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Buffering Kids from Adult Business

Buffering Kids from Adult Business

We teach kids coping skills by exposing them to situations that require coping skills. However, care must be taken to remain within the limits of their developmental stage. Until the brain becomes capable of abstract thought, there’s a potential for them to misinterpret information in concrete terms.

A client once shared concern about her son who seemed unable to recover from the grief that set in after his grandmother’s funeral. The parent assumed her child was having difficulty processing the loss. It turned out that he had overheard the selection of a ‘walnut’ casket and had spent weeks wondering how grandma was going to get out of the walnut. Pretty typical mistake for a seven-year-old.

Before we share the gravity of adult business with our kids, it’s wise to get behind their eyes and imagine how they’ll interpret the data. In some situations, you simply edit the language of the information to match their developmental readiness. At other times, it’s better to buffer them completely.

When life appears normal in the day-to-day experience of a child, parents can attend to the complexities of the crisis without creating needless vulnerability in the family system. This results in a stabilization that enables a more measured form of sharing. Once the circumstances have settled, parents can evaluate how much information and in what language best fits each kid.

The goal is the wellness of the family system. Parents are at the nucleus and hold responsibility for filtering environmental stress in the best interests of their children. Sometimes, exposure is the path and the fallout triggers growth. Often, however, a more strategic approach promotes understanding that is aligned with each kid’s readiness.

When the crisis hits, take a moment to assess the wisdom of discussing the upset at the dinner table, or quietly after the kids have gone to bed. Whichever you decide, let the best interests of your children be the guide. A gentle buffer might enable the protection they are not yet able to provide for themselves.

About the Author

Steve Ritter, LCSW is the Founder and Executive Director of Elmhurst Counseling. He has served as a teacher, author, consultant, human resources director, health care administrator, and licensed clinical social worker since 1977. A fellow of the American College of Healthcare Executives, Steve has provided coaching, therapy and team development services to thriving schools, businesses and organizations.

Protecting the Bubble

Protecting the Bubble

Those of us who take care of kids professionally have a unique perspective. We see both the parenting strategies of the caregivers and the consequences on child development. Breaking news: they’re related.

If you parent from a helicopter, it’s not realistic to expect your kids to develop autonomy. They will defer to your judgment, especially when the circumstances involve risk and you make it a habit to swoop in and prevent crisis. Heaven forbid that my kid falls and gets hurt.

If you prefer to fight your kid’s battles on their behalf, don’t expect your child to learn how to stand up for themselves. Instead, they will protest past your patience threshold so you are compelled to solve the problem just to quiet the noise. It’s all about anxiety reduction – yours as much as theirs.

We treat anxiety as though it is poison. Soothe the symptom as soon as possible rather than considering the problem that generates the stress. If our efforts are focused on symptom reduction, the problem is guaranteed to send its roots deeper.

What if parents set the example and looked the discomfort straight in the eye until, despite the discomfort, the reason became clear? Solve THAT problem. Parents learn how to parent, and kids learn how to grow.

As long as our adult decisions are guided by achieving peace and quiet, our children will compel us to make them happy. If making kids happy is the goal, we have to sacrifice the construction of healthy coping skills and resilience.

True happiness doesn’t result from removing conflict from life experience. It comes from the evolving capacity to manage life’s challenges effectively. That ability only unfolds when coping is required.

It rubs against all instinct to let your kid fall. Imagine teaching your child to ride a bike in hopes of seeing them learn how to maintain balance. How long to you hold on to the back of the seat as you run up and down the sidewalk? The ability to balance only emerges at the moment that you let go of the seat.

 

About the Author

Steve Ritter, LCSW is the Founder and Executive Director of Elmhurst Counseling. He has served as a teacher, author, consultant, human resources director, health care administrator, and licensed clinical social worker since 1977. A fellow of the American College of Healthcare Executives, Steve has provided coaching, therapy and team development services to thriving schools, businesses and organizations.

The Kid In The Mirror

The Kid In The Mirror

Whenever we catch our reflection in a mirror, we hope to see good stuff reflected back. If we’re ok with what we find, we might sneak an extra peek. It feels great to experience affirmation about the best of ourselves. It’s not really vanity or narcissism. Just an innocent and normal desire for reassurance.

In fact, that desire goes well beyond physical appearance. We all want to know that our ideas and opinions are valid, so we seek out places they’re reflected back to us positively. Technically, it’s called confirmation bias. When other people feel what we feel and think what we think, we can breathe a sigh of relief. Phew, we got it right!

Whether with politics, ethics, status (money, degrees, job title), or culture (music, art, literature, diet, fashion), we often look around us to find out if we’re on the right track with our decisions. When we’re feeling disordered inside, it’s especially appealing to find reflections of our understanding that can help settle us down.

With kids, however, this process is largely unconscious and nonstop – babies all the way up through teens are in a constant state of refining their core understanding of themselves. It’s like living in a room full of mirrors.

When I was young, the validation I sought out wasn’t always reliable or available, so I found it wherever I could. I had an idea about what relationships should be like, and I attached myself to shows and movies that confirmed my expectations. I was a deep thinker and sensitive kid (in other words, I often felt like a weirdo), so I became drawn to books with characters who fought solitary inner battles and prevailed with quiet cunning and wit.

I crafted my own self-perceptions without an official roadmap and few personal guides. Most of my reflections came from self-selected books and media, which was fairly limited in the 1980s. Today, our kids are drowning in social apps and pop culture influences, whether they ask for them or not. Algorithms lