Happy Flying!

tooth fairy
This is the sweetest story of an eight year old with a lost tooth and an obliging tooth fairy, but most of all, it is the story of a principal who understood, and did what he could.

And that, as we know, is a lovely whole lot!

Here is the story from Vancouver:

Principal Writes Letter to Tooth Fairy

A letter from a B.C. principal to the Tooth Fairy on behalf of an eight-year-old girl has gone viral after it was posted on the school’s Facebook page.

Avery Patchett is in Grade 3 at James Hill Elementary School in Langley and last week she lost her third tooth during class. Her teacher gave her a necklace to help her keep the tooth safe, but when she went outside at recess to play she tripped and fell, knocking the tooth into the dirt.

“When I was running up the stairs, maybe my tooth necklace was loose,” said Avery. She was upset that she had lost her tooth as she wanted to give it to the Tooth Fairy that night.

“When I tripped and lost it, I lost it forever,” she said. “I looked a couple of times and I still haven’t found it because the tooth looks like rocks.”

That is when her principal, Chris Wejr, stepped in to help.

Avery came to him crying about what had happened. “She was upset because she had lost her lost tooth and she was worried the Tooth Fairy wasn’t going to come,” said Wejr.

“I said ‘well, I’ve sent a letter to the Tooth Fairy before and it worked’ and I said ‘what do you think about us sitting down and writing up a formal letter with our logo on it and everything and giving that to the tooth fairy?’”

So they wrote a letter together and Avery took it home to give to the Tooth Fairy.

“She gave me five dollars,” she said.

tooth-fairy-letter

Wejr had previously helped a student at his former school through a similar experience and said it is important to help kids in this way and to share these stories. When he posted the letter on the school’s Facebook page, it immediately generated a huge response.

“It shows that people want to hear the positives,” he said. “There’s so many incredible caring moments that happen in schools every day and they don’t get shared, so we try to share the positive moments that happen at school once in a while.”

Avery’s mom Debbie said she did not expect this at all from her child’s principal. “I just thought, ‘wow, it’s a really nice gesture’,” she said.

“He took something really small and made this a memory for her that will last forever, and it is a small gesture, but it means everything,” she added. “We hear so many horrible stories every day, it’s nice to hear this story, this small little story, this little gesture.”

Wejr said the lesson here is that sometimes adults need to stop and make sure they show kids they care and help them in moments of distress.

“Sometimes the small things can really have a large impact if we just take the time,” he said.

© Shaw Media, 2014

 To see a video clip of the story, click here.

Tree Life

 

“Are trees sad when people cut them?” The little boy came out of a week of school focus on earth, nature, resources, deforestation, and endangered animals.

“What do you think?” I returned the question. He has a reason for asking, after all.

“Yeah,” the seven-year-old sobered. “I think trees get sad because then they die and they can’t make leaves and flowers and acorns anymore.”

I nodded, sensing he has not quite finished and wanting to give him time to find the words.

A quiet moment passed, then his right eyebrow shot up the way it does when he gets an idea. Ideas for mischief, yes; but also for an answer that eluded him or a solution he did not see before. He touched the top of the table with his fingertips, and his eyes wandered over the floor, the bookcase, the closet door.

“You think maybe the trees are also not so sad,” he continued, “if people make stuff from them and then they get to be other things?”

“Um…hmm …” I noted in agreement, letting him work this through.

“Like if the tree gets to be a table or a chair or even a book then it is still important, right? But …” his young face wrinkled in too-old-for-his-age consternation, “but … maybe the trees are sad if they get burnt in the fire or something … because then they’re gone and can’t be anything anymore?”

“I see what you mean,” I offered, “but what if burning the wood helps keep people warm in the winter or cook their food?”

He brightened. “Yeah! I think maybe then the trees don’t get so sad … because they kind of make the food … ” His face got transformed once more, this time to seriously didactic, “But … but people still have to be very careful to not cut too many trees, right?”

“Right … ”

“… because the trees want to grow and be happy and also the squirrels and the birds need trees and monkeys and other things. Bugs, even. Some animals live on trees,” he instructed me, “That’s where they build their home. So people have to be careful because it is not fair to break all the animal homes and chop off all the trees to make things …” he paused. “And anyway, you can make tables from other things, too. Like plastic. Or maybe even a rock … I think …”

He quieted for a moment, his eyes wandered again around the room and rested on my bookshelves, on the National Geographic magazines on the side table, and the paper-packed folder with his work peeking out of the backpack on the wooden floor.

“I think trees really don’t mind if they get to be books, though” he added, satisfied. “Because then they can tell stories even if they can’t talk. I love trees and I love books.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

treelife

Find the Unexpected

Today, find something unexpected. Learn a fact you did not know. Claim a new piece of knowledge or practice a new skill. Watch an animal you’ve never seen before. Read a bit of trivia that surprises, gives a chuckle, raises eyebrows, tickles curiosity for more.

Today, practice the experience of wonder.

Today, remember what it was–can be like, often is–to be a child.

Rosy Maple Moth

Rosy Maple Moth

 

Bargibanti Pygmy Seahorse

Bargibanti Pygmy Seahorse

 

T-Rex Trivia

T-Rex Trivia

Hippo Trivia

Hippo Trivia

 

 

 

 

How early? For how long?

book time

I’ve received a query from a parent: “I heard reading to children is good for them. Is it true that it helps language development? How early should I start reading to my baby and how long should I go on reading to her?–Parenting Neophyte…”

It is a good question and one I get often and love getting. It is always worthy of an answer.

Dear Parenting Neophyte,

The facts are clear: Reading to kids is great. Introducing children to books is important for language development, listening skills, later literacy, and general cognitive potential. Stories expand vocabulary, increase imagination, teach social skills, improve narrative. Reading to your children is good parenting and a good investment in their education and future.

As to how early one is supposed to start reading to children and how long one goes on doing that–the simple answer is: “as early as possible and for as long as kids would let you …”

The more detailed reply is that even newborns find interest in clear patterns and drawings, in contrasting colors, in faces (especially in faces), and pictures of familiar objects. They listen. They pay attention. They track. They make connections between sounds and experience. Unfold an accordion book when the baby is playing on the mat. In the stroller. In the playpen. Give them a soft-book to hold in the stroller or to reach for when they loll on the floor during some ‘tummy time’ (check for lead-free paints and non-toxic materials, of course–babies put everything in their mouth!). Certainly introduce picture books as part of every night routine. Talk about the pictures with your infant, point to familiar animals and items. It is not about testing how much they understand or what words they can say or point to. Rather, it is about having reading books become a link in the nightly ritual of cuddling and comfort, connection, familiarity, language, narrative, and stories.

Babies who are read to often gravitate toward books as playing objects, they leaf through, turn pages, pause, look, and ponder, even as they mouth the corners and tear out what they manage to … (all great motor and visual spatial skills, by the way). They also learn to point, to wait, and to associate pictures with words and sounds. They learn to anticipate the next picture, to predict what’s to come. They learn to trust their memory. They rarely tire of adoring the confirmation of seeing the same picture appear as it did the day prior.

For sure, the repetition can be tedious (you’ll know what I mean when your toddler asks for the same book in the two-thousandth time, and wants to read it “again” and “again” and “more time!”), but it is part of children’s normal development during infancy and toddlerhood to like things repeat. So take a deep breath and even as you introduce new books once in a while, and expand the child’s repertoire of stories, do cave in and read “goodnight moon” one more time …

As for the question of “how long to keep reading to children?” The answer truly is to do so for as long as possible. Many professionals recommend reading to children straight through middle school, and certainly throughout the elementary school years.

It tends to surprise parents when I recommend that. Very often they tell me that they’d stopped reading to the child when he or she learned how to read independently–sometimes during the first or second grade. They thought that the move to independent reading marked the end of “needing to be read to” and in fact often had reading time revert into the time of day when the child read to them … It was almost a rite of passage. A mark of moving into the reading world.

