written by a celebrity. What we like most is that it's just an all around feel-good book.
Bonus points that it's witty and downright entertaining. My child and I come away smiling after we read it, even for the millionth time. No matter what mistakes the boy and girl (the main characters) make, they like themselves, anyway. When other kids are unkind, no problem.
Their self-esteem and confidence are independent of others kids' opinions of them (hello, playground wisdom)! (Special note to parents of sensitive kiddos: the so-called unkindness is extremely mild and the positive message is more than strong enough to compensate for it.)
Sometimes life hands us lemons, and these two choose to rise above it every time. We've read this book at least once per week for the past three years or so. It stands the test of time in our house!
I'll begin by saying that I watched a 20-something year-old man tear up (slightly) as he read this one. If your child has ever lamented that his or her creation didn't come out "perfectly," this will resonate. It did very much for my child, just as it did for me.
The character, despite being "perfect" for most of the book, is somehow completely relatable at the same time. If ever there were a book that tells a child that it's okay to relax and enjoy who he or she is, this is it, in our opinion.
It so beautifully captures the joy of letting go of small or big anxieties about who we are. It gives us permission to like ourselves despite our imperfections. What a wonderful gift!
As one final bonus reason I put this among the best books for kids 2020, is that it's SO relatable. We've watched the world turn upside-down this year, and frankly, many of us have made mistakes in front of our kids. This is a great book to help us all feel a bit more normal and connected through our imperfections.
Similar to the book above, the main character in this story wants his drawings to be perfect and is devastated when someone criticizes his work. When he learns that it's okay to be "good enough," he thrives and rediscovers the joy he had lost.
This is on our list of best books for children 2020 because it emphasizes "process over product"---the philosophy that learning happens through the joy of the creation itself, rather than how it looks in the end.
No one can live up to perfection, and this book makes it perfectly okay to just do the best you can.
Well, the title pretty much sums it up! The pictures are silly and simple. The author chooses lots of ways people can be different, and the core of the message is simply that "You're alright just as you are." What an empowering message for kids of all ages. When it comes right down to it, have you ever met anyone who's not different from everyone else in some wonderful way? Anything that boosts kids' self-esteem and confidence, and helps them accept themselves just the way they are, will make it onto our best books for kids list.
We think this is among the very best kids' book series.
These differ from the others on our list in that they're chapter books, but they're appropriate even for young boys and girls. We started reading them when my child was about four years old. By five, she didn't want us to put them down. Still at 7 and with no end in sight, these make our best books for kids 2020 list because they're sincerely engaging. (Even my husband and I look forward to reading them. My guess is that they have no expiration date age-wise, ever.)
Even I wondered how the protagonist of the stories would help each of the magical animals she encountered. The writing is fantastic. The creativity is solid.
And when it comes to building kids' self-esteem and confidence, there's nothing like watching a child who persists despite adversity and solves tricky problems, to show the value of never giving up. She believes in herself and models how to do that. For what it's worth, I've even caught my husband turning pages when our child is nowhere around. They're that good.
The main character, Raffi, is so extremely relatable, feeling different from other kids and wondering if all kids feel that way. He wonders if he’s “normal,” just like many children have. And by “many” children, I mean every human who’s ever been a child. (Yep, that’s all of us.) This book addresses stereotypes of all kinds and how the protagonist finds self-confidence and acceptance, even when everyone else isn't quite like him. It’s a book every parent should read to his or her child, and then read to his or her own inner child, too. It’s exactly the right combination of feel-good message along with important life lesson.
Many of us are comfortable only within our "safe zones," and Scaredy is no exception. He's about as endearing as they come, with all sorts of irrational fears about coming out of his proverbial shell (or in this case, his tree).
Hilariously, we get to join him on his journey to build confidence and trust that the world isn't quite as dangerous as he fears. Like many of these books, it's stood the test of time in our house.
It always makes me smirk, no matter how many times we read it together. It's an excellent (albeit intentionally silly) model to help kids' build self-esteem and confidence.
Rosie has a passion, but she hides it away for fear of mockery. As this story unfolds, however, she transforms into a bold and confident inventor.
What we like about this book is how it demonstrates that even people with good intentions can inadvertently turn kids away from their dreams; but Rosie overcomes that. We all face adversity in life, but this book helps kids build self-esteem and confidence even after emotional roadblocks.
We love how she recovers from the letdowns and bravely pursues her passion!
A great book for younger kids, this is a sweet and wonderful book for children. It speaks beautifully to trusting kids' natural development and readiness for milestones, and how pressure to make them do things before they're ready seldom works.
Despite adversity, Iffy finds himself in a situation that he didn't really want, but proves to himself that he's braver and stronger than he thought. We cheer for this little creature when his confidence shines through, feeling a sense of recognition in ourselves along his journey.
Based on the true story of Nadia Comaneci, Olympic gold medalist, this is another wonderful example of a child overcoming adversity through incredible persistence.
Although my impression of Nadia is that she was confident from the beginning, it would've been easy for her to lose hope along her journey. She didn't start out as one of the best gymnasts in the world. She experienced failure.
But she kept trying, believing in herself and in her abilities. Knowing that the real Nadia went through all of this before success came, it's a lovely example for children to help them build self-esteem and confidence.
My child received this as a gift when she was three. Still now, she loves to read it. With few words, it's a great introduction for showing kids that mistakes can turn out alright, with the right perspective. There's always a bright side, even when something goes wrong!
We believe that if kids can internalize that they can choose their responses to situations that don't turn out how they want, they'll be better off in the long run.
So many of us have had others' agendas imposed upon us, and we've been left to wonder what life would've been like had we pursued our dreams. This is a beautiful story that addresses just that.
Mae, the protagonist of this story, decides she won't settle for what others want. She rises above others' doubts and finds her joy. As I read this book, I wanted to be Mae. She's strong; brave; real. She perseveres.
This is undoubtedly on our list of best books for kids 2020 to help them believe in themselves.
If this isn't the classic children's book to build self-esteem and confidence, I don't know what is. (Heads up to parents of sensitive kiddos: two of the trains bothered my child just a little until she was about 5, so we skipped them until she was ready.)
The little blue engine, as we all know, isn't the biggest or the strongest, but she believes in herself. She has enough heart to pull a load much greater than her own, up a much higher obstacle than she's encountered before. When it all comes down to it, that's exactly what I want my child to know she's capable of.
What's not to love about Piggie and Gerald? These books are funny and clever. As in, they make my husband and me laugh, not to mention our child.
Moreover, they almost always gently teach a lesson; share a moral, at child-level, that's one the child can take with them throughout their life. Best friend trouble? Difficulty sharing? Navigating someone new who wants to play? These and so many more topics are covered beautifully--and always with a happy ending.
P.S. Make sure to check for the sneaky pigeon at the end. He's always up to something.
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Of course, the best way to help your child internalize these wonderful messages is to not only read the books together, but to discuss them, too. What a wonderful way to connect!
Most kids have inherently good negotiation skills. Pull out a chocolate bar and tell kids to divide it up for themselves, and you'll find quick proof of that. When it comes to conflict resolution and self-regulation, however, many adults wonder whether children possess the emotional intelligence and executive functioning skills to navigate that territory. As a result, many grown-ups are quick to intervene and solve social problems for them. After all, emotions are tricky even for us to manage, so it's tempting to guide our kids when we sense trouble. I know because I've done it.
I'll share an example of how much better it can work when kids figure out how to resolve conflict for themselves, however. When I was in a play-based science class with a group of four- to six-year-olds last week, they made "squishy circuits," where they connected two sets of wires, Play Dough, and mini-lightbulbs to the positive and negative ends of batteries in a particular sequence. If they connected everything correctly, the lightbulbs would light up.
Adults were there to help ensure the kids' safety, of course. (Personally, I'm thankful for observing Teacher Tom in action at another school I visit weekly. He's a world renowned teacher at a play-based preschool in Seattle. He's helped me chill considerably about what I consider dangerous for kids, and he facilitates conflict resolution better than any teacher I've ever seen.)
