Episodes

  • Under the file marked “My Family’s Quirks” is the knowledge that granddaughter Joslin has a rough time saying goodbye. She loves her family and friends with such fervor that whenever it’s time for her to part from any of them, she struggles with her own bereft sorrow. Knowing this, we plan ahead to be sure we give her time for her farewells, offering up our own with calm reassurance and understanding. Joslin may have come by this trait honestly, because I also have a hard time with goodbyes, although I’ve acquired some self-regulation skills to manage my emotional responses which Joslin will also learn as she grows up. And so it is today that my heart is full as I share this final installment of “Let’s Talk Kids.” My professional life is taking me in some exciting new directions and I’m finding it difficult to meet a weekly deadline for this undertaking. It’s been over 12 years since I began “Let’s Talk Kids,” and in each year I’ve produced 52 segments for a total of around 600. Each

  • The Walters family has two sons, aged four and seven. These sweet boys look so much alike that I do a double take each time I see them. Their mom dresses them in matching outfits for holiday photos, and their parents hear a constant litany of how much they resemble each other. But appearance is where the resemblance ends. Having gotten to know these two children, I can tell you that their personalities are nothing alike. Geoff, the elder, is quiet and studious. He’s a rule follower and a bit of a worrier. While he can laugh at a good joke, his outlook is generally serious and even contemplative. Younger brother Ethan, on the other hand, is all fun, all the time. This free spirit lives for the moment, never worrying about what’s coming next. Less interested in early academics, he shines socially. He keeps his family and friends in stitches with his hilarious antics. These parents scratch their heads at the obvious difference between their two boys, and wonder how two young children

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  • Most expectant parents imagine they will be completely different parents than the ones who raised them. And then somehow, in the months following the births of their babies, words come out of their own mouths that they remember hearing a generation ago. Our past is inescapable, it seems, when it comes to raising our children. This is great news for grandparents who feel somehow affirmed by the perpetuation of their methods and values. But perhaps the most delicious aspect of all is watching our adult children deal with some of the same issues they presented to us as children. A few years back, a story tickled funny bones throughout our family tree. As she was growing up, one of our children felt the need to fill our home with as many animals as she could smuggle in. Despite the fact that we had two dogs, she begged for additional pets—Guinea pigs, rabbits, fish, hermit crabs, even a delicate, hot-house African tree frog. Her hysterical pleading included promises (I’ll clean the tank!),

  • This one is for every adult who’s watched in frustration as a parent or child struggled in some way. Perhaps you’re a caring neighbor who sees the single parent next door work two jobs in order to provide for her kids. Maybe you’re a grandparent who can’t stand to watch a grandchild try again and again to get the right piece in the jigsaw puzzle. Or you might be a friend who sees a parent at his wit’s end figuring out how to support a child’s more peaceful behavior. If you ever find yourself a witness to such struggles, here is an idea for you from Dr. Jeree Pawl, a clinical psychiatrist who specializes in working with young families: Don’t just do something, stand there! When I first heard this idea from Dr. Pawl, she’d already powerfully influenced my own approach. But this jarring notion of hers set me on my heels. What? Just stand there when people struggle? Here’s the thinking behind it: Most of us respond to the distress of others by wanting to fix the problem. We hear an SOS,

  • Every pair of parents has a subtle competition going on most of the time. Even when they’re deeply committed to each other, daily life with a family provides no shortage of space for skirmishes. There’s a natural “gatekeeping” related to parents’ devotion to their child. Each parent believes he or she knows best on some issue of childrearing, which often results in disagreement. Mom thinks sugar should be restricted, and Dad thinks she’s being silly. Dad has no tolerance for sass, and Mom thinks some of it should be overlooked. These differences of opinion are usually of little consequence. Kids adjust well to their parents’ different ways of dealing with them, figuring them out early on. The challenge arises when one parent is sure his or her way is the only “right” way, resulting in the other parent being cut out of the decision-making process. That’s where gatekeeping begins. Another source of gatekeeping occurs when parents compare how much each is contributing to the family. The

  • His face screwed up in remorse, Joe was one miserable five-year old. His buddy Brandon was crying and holding his sore arm where had Joe grabbed him to get the Lego guy they both wanted for playtime. A couple of years earlier, Joe would have been merrily playing with his snatched toy. But now, his joy at winding up with the coveted piece was marred by his sense of guilt at taking it away from Brandon. As I watched, I wanted to congratulate Joe’s parents and teachers for the great job they’ve been doing. Not because Joe manhandled Brandon to get the toy, but because his remorse tells us they’ve been helping him to internalize social rules. Joe’s well on his way to joining our civilization by practicing those social rules we all must abide by. Rules like “Don’t take what’s not yours,” or “Don’t use your hands to hurt someone else,” or “Pick up your own toys.” This capacity of children is nurtured through the early years by adults demonstrating these rules in their own lives, correcting

  • Most parents and grandparents remember with fondness their childhood opportunity to play in the mud. Building, slogging, lifting feet with a sucking sound, making mud pies—these sensual experiences of our youth call up pleasure in their remembering. But lots of kids today are prevented from messing around in mud, and there are several reasons why. Societal preoccupation with cleanliness and lovely landscaping where there are few mud holes in many kids’ yards both present barriers for middle class kids. Low income children may lack a safe outdoor play environment and may also lack laundry facilities to allow for easy cleanup. Whatever the reason, many kids miss out on what was a source of not only joy but also learning for kids of previous generations. Children learn math and science concepts from mud play, as they add water or dirt to change the mud’s consistency and experiment with mass and volume as they pack mud into containers. Physical activity like sliding through mud or mud

  • Standing outside in driving rain at 4 am, I’m reminded of something I already know well: teaching someone to manage his bowel and bladder habits represents a significant investment. Eight-week old puppy Davy came to live at my house recently. While we’re quickly falling in love with this little guy, teaching him to potty outside has been a challenge. The whole experience puts me in solidarity with parents who are working to achieve that same sort of control with their toddlers. Training a puppy or a toddler offers many parallels. First, you look for signs of readiness. In a child, that might be the ability to pull down pants and express needs to others. With Davy, it’s been his determination to keep his crate clean. Next you have to set up the environment. With a toddler, you might buy a small potty chair. With a pup, it’s helpful to have a safe place outdoors. With puppies or children, you have to plan for the time commitment involved, watching for signs of the need to eliminate and

  • A long time ago, most Dads spent their days at work. When they got home to a welcoming home and family where a home-cooked dinner awaited, they may have heard about the day in the past tense: “Tommy cried all morning when you left.” “Dad, I built the tallest tower with blocks today!.” “Daddy, I fell down on the sidewalk and skinned my knee.” Dads were dutiful listeners to the life of the family, but sometimes lacked opportunities to be present in the moment with them. Enter today’s fathers who are figuring out how to be present in new ways. More flexible work schedules allow lots of dads to drop their own children at school and even to volunteer in classrooms. “Flex time” often affords dads the chance to stagger work schedules with moms to be at home with children so that a child may need child care for a shorter day. Dads are often more involved in hands-on activities with their kids than in past generations. They pack the diaper bag, cook kids meals, give baths, and support

  • Recently, I celebrated that universal holiday enjoyed by each of us who sports a belly button, reminiscent of our entry into this world. My birthday was nothing special. After all, each of us experiences that phenomenon on an eerily regular basis as the calendar pages turn ever-so quickly from year to year. But this year, I tried to imagine that first birth-day, the day I was born. I can envision a few characters in the cast who played out my birth story. My mother and father were there, as was our family doctor. I was there, of course, although my mother says I did little to assist in the process. Other than that, I don’t know much about other “supporting actors” in this little scene. I can imagine a few nurses were part of the story. Surely one of them cleaned me up shortly after my birth, wiping my wiggling arms and legs free of the detritus that accompanied me from the womb. She may have been the one to weigh and measure me, and pay close attention to my signs of health. Another

  • Parenting is a task focused on the future. The very nature of raising children is to launch their future lives. Parents want their babies to learn so they can succeed in preschool and get into Harvard so they can live happily ever after. Even in the short term, conscientious parents focus on the future. In the spring, parents plan for their children’s fall school enrollment. In February, they decide about summer plans for their kids—camp, child care, activities, and maybe a family vacation. Before work in the morning, parents throw a load of laundry in the washer, knowing they’ll spend the evening on homework and dinner, and the kids are out of clean underwear. After work, Mom stops at a card shop to pick up birthday party invitations since their son is turning eight in two weeks, and Dad drops by the grocery store for diapers for child care tomorrow. Parents live in forward motion because they love their children and want what’s best for them. They never want to forget a birthday

  • An old friend visited me recently. She’s raising a lovely 18-year-old son who I’ve known since he was an active toddler. During our conversation she shared enthusiastically about her son’s serious commitment which has led to his becoming a violin virtuoso, participating in an outstanding youth symphony with many performance opportunities. He’s currently auditioning for several universities and hopes to attain a scholarship to pursue his musical studies. As I noted the stars in this proud mom’s eyes, I recalled the last time I was with her. At that time, her son was twelve, and counting on a career playing professional soccer. Their days were filled with soccer practices and matches, and Mom was always there cheering him on, even admitting to having become a stereotypical “soccer mom.” I’m also remembering the week of his fifth birthday when he was into dinosaurs. He could name them all and carried an encyclopedic knowledge of their characteristics in that tiny head of his. His mother

  • One morning, four-year-old Devon watches as big brother Andrew prepares to leave for school. Andrew realizes his backpack isn’t where he left it and races around the house frantically, desperate to find the supplies he needs for his school day. The whole family engages in the search, checking anywhere he might have accidentally left it. Watching the clock, Dad announces they simply have to leave or Andrew will be late for school. Frustrated, Andrew wipes his eyes, trudging to Dad’s car without the backpack. After the unhappy departure of Andrew and Dad, Mom notices Devon looks sheepish. She asks if he knows anything about the backpack, which he immediately denies. But Mom takes a stroll to Devon’s room and peeks under his bed. There she finds it: Andrew’s missing backpack. She returns to Devon, evidence in hand, and asks, “Did you take the backpack?” To this question, Devon innocently answers that no, he didn’t take it. At this point, Mom’s concerned her four-year-old’s turning into a

  • He’s in the advertising business and she’s a nurse. But in truth, there is for both of them a different role that is never out of their focus, 24/7. They are parents to three pretty wonderful children, and those kids lie closer to their parents’ life purpose than any job that results in a paycheck. One recent day, they were concerned about their oldest child’s recent sports injury. His knee still wakes him at night. Walking to the bus stop is painful, so they take turns driving him to and from school. They need to have the doctor sign a temporary P.E. waiver, and the insurance company is asking for an injury report before they’ll process payment for medical treatment. That same day, their daughter was afraid to go to school because she’d been targeted by a bully. There were tears the night before, so they strategized with her about how she might respond if the bullying happened again, assuring her they knew she was strong enough to manage it. The little guy was happy as a clam at

  • It was a truly lousy day at the Osman house. Every member of the family was at a different stage of whatever bug had infested itself in their respiratory tracts. After a long day of sniffling and whining, bedtime had finally arrived. Just as Mom and Dad were tucking the little ones into bed, the doorbell rang. Dad ran to answer it but was perplexed to find no one standing there. About to go back inside, he glanced down to find a Get Well Basket left on the porch. Amazed, he carried it back upstairs where the tucking-in was in process. Mom and Dad searched the gift in earnest for a card, but found no clue as to the giver’s identity. The gift was bestowed by some anonymous friend who knew of their difficulty. That gift overhauled the entire day as the family basked in the outrageous kindness of the unknown giver. This benefactor created a whole series of impacts beyond the joy of simply providing some sweet small gifts. He or she gave something bigger than could ever fit in a basket. The