Granted, there’s still plenty of bonding potential in cuddling with your child and witnessing their reading progress. It certainly feels good to the parent to measure their child’s progress … and to a child to know their efforts are appreciated. However, being read to is a very different task than reading aloud as decoding practice. The two have very different goals and encompass very different language levels. The books children read are often matched with their decoding ability, rather than their language level. Also, even in later elementary grades, when reading skills allow children to decode most common words, books are chosen with the child’s comprehension level in mind, not necessarily their exposure to higher linguistic material.

Reading TO children is a whole other world of learning opportunity. It is primarily a listening task and allows the child to relax into the story and delve into language while losing oneself in it. Being read to opens space for a child to draw inferences about connections, context clues, idioms, character descriptions, sequence, cause and effect. It is a time for a child to consider possible outcomes, predict to himself what might happen next, check a hypothesis, internalize some of the story characters, discern who they like and who they don’t, who they may want to be, where, how, why. It opens an opportunity for discussion that is very different than the ‘reading comprehension testing’ that happens with school books or those the child reads independently. The books you read to your child become fodder for conversation and self-discovery: what did they like about the book? what did you? why did so and so do this or that? would you so the same? what is your favorite character? which is mine? how come?

Children who are read to through 8th grade, have larger vocabularies than children who are good readers but are not being read to (and we are talking vocabularies that are larger by tens of thousands of words–not just by a small margin!). As a group, they have better listening skills, better auditory processing and auditory memory skills. They have better narrative skills. They use a more varied lexicon in their own writing. They have bigger cache of idioms and expressions that they can infer meaning about. They can converse better and show wider world-knowledge.

Children who are read to tend to enjoy books better than kids who are not read to. They tend to love reading more. They choose a wider variety of books and have a wider foundation in classical literature (read: the books you read to them may not be books they’d otherwise pick up to read themselves … but having listened to them, they may get the ‘book bug’ to look for more classic literature on their own). Want another bonus? Reading to children improves connection with parents and allows children to feel comfortable talking to their parents more, and about more topics (not to mention that stories often bring up issues that they may otherwise not talk about …)

In some families, reading to each other continues as part of family time well into high-school, with teenagers taking turn in reading aloud. Sure, it may seem odd to consider teens today being gung ho about spending an hour “reading boring books aloud” and being commanded to have their thumbs idle (no music, no chat, no texting). However, for families who started early this is often a natural continuation. In families starting a little later (and it is never too late, actually), the benefits are real even if they are grudgingly (or perhaps never verbally) acknowledged. Having your undivided attention is a precious commodity (yes, you have to put down that phone, too …). Knowing you are listening is priceless. It opens yours even as you raise your child to have a more open mind.

Reading to your children builds your relationship with them while also building their relationship with themselves, their inner worlds, the world around them, and their academic and cognitive abilities. It is truly a ‘one size fits all’ intervention. There are no downsides, other than extra cuddle time, honest conversations, and the distinct possibility of difficult questions about life that literature inevitably brings up.

The only warning necessary is … that reading to your child can damage their ignorance …

reading

 

“He suddenly can’t talk!”

It was an urgent message.

“I have a little boy. He just turned three, and he suddenly can’t talk!” The mother’s voice was pressed with worry. She forgot to leave a callback number and the number on my caller ID showed as “Private Number.”

She called again the next day and I happened to pick up. I knew immediately that it was the same person who’d left the message–the urgency in the voice was palpable. She was flustered when she realized she did not leave a phone number–she’d been waiting for me to call back all of the day before, late into the evening. My heart ached for her. It does not take much to worry a parent, and a major change in any child’s behavior is alarming.

“He’s always been a little talker, you see,” she said after I asked her to tell me a bit more about what the problem was. “He started talking really early, actually,” pride filtered into the concern, a hint of smile of remembering. “Said his first words even before he was one, and he was putting sentences together before his second birthday. We used to laugh, my husband and I, about how he never shuts up …” her voice caught. “But now he can barely talk! He tries, but it is like nothing’s coming out!” Her own voice rose in worry.

“Can he sing?” I asked.

“What?” My question surprised her. It was intended to, in some way, though I had other reasons for asking it. I didn’t want to describe the boy’s speech for her, didn’t want to put words in her mouth, but I did want to get some information about possible clinical presentation.

“Can he sing?” I repeated gently.

“Yea … actually …” her voice turned pensive, surprised, a little confused. “He sings really well. He’s not stuck at all when he’s singing! He loves singing … It is when he’s trying to tell me something that he gets stuck. He gets all red in the face from trying and I don’t know what to do to help him. He’s repeating the same sounds ‘mm….mm’ or ‘I I I I’ and can’t get a word out. It takes forever for him to say something.”

We spoke a bit more. Apparently this started the week before, though there were days in the week or two before that when when he would “stop” on a word, or repeat the beginning of a sentence a few times before “diving into it.” This first born little boy had no history of medical issues, there were no major changes in the house or in his life recently, no illness, falls, medications, ear infections. His articulation was stated to be “super clear” and his language was reportedly rich. He could tell stories and speak in sentences and “knew a ton of words.” He was a happy toddler and other than the occasional tantrum had an overall jolly disposition, which this ‘inability to talk’ did not mar. For all his red-faced stress, the mother admitted that she did not think that he was all that bothered by it and “just stood there and stayed stuck…” It was her who was alarmed, and her husband. “My husband has a co-worker who is a stutterer,” she said quietly, as if divulging a shameful secret. She did not need to add what she was fearing, what her husband feared–that their little boy was going to become that co-worker. A Stutterer.

I agreed to see the little guy for an observation and parent consultation, but had no opening till the week following. In the meanwhile I suggested to the mother to just let him be and not draw too much attention to his speech (including refraining from telling him to “start again” or “say it slowly” or “breath deeply”…). I recommended they continue reading to him, regular routines, and listen to him (even if it takes him a long time to get a sentence out) while maintaining interest and without making a big deal out of the dysfluency. I recommended lots of songs and music–for fun, but also because they can give a sense of fluency and reinforce a feeling of success and ease for the boy. We chuckled over how she’d just have to live with listening to the dude’s favorite playlist a few thousand more times…

She called me two days before our scheduled appointment.

“He’s fine!” she called into my machine. “It’s like he never got stuck at all! I don’t know what happened but he just woke up yesterday and he’s not getting stuck! I thought he was doing better but I thought that I was just hoping … but he’s just … talking up a storm! Do we still need to come?”

We decided to defer the consultation, and to have her call me if need be at a later date.  I explained that this might have been an episode of “Developmental Dysfluency” or “Developmental Stuttering” and that these sometimes recur, and if so, she can call me immediately, or watch and see what happens for a week or so before she does that. Whichever she prefers.

Developmental Dysfluency (AKA Developmental Stuttering) affects many children. In fact, 75-90% of children between the ages of 3-5 have times of dysfluency in one form or another and the vast majority of them do not continue to stutter. Sometimes dysfluency happens once. Sometimes it recurs. While dramatic, most times it is nothing to worry about. That said, if it recurs, if it continues for a long time, if the child seems upset by it, avoids speaking, seems embarrassed, etc., if there’s family history of stuttering, and if it causes stress and worry in the family; then an evaluation and follow up by a speech-language-pathologist are very important.

Stuttering can become a life-long issue, and it can impact people’s communication. Early intervention helps and can sometimes prevent stuttering from becoming complicated. It is also important to ensure that the speech issues are not related to problems with motor-planning, retrieval, processing, or other issues that need clinical help.

In this little guy’s case, his dysfluency recurred a few months later, and I got to meet him. His mother also brought a videotape of his interactions at home (including the cutest singing in the tub!) and took him to an ENT and had a hearing test done at my request. The boy’s language indeed was superb, and he showed no issues with motor-planning, social communication, or articulation. There were no issues of concern about his development or abilities. He was not bothered at the least by getting “stuck”, and commented to me, unperturbed, “sometimes my mouth gets a traffic jam.” His mother was not so alarmed this time around. The second dysfluency episode passed a few weeks afterwards, and did not return.

There are some theories about what causes dysfluency/stuttering in toddlers and young children. Many echo this little guy’s theory, and state that it is a ‘traffic jam’ of sort–a temporary mismatch between language skills that are improving and sentences that are getting longer and more complex; and motor skills that are not yet up to the challenge–literally too many instructions coming down the pipe for the coordination the child has at present to execute in timely manner.

Stuttering may have a genetic component, but that does not mean that having someone who stutters in the family dooms children in the family to same. Not everyone who is predisposed to stuttering does stutter, and whether one continues to stutter following dysfluency episodes depends on many factors. These include the child’s personality, and ability to regulate frustration, their other communicative and developmental strengths and weaknesses, their age when the stuttering begins, how easily frustrated they become, their life circumstances (e.g. trauma increases the risk), whether there are other speech and language issues, and the reactions of people around them (e.g. if people get worried, the child may become aware that something is ‘wrong with them’ and feel embarrassed or nervous or worse, ashamed), to name a few. The latter reason, especially, is why it is so important for those around the child to get support about how to react, what to do, and especially what NOT to do or say. It is always better to do what this mom did, and reach out to a professional for a consult, than try to ‘fix this’ on your own.

Treatment for stuttering is available, and can be very successful, especially in children (the more years one stuttered, the harder it can be to treat, though even adults can improve and sometimes overcome stuttering after years of difficulty). There are different approaches and methods to the treatment of stuttering, as well as different possible underlying issues that cause it in the individual person. So one size does not fit all–not one method works for everyone–and it is important to look for a clinician who will assess, consider, and match the treatment that is most appropriate to a particular person and be flexible to adjust it as need be.

I got a call from the little guy’s mom not too long ago. He’s starting Kindergarten and is into drama classes and theater. “He still sings in the bath,” she told me, “and sometimes I think that he does not shut up from the moment his eyes open to when they close at night …”

penguin chick

For more information about stuttering, click here.

She’s really pretty, but …

The pre-teen shows up to session looking distracted.

She is usually beaming and rearing to tell me about small successes and upcoming weekend fun. When I ask her if everything is alright, she just nods absentmindedly (and not too convincingly) and bites her lips in indecision. I give her a moment, busying myself with some papers in her work-file that don’t quite need sorting but keep my gaze elsewhere.

“Can someone be your friend and not your friend at the same time?” she finally asks.

“I guess it depends. Be your friend and not your friend at the same time, how?” I respond, not wanting to assume I understood what she was referring to and preferring to give her the opportunity to explain.

“Hmm …” she nods, pauses. “I mean, like if your friend is, like, sometimes behaving like your best friend and all and you hang out together and all that and sometimes she’s mean or just ignores you or, like, goes with other people, or says things about you that are secret. Stuff like that.” Color rises in her cheeks and her eyes get bright with unshed tears.

“That is a tough one.” I state gently. “I guess I’d try to have a heart-to-heart conversation with that friend, to see what is going on.”

The girl looks startled. “But what if she never wants to be my friend anymore?” she blurts.

“Well …,” I pause, “if it were you, would you want a friend to tell you if she felt that there was something wrong between you two?”

“Yeah, but …” she begins, hesitates, “… she’s not like that.”

“How is she, then?”

“She … she’s real popular …” blush rises higher. “She’s really pretty and smart and everyone wants to be her friend …” she looks down.

Children know that wanting to be liked by popular classmates is not the best friendship seeking reason to admit to adults … However, the reality remains that popularity matters, and that especially at that age the social hierarchy easily translates into all manners of self-acceptability and relative self-worth. Whether one follows the ‘most popular’ crowd or not, it is difficult to not yearn to be among the ‘chosen few’ of the perceived best clique and the popularity it bestows.

I wait.

“… you see, she doesn’t need me to be her friend. I just try to ignore it if she’s mean because if I told her it was not okay or to not share private stuff and such, she’d just like, walk away and not be my friend anymore … and her friends won’t either …”

“I see,” I note. “This does feel like it would be a tough spot. Though it does make me wonder what kind of a friendship it is if someone ignores you if you tell them what you think or feel.”

She nods, picks at a chipped piece of nail-polish on her ring finger. It is dark blue, not the usual pastels that this girl seems to prefer. I have a guess why this color now, but I keep it to myself. I give her another moment. Kids need time to formulate their feelings into thoughts, let alone to get their courage up to share what may bring critic from adults or have them feel vulnerable.

“She likes dark blue, you know,” she adds, quietly picking at the nail-polish. “She said that all her friends like it, too, because it is the coolest …”

“Hmmm… ” I offer, my hunch confirmed.

“I don’t think she’s a very good friend,” the girl whispers, then looks up at me, confused by her own words and their implications. “But … but how can she not be a good friend and be so popular? I mean, everyone wants to be with her and get invited to her sleepovers or stuff so doesn’t this mean she is nice?”

“Good question,” I respond. “There are all kinds of reasons people can be popular and why others want to be close to them: sometimes it really is because they are nice and fun to be with, and other times it may be because they are famous, or rich, or can get them things, or it makes those who are allowed to be with them feel important …”

“She’s the prettiest girl in the whole grade!” she interrupts me, “… she has the coolest clothes and a whole walk-in closet in her own suite at home and they even have a movie room with a popcorn machine in it.” She blushes again. “She’s really pretty,” she adds quietly, “but I don’t think I actually like her … it is just … that it feels nice to be in the popular group and have other girls know you are cool and stuff …”

She looks up at me then, decisive. “Maybe I don’t need to be her friend,” she says. “I mean, I don’t hate her or anything, she’s not like, horrible. She can be nice sometimes … but sometimes she doesn’t care … and she tells secrets like they are jokes and it’s not really funny. I don’t like that. My friend Brianna is different. We always have fun and I can tell her things and she won’t tell on me. I think Brianna is a good friend for real.”

I smile.

She smiles back, then spreads her hands on the table and looks at her dark blue fingernails. “And you know what? I don’t like this stupid dark blue color, either. It is nice on Alison, but my hands like light purple better …”

friendship

 

Encourage!

encourage

How many times have you been tempted to point out what needs fixing? Wanted to highlight what is wrong, what “can use a tune-up”, what one should be doing differently, or more of, or with less drama, or with more oomph, more boldness, better self-image, assertion, courage, ease?

We have all been there, prodding someone along with good intentions (and other times with a bit of righteous indignation of “I told you so” and “no wonder you are as you are, if only …”). We see someone stuck, repeating old mistakes, mired in old pattern and fogged-up insight recognition … and we point it out–not to hurt, oh, no–only as an intended kindness. We hope a kick in the right region will do the trick this time.

We mean well, but we forget the price of shaming. We underestimate or look away from the price of boring holes in someone for the sake of our sense of having done something ‘for them’ (when we did it for our own need maybe just as much if not more). Shame stilts. It burrows. It slips whatever good intentions into the cracks between what already feels broken and has it ooze away into the void. It makes the distance from targets loom larger and comparisons ache harder.

Almost no one gets criticized as much as children do. Children bear the brunt of much correction. Often. And in what should be counter-intuitive, the very kids who struggle most with getting something right, are the ones to get the most critic for once again doing it imperfectly, for again being wrong. For not following the directions. Again. For missing something. For not listening well enough, not trying hard enough, not having the right attitude.

When criticizing them, we certainly do teach the children something: we show them we are focused on their errors, not their strengths; on the target, not the path; on the final product, no matter the effort or progress. Critic chips another bit of self-esteem and makes exuberance too pricey to risk finding. It does not build. It hollows out.

Showing the way works better. Breaking down a task to smaller steps aids faster. Pointing out what worked as a path to follow gets farther. Encouragement helps more.

Encouragement does not equal the blind empty phrasing for a mediocre effort with: “this is a masterpiece and you are always the most amazing child ever born and all you do is perfect”–kids smell the shallowness of that a mile away. Praising indiscriminately is as irrelevant as constant criticism. It is white noise. It does not help the child see where her effort mattered not lets her trust that you see a difference and even care to note the true wheat effort from off-handed chaff.

Encouraging means giving balanced credit for an honest effort. It means a fair praise that matches the magnitude of accomplishment for that child at that moment, while still providing firm support when efforts fail. It means letting the child know that you notice. That you see THEM and not only their ability relative to others, even as you help them find a better way to measure up.

Children meet plenty of critic without what we might think we ‘owe’ them as a way of caregiving. They don’t need more people holding mirrors to their flaws. The world will quite surely provide enough of that. Encourage. I’ve never met a child who cannot use a little more.

Some equate critic with being honest. With “saying like it is” and “facing reality” and “toughening up.” This is not honesty. It is boot-camp. Actual honest critic is only one that comes when the words one says (one’s tone, one’s posture–critic is communicated in much more than words), flow from a well of true encouraging. It is so only if the message is imparted with sensitivity and care that ensures it builds, rather than tears down, puts down, whittles, or compares. Only if on the heels of pointing out a place for improvement, there is the vista of all the effort put forth already, a detailing of the next step–and a helping hand.

A rule of thumb: critics abound out there already. Least of them being the inner critic that you’ll instill within a child with alarming speed. Be an encourager. An honest buddy offering support along the roughest patches and a ‘that-a-girl’ when each are overcome.

Encourage. It is nourishment for growing. It is like water on parched land.

Inside Your Hug

by robert wagt

by robert wagt

She’s a dark-haired gal with doe eyes and willowy body. All arms and legs that find corners and bump into tables and spill things and break stuff and mess up what appear to be the most child-proof settings. She doesn’t want to be clumsy. It is just that her body is full of angles that don’t quite plan their movements and her brain does not quite catch up to what’s happening until it is a moment too late and the damage done.

She wants to be an acrobat or a ballerina. The graceful movement, the delicate balance, the painstaking patience–they are to her the incarnation of what she would want to be and all that she finds terribly difficult. She would do better at hip-hop, her caregiver thought at some point, only to find out that a child who cannot quite catch a ball or toss it without hitting someone or breaking a window, cannot quite coordinate her movements in an elaborately sequenced dance. The teacher all but fired her after one class. Literally too many toes stepped on.

Still, the girl dreams.

She adores delicate, filmy, whispery clothing. Her caregiver thinks it would be more practical to put her in iron-knees pants and canvas but had resigned herself to letting this elephant-in-china-shop gal wear tights and lace-edged shirts. It is an act of faith, as they last about five minutes before they don a massive stain or spring a hole (which, perhaps thankfully, the child rarely seems to notice).

This little girl is a life on steroids. A roller coaster of emotions–she is either elated or devastated, overawed or broken-hearted, eager or despairing. She tries so hard. She keeps failing, falling, disappointing. Adults frown. Teachers scold. Caregivers sigh and try to keep a restraining hand nearby.

It is difficult to make friends, or rather, to keep them. Oh, she’s never mean; in fact, she is quite sensitive at reading others’ emotions and wants to take care of their needs, real or perceived. It is just that she pulls too hard when she holds hands, she pushes when she only wants to touch lightly to call someone’s attention, she messes stuff up and breaks things, she barges into conversations, she speaks too loud.

Her official diagnoses are all kinds. Some of you who recognize the symptoms may have an idea what those could be. Some of you would know why in my work with her, we tackle symbolic language, idioms and stories, auditory memory and following directions. Why we talk about social situations and solutions, practice narrative and inferences, work with predictions, and rephrasing, identifying context clues and finding the main idea in what to her is a soup of details. Why we make charts, write bullets, jot lists, follow steps, check items one by one.