Once the kids got the hang of basic circuitry, they could get as creative as they wanted with their Play Dough inventions. One five-year-old girl who I'll call Catherine, who regularly displays high emotional intelligence and emotional self regulation, announced that she was going to use her Play Dough to make a kitty with a water bowl. Often demonstrating strong executive functioning skills, she's a "stick to the plan" kind of kid. (Executive functioning includes things like self-control, planning, and the ability to remember instructions. If you're looking for a deeper understanding of executive functioning and self-regulation, this article from Harvard's Center for the Developing Child describes them well.) So, she set to work right away while most of the other kids rolled their materials around haphazardly, deciding what to make.
After about 10 minutes, the girl next to Catherine, another five-year-old I'll call Mia, reached over and demolished Catherine's kitty. I've observed that Mia sometimes lacks the executive function skills to self-regulate. Looking flabbergasted, Catherine called me over to help resolve the conflict, announcing matter-of-factly what Mia had done. It was obvious. Catherine's blue Play Dough that Mia squashed was still in the center of Mia's palm. Mia had been using green.
Before I could say a word, Mia announced loudly, "I didn't do anything wrong!"
I felt tempted to call Mia out on her transgression and show my frustration. My first impulse was to ask her what the heck she was thinking. (I'm still learning and have to catch myself, too.) However, I know an objective tone is more helpful for encouraging honest dialogue. So, I took a breath and stated neutrally to both of them, "It sounds like something happened here." Mia has older siblings at home, and I know she's no stranger to managing conflict situations. I can't say with certainty, however, where she is on developing her executive functioning skills.
Dealing with conflict is a hard life skill to learn, because frankly, negative emotions are hard. I'm an adult and I still don't like conflict. We're not "wired" to like it. However, the ability to recognize someone else's point of view goes a long way toward developing emotional intelligence and self-regulation.
So, I continued.
Me, in a curious and non-accusatory tone: "Mia, I observe blue Play Dough in your hands. I'm feeling curious about that."
Mia: "Well, I did squash her kitty, but she had just started working on it. She didn't care."
Catherine: "I didn't just start working on it. I had been working on it the whole time! It was important to me."
Me: "Hmmm. Catherine, I hear you saying that it was important to you."
Being an active listener, including playing back what you've heard, is a key ingredient in helping kids resolve conflicts. It shows that you're internalizing what they said, and essentially invites them to continue while feeling supported. Accusation is counterproductive; only when kids feel supported can they grow their emotional intelligence effectively.
And as is true with many things, when it comes to engaging in kids' conflicts, less is more. Less adult talking is more beneficial to kids learning to solve problems on their own. When they feel capable of doing that, it reinforces growth in the self-regulation and executive functioning parts of their brains.
Catherine and Mia continued without prompting.
Catherine, addressing me: "I really didn't feel so happy when she did that."
Mia, to Catherine: "No, you were happy."
Catherine: "No, I really didn't feel so happy when you did that."
Mia: "Oh." Mia's eyes went downcast then with apparent remorse, and perhaps with understanding the deeper connection between emotions and behavior.
At that point, they sat together silently, in what seemed to be somewhere between an impasse and emotional connection. I paused for long enough that I was sure each had finished saying her piece. When neither continued, I suggested next steps without solving anything for them, similar to creating a negotiated agreement in a boardroom.
Me: "I'm going to guess that nobody in the room likes getting their Play Dough squashed. I'm wondering if that's true."
Both girls, agreeing: "Yeah. No one should squash Play Dough."
Me: "Okay, then. I think you've solved a problem. Since no one likes getting their stuff squashed, I wonder if we can agree not to squash anyone else's stuff, either." (I essentially played back the solution they'd reached, just broadening it slightly.)
Both girls, nodding vigorously: "Yeah. Let's do that. No squashing people's stuff!" I could almost see the self-regulation synapses connecting in Mia's brain. Moreover, Catherine's emotional intelligence was growing by having expressed her frustration in an appropriate way. She felt "heard" and could move on. Her emotions had no reason to escalate. Executive functioning in action.
All of us: Exhale. Resolution. Consensus.
Both girls seemed resolved in the matter. Their conflict was now water under the bridge. They moved forward happily with their projects.
I fully trust that their self-identified conflict resolution did far more for their executive functioning skills than any punishment or forced apology could have.
And the sooner we let them try, the better. Studies show that practice between the ages of three and five is particularly beneficial. This is also the age that their working memory develops in leaps and bounds, so that they'll have specific experiences upon which to draw as they get older. Areas of the brain that develop during this timeframe are profound and substantially important for future interactions. Some would argue that the ability to self regulate and strong emotional intelligence skills matter far more than IQ alone.
Socially skilled kids can focus attention on managing conflict and growing their relationships with peers. It's possible because they already have the emotional intelligence and self-regulation tools in place to do those things. Conversely, those with executive functioning issues need more practice. The adults in their lives will support them best by resisting the urge to dive in and rescue them when they see any type of conflict; but rather, by letting them attempt their own conflict resolution, even if they get it wrong. Practice makes perfect, right? Our presence is beneficial and sometimes necessary, but our words should be few.
Maybe emotions are tricky for adults to manage because some of us didn't get enough practice when we were kids. I don't know. What I do know anecdotally, however, is that emotionally intelligent kids usually grow up to be emotionally intelligent people (adult-sized, because, of course, kids are people, too). The ability to understand and manage emotions, resolve conflict, and display emotional intelligence is a lifelong gift to ourselves and those around us.
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In the dance class I’ve written about before and that I help teach, the kids sometimes use colorful scarves as props during freestyle dancing. It’s really fun to watch them swirl and twirl, unless you’re watching littlest Julianne*, where you wonder how long it’ll take her to accidentally wrap up her feet and wipe out. The less fun part, however, is handing out the orange, yellow, green, red, blue, and purple scarves before the dancing begins. Almost all the kids are fine with any color, but a few want only purple. There aren’t enough purple scarves to go around, nor can two kids share the same scarf at the same time. When kids want the same thing, dance class quickly morphs into a crash course in economics, whereby some struggle with supply and demand. Scarcity makes the heart grow fonder.
When I hand out the scarves, it works best when I’m playful about it. I reach into the bag as if it were a magic hat full of rabbits. I act shocked and amazed each time a new color comes out, much to the delight of the kids. They get caught up enough in the game that they’re usually unconcerned with what color they get. If someone does get upset, some sincere active listening and empathy usually help them process and move on quickly. “Yes, I see how much you wanted the purple. You feel disappointed.” The child invariably affirms that I’ve understood correctly and then moves on with her dancing. If she’s still upset, although it rarely happens, she can process as long as she needs to.
I just don’t buy it. Maybe it’ll be an issue for some. But most of the time, it’s really not a big deal to them, at least not for age four (or so) and above. Many kids already have the emotional intelligence to delay gratification. They already know from their life experience that they’re likely to get a turn with the purple scarf, or whatever the object of their affection may be, at some point.
And most of them know exactly what to do about it if they want the same thing that another child has. The adults around them model sharing and taking turns every day, and like everything else, kids pick up on what they observe. Learning to share happens naturally in its own time.
Case in point: After I’d handed out the scarves one day, Amelia, who’s one of the youngest in the group of 4-8 year olds, requested for my attention. The music and dancing had already started. At her request, though, I kneeled down so she could whisper in my ear. She inquired politely, “I noticed that Josie has a purple scarf. I’d really like to take a turn with it. May I ask her if she’d trade with me?”
Absolutely, yes.
Josie was just beyond my earshot, but I watched Amelia walk up to her and engage her in a quick and friendly exchange. I watched Josie smile and nod. The girls traded scarves; one smiling because she’d gotten the color she wanted, and the other smiling because she got to help a friend. They worked it out. She shared. Happily. Easily.
I’ve seen this negotiation of “sharing” happen just as often with boys as girls; in dance class and on playgrounds. I could’ve just as easily written this piece about a group of boys working together to build a skeleton from individual x-ray images during science class a few weeks ago. However, it’s less desirable to write about yanking on femurs.
When kids want the same thing at the same time, they can usually work it out. Adults don’t need to interfere. We can trust them to negotiate for themselves, often without any mediation. We don’t need to worry that we’re setting a bad precedent if we give a child something he or she requests.
We don’t need to force so-called sharing or taking turns. Children do it quite naturally most of the time. Policing is far less important than giving them the chance to practice. And when better to practice than in childhood?
* Names changed for privacy.
Trees and lights. Snow and sledding. Family and holidays. For many of us, these are naturally joyful pairs. (Trees and lights are especially exciting if you're a toddler or a cat.)