  • While their exhausted parents could fall asleep standing on their heads, frustrated four-year-olds and sobbing seven-year-olds fight bedtime to the death. What is it that kids have against sleeping? Most parents have faced this night-time frustration at least once, and the reasons it happens are as complicated as the children they love. First, young children are determined to establish autonomy and don’t like for adults to make decisions for them about anything. Sometimes, kids are worried about something bad happening in the night, like a break-in or a house fire. Lots of kids worry about having nightmares. And some kids’ natural temperaments are so active that they can’t bear the thought of slowing down to sleep and being confined to bed for a whole night. I’ve been asking the real “experts” about this phenomenon—parents who have lived through it. Here are some ideas that might work if your child is resisting sleep. One parent found that allowing her four-year-old to decide about the

  • Nowadays, we expect everything to be fast. Technology has enable us to expect our every effort to be met with an immediate result. And then we become parents. When we’re raising children, no effort is met with immediate results. Are you working to train your baby to sleep through the night? Several months from now, your efforts will pay off. Have you decided to toilet train your toddler? Hope you’re not planning for dependably dry underwear for a few weeks. Children are complex creatures who—at any given time—are balancing a number of conflicting agendas. Infants are learning to attach to their parents at the same time their parents are trying to teach them to sleep alone. Toddlers are completely invested in autonomy at a time when their parents want to tell them when and where to potty. This phenomenon of conflicting agendas continues as they’re growing up in our homes. Through childhood and adolescence, kids respond to our urging at the same time they seek other priorities. Homework

  • A family I know faces a significant health challenge with their daughter. This typically strong student is underperforming at school on account of her health. Her grades have suffered, adding to the stress for this family in an already tough situation. Recognizing the impact this illness has had on the girl’s school performance, her mother made an appointment to see her daughter’s school counselor and also requested that her teachers attend if possible. When the meeting began, the mother thanked the personnel for their time and interest. She recalled the great things she’s seen them doing with students and acknowledged that this meeting was one more demand on their already-packed day. She then described the health challenge their daughter was facing and asked for their help in figuring out how to support her daughter’s school work during this struggle to regain her health. Much to the mom’s relief, the staff was instantly engaged. They were glad to understand why this student was

  • When we become parents, we bring all the experiences of our prior lives into our work with our children. These stories quietly influence our decisions and patterns of behavior as we raise our kids. Some memories are of joyous occasions, but a few are of times of heartache or disappointment. Dr. Selma Fraiberg, a 20th century psychologist, recognized those painful memories as “Ghosts in the Nursery,” and wrote about their power to negatively impact a parent’s experience of raising children. A man who was abandoned by his mother may be anxious that his wife will leave him with their children. A woman whose brother had cerebral palsy may worry if her baby is a little slow to learn to walk. Dr. Alicia Lieberman more recently observed that there are also “Angels in the Nursery,” citing the beneficial influences which come back to bless us in our parenting roles. If we enjoyed rich relationships with our grandparents, we may work hard to nurture our children’s relationships with our parents.

  • Most parents will tell you that each of their children has a special gift that contributes to the health and wealth of the family. One offspring is the empathic one that senses when another family member is sad. One is the conversationalist who brings lots of questions and reports to the family table. Yet another is the life of the party who entertains the lot, keeping the mood (and noise level) high. I recently had cause to reflect on these individual gifts of the kids I raised who are now adults in whom I can see the fullness of some special attributes. One of these young adults is the person I think of as the Professional Noticer. She’s always watching, and very little slips her notice. Recently, she and I walked with one of her own children on a very windy afternoon. We veiled our faces against the gale, and then suddenly I noticed she had stepped away from us, jogging across the parking lot. When I looked up, I saw a gentleman in a wheelchair 30 yards away struggling to get into