She’s a bundle of everything–stories, anecdotes, questions, observations, feelings spilling over, hands tapping, legs wagging, hair twisting, lip biting, noise making.

I love working with her.

Oh, she’s a handful–in more way than one–but that’s okay. I work with many kids who struggle with managing incoming information, who need help regulating what their body senses and require direction to make sense. Fidgety bodies don’t faze me. Nor do spilled water cups, sticky fingers, rocking on chairs or crumpled papers full of holes from erasing too hard.

What fazes me more is how some of those kids who have an alphabet soup of diagnoses and a history of testing enough to fill a filing cabinet, have internalized that something in them is somehow eternally broken or ill-fitting. How all too often adults around them have come to believe this, too. I absolutely see the places needing tending, but along with the fizzy energy, there is all too often an untapped possibility, just waiting to be helped along through less correction and more connection and an ample dose of calm.

This one? She fiddles with a top while we’re working. When she’s thirsty, I offer her a water bottle (I’m super fast at twisting on a cap …). I corral pencils, crayons, papers, tape, bits of this or that. She hums and makes popping noises while she’s writing–I don’t mind. There is enough control to manage while at school, where it can bother others. With me she can just be and is exactly and perfectly good enough. Indeed she is. She’s working hard. She’s trying even harder. She’s making small but certain steps to a less chaotic path.

And she gives great hugs. They go straight to the heart.

She asks to give one, at the start and end of every session. She wraps her arms around me and leans her head against me as we stand side-by-side. She breathes. Through my hand resting lightly on her shoulder, I can feel her body slow down some.

The other day before she left, arms still around me, she said: “You make my head feel more quiet. You don’t get mad or yell and I can think.” Then she looked up at me sideways, doe eyes filled with wisdom of those whose knowledge is hard-earned and dog-eared with practice. Her arms tightened around my midriff and she sighed: “My quiet place is right here, inside your hug. Sometimes I think about it when other people look at me mad and it helps me not feel I am bad.”

inside hug

Teaching Children Calm

deep breath

“Calm down!” Sounds simple, but for many young children it is a foreign concept unless and until we show them how.  Especially if they had known more overwhelm than calm.

Young children who experience overwhelming events such as neglect, severe stress, abuse, chronic illness, or sudden separation at a young age can be traumatized. The world around them no longer–maybe never–feels safe. They don’t know how to regulate, how to calm themselves, how to manage when they get upset. They act out, they hit, they don’t listen, they ‘misbehave.’ They have a hard time making good decisions, explaining their actions, or utilizing memory. They fall behind at school, socially, in their ability to learn new things, communicate, or play.

Trauma changes the brain and can interfere with development. It also creates a vicious cycle of hyper-vigilance and checking-out that costs children opportunities for learning, interaction, and connection.

Children need adult support to manage traumatic aftermath. They cannot be expected to find the way without help. Many of them may need psychotherapy, but even then they need support in non-therapeutic interactions in the day to day. Support that we can all learn to provide by understanding trauma. By knowing what trauma is and how it works, recognizing what it does, how it affects children, and learning what we can do to help reduce its effects so a child get traction in the now.

In an excellent opinion article in the NYTimes this week: Teaching Children To Calm Themselves, David Bornstein details one such system of support set in place, and how it already works to change the lives of the children as well as of the adults who care for them: teachers, caregivers, siblings, even the school-bus drivers. http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/03/19/first-learn-how-to-calm-down/

Read it. Then share it with anyone who works with children. Or who has one.

Spread the word. Our children are worth it. Open the path to teaching calm.

boy with dog

For more information about the impact of trauma on communication, check The Language of Trauma, and other publications here.

For more information about the Adverse Child Experiences Study, and the cost (literally and figuratively) of trauma throughout the lifespan, check: http://www.cdc.gov/ace/

For more information about how to help traumatized children at home and in the classroom, check the links to the ISSTD’s FAQ pages here.