Of course there's the other side, too. Holiday stress is real for many of us--and it can come crashing down our chimneys with reliable predictability.
Some people hold their breath and just hope for the best, especially if their holiday stress results from spending the holidays with extended family.
According to this Harvard Medical School article, 62% of adults experience "very" or "somewhat" elevated holiday stress levels, partially attributable to family relationships.
After all, family dynamics can be tricky, especially once we have children. Yet, we want our children to experience all the joy that should surround them this time of year, right? Holidays stress doesn't have to be their thing just because it's ours.
Although I won't write about my own holiday stress here because my extended family will read this---I mean, because they're perfect (ahem)---I'll tell you how some people mitigate their anxiety with extended family, especially if All That Togetherness doesn't exactly jingle their bells.
So, what do they do to mitigate the messiness and find joy, instead?
If you're concerned about extended family being a less-than-desirable influence on your kids, find joy and peace in the connection you've created.
If you've parented with the good of the parent-child relationship in mind, then children will naturally gravitate back to the norms of what you've modeled for them.
If you happen to have a child who hangs back at family gatherings, that's perfectly alright. If you're concerned about it, this article about supporting introverted children might help you.
Your kids will join in when they're ready. Let them rest securely in the knowledge that you support their choices and their timing.
For family members who might not understand your child's reluctance to jump right into a big group of people, but who sincerely want to connect with them, you might share ideas like these about how to engage kids without overwhelming them.
Even outgoing kids need support and occasional breaks from the group. Allow them to relax and in your presence, with your full attention. A hug and some verbal support can go a long way.
The more you're there for your kids, the less they'll begin to equate holidays and stress, and will simply find joy in your presence---along with everyone else's.
Many kids love routines and consistency, regardless of age. You can grab your kiddos' usual bedtime story and stick it in your bag if you're visiting relatives out of town.
Odds are good that they'd much rather hear the same story for a few nights in a row than to go without. I call it "Routine in a Box." A few comforts from home will help your child find joy in familiarity, and help you feel merry and bright!
The same goes for touch, even for older kids. If your child normally has a lot of contact with you throughout the day, then he or she will be inclined to crave that and then some (hey, you're their personal lovey!). Stay present. Keep touching.
Obvious, right? Still, somehow, many people go into the holiday stress with extended family as if they were signing up for a hot date in Purgatory. If you find yourself there (with anxiety, I mean, not in Purgatory, because I don't really think that's a thing), give yourself a gold star for each moment you feel peaceful.
Acknowledging and tracking positive feelings among the stressful ones can help you be aware that good things are happening. You can do this, joyfully. Holiday stress and you don't need to share the same strand of lights.
Just like many of us do at home when raising kids, you can take the "pick your battles" mantra on the road, too. It travels beautifully! Things are different now. As the parent of your own children, you get to examine how you were raised.
Engage where you want to. Debate where it's important. This mini-course about what to do when someone you love disagrees with your parenting style can help support you in that.
Ask yourself if you share your extended family's perspectives or have a different take on things. If you observe them, some of your triggers from growing up can offer you insight into your own parenting.
Keeping an open mind can be an incredible gift with psychological benefits, and taking an intellectual approach rather than an emotional one when something bothers you can do wonders for reducing holiday stress. So, you can find joy while you examine your family anew.
More than anything else, be intentional about looking for opportunities to connect and find joy. If Great-Great-Great-Granny's mince pie doesn't do it for you, remember that the cookies are just on the next table over.
Connect with Great-Great-Great Granny over a gingerbread house. Invite her outside to catch snowflakes on your tongues. You might be surprised what she can still do. You, and your kids, will forever cherish the memory.
Holidays and family can, indeed, be a joyful pair, and holiday stress doesn't need to be invited. Our children can see it and be a part of it.
If we've not experienced joy with extended family before, our kids can witness our ability to find it in a whole new way. What a wonderful gift we can give them in allowing them to be part of that.
"Mommy, let's pretend this isn't a train tunnel."
"Okay, what is it?"
"It's a tomb."
Well, hello, conversation stopper. She paused for effect, which is a good thing, because I certainly didn't expect that. After a moment to process and very consciously trust that children's play serves an important purpose for them, I mentally cringed while inquiring, "Is anyone in there?"
"Yep, a dead person."
She smiled lovingly at me, just content to be playing.
I have to admit that this already wasn't my favorite game, and although I didn't know who was inside, I was hoping for some miraculous resurrection of sorts.
"Was it anyone we know?"
"Nope, it's not. It's just some man. He's dead in there."
Well, at least it's no imaginary person we know. Somehow that made it better for me, the adult who should be able to handle a child's imagination.
Still, I waited for the punchline and trusting her play, looking for some clue as to where this was going.
"What happened to him?" I asked tentatively.
"A cow sat on him. And then a car drove on top of the cow."
Well, that would certainly do it. Although she knows bodies stop working when someone dies, we haven't spent much time discussing the specific mechanics of the process.
Then, she added, "Yeah, he was really, really old, like Grandpa Herb."
Click. Now, I see what's happening. Grandpa Herb is actually my grandfather; her great grandfather. As I write this, he's a 95-year-old with a body that's more ready to go than his brain is.
I reminded her that Grandpa Herb is still alive, but she proceeded me to remind me that he's "really, really old and probably won't live much longer."
He might have another decade ahead of him, but he might not. She's bright enough (as kids are) to pick up on pieces of the adult conversations to know that we talk about his life and medical situations differently than we do others'.
Just like we do as adults, kids need to process when change is coming; especially when it's such an abstract concept as this (for all of us). We rarely discuss death with children unless it's necessary, so it's particularly foreign to them when it happens. We can read helpful books like this one and this one (afflinks) to help cover the bases. I can trust that her play is helping her process just as she needs to. And she can ask all the questions she wants to, and I'll do my best to answer them according to our belief system. Of course, I can't tell her what dying is like, though, because it's never happened to me.
So, until then, we find ways to make peace with the unknown. We need to somehow make the intangible, tangible. We need to know that when the time comes, we'll have done something to prepare, because we all want to do something.
Some might call this "game" macabre and make that resurrection manifest somehow, or insist that it's a train tunnel and nothing more. For us, it became a way to process and discuss one of life's Big Topics, using the means my child knows best: learning through play. It's within her power to play; the more she can process it in her own terms without me imposing my agenda on her, the more she can begin to grasp and reconcile the concept. And the more she can be ready for the inevitable, be it for Grandpa Herb or for a goldfish, the less jarring it will be for this child.
Personally, I'm going to beware of sitting cows for awhile. More than that, however, I'll continue to trust that play needs to happen, exactly as it is.
Knowing her grandparents will soon be asking for gift ideas for our daughter, my husband and I decided to take our five year old window shopping today. As usual and as I've written about before, we began with the caveat that although we wouldn't buy anything, we'd take pictures of what she likes so that we're sure to remember. This approach has pretty much been golden for us since she was two, and learning to delay gratification has contributed well to her growth mindset.
Today, however, she was really short on sleep. Even for me, an adult, a lack of sleep thwarts even the very best laid plans. Still, we pursued our endeavor to leave the house.
Upon entering the store, our child uncharacteristically said, "I've decided we're not just going to look at toys. We're going to buy some for me today to take home." I gently and clearly reminded her of our mission. And I hoped for the best.
We made it past the greeting card aisle and into the craft aisle. On display with the crafts, they were selling a sewing machine for kids. She picked it up and announced, "This is what we're buying for me today. Let's go check out now."
I wish I had a dime for every time I'd seen a parent in a similar predicament. I'd be able to buy a thousand sewing machines. Regardless, this was really unlike her.
I acknowledged how much she wanted it and reminded her that we'd put it on her list. I took a picture of it, and for good measure, so did my husband.
She announced that she would carry it through the store with us until it was time to check out, and then we'd buy it. I let her know that she'd be welcome to carry it through the store, but that we'd put it back on the shelf before leaving. Setting expectations upfront usually does wonders for keeping things mutually agreeable. However, the "mutually" wasn't happening here today. So, I presented it as a loving limit and took the time to discuss and validate how she felt.
Sure enough, she chose to carry it through the store, anyway. She had no interest in looking at any other toys. We stopped to look at some decorations and at a few items for my husband, but that was it. She wanted to go no farther, though, so we returned to the craft aisle, the sewing machine still firmly in her grip.
We had nowhere else to be, so we did a bit of emotion coaching to help her. However, it was still a no-go for her. She said she'd wait there "forever" until we bought it. Taking it from her forcefully would do nothing for her emotional intelligence, our connection, or her growth mindset. So we waited, letting her feelings be what they were, and trusting that this was temporary.
After awhile, I asked her to think of a way she'd be willing to leave it at the store. Because she wasn't in an emotional place to think logically right then, I offered her the options of either putting it back right away or walking toward the exit while she held onto it, until we reached the checkout area. At that point, her option would be to hand it to my husband to put back before we reached the door. She chose the latter. And for whatever reason, she quickly put the sewing machine back on the shelf where it belonged. However, she grabbed a unicorn craft that was nearby and held onto it just as steadfastly.
However, near the checkout area, she changed her mind and wouldn't relinquish it. At that point, I shared a story with her about a time when I was little and didn't get a toy I wanted. Her demeanor changed. She softened. For the first time in awhile, she looked me in the eyes and connected. She felt understood.
Shortly thereafter, she offered, "I don't want to put it back on the shelf. I want to put it somewhere...else."
I replied, "It's too hard to take it back to the craft aisle. You want to put it somewhere different."
"Yes. I want to hide it and see if Daddy can find it."
Fortunately, because she's five, her hiding places often include instructions such as, "Please don't look behind the chair."
She looked resolved, proud of having solved the problem herself. All she needed was the time and emotional support to do it. So, off we set on a short mission to find the perfect hiding place for it. After testing a few options, she settled on setting it between the feet of a mannequin. She promptly informed her Daddy not to look there. (Daddy, of course, returned it to its proper place once we were out of sight, and she confirmed later that it was exactly what she'd wanted him to do.)
And off we went to the car; her, sad but accepting, growing in her ability to solve problems. Even among the shiny objects; even when sleep deprived, she found a way to do it that was mutually agreeable. We can both sleep well tonight.
Although I was on the other side of the playground when it started, I suspect the conversation began something like this: "Hey, let's see if you can throw the football so hard that it gets stuck in the tree!" Perhaps having never experienced the frustration of getting a ball stuck up high, this young boy saw an opportunity to try something new.
Most of us have wished for the lost moments of our life back when we were working to retrieve an irretrievable item. As a result, most of us have made an unwritten rule that we should never throw something up there intentionally.
But not this boy.
Fortunately, his muse (who happens to be his teacher) is often game for challenging long-held beliefs--especially the ones that adults have imposed on kids, often without good reason. Rules for rules' sake, you know. "The way we've always done things."
By the time I arrived, they were drawing a crowd. We watched our impromptu quarterback throw the ball upwards toward the high branches. It's amazing how hard it is to get a ball to stick in a tree the one time you want it to stay there!
With some effort, but not too much, he threw the ball high enough. And it stuck, way up there. Right where the boy wanted it. Everyone rejoiced in the victory we all wanted.
We found joy in breaking a rule about how things "should" be. At least I did. It felt wonderful to do something differently than many would, just because we could. On some level, we found freedom in it.
We get to switch things up. We get to examine the rules we consciously hold because they've always been that way. Perhaps our parents raised us perfectly; gently; respectfully. It's good to emulate that in all the ways we can. Or perhaps they didn't, and now, with our own children, we can challenge our long-held beliefs about parenting. We get to break negative cycles. It's important to do that, too.
Sure, some rules make good sense; I'm not suggesting we throw our belongings into trees. Still, along with the rules we know we have, we can catch a glimpse of the ones we didn't even know we were holding. Maybe we reconsider a "truth" we have about discipline, boundaries, or the innate goodness of children.
In examining these things, we regain the same type of freedom that the boy unleashed for us by wanting the ball in the tree. We get to do things our way, even if they're different from what our parents and friends have done with their kids. We get to make our own rules, tossing out our parenting "shoulds" and replacing them with, "Sure, let's try that."
Having this freedom in parenting is not only a gift to our kids, but it's a gift to ourselves, too. Once we know the rules that don't serve our families well, we get to launch them as high and as far as we dare. And they can stick there, never returning.
There's incredible freedom in letting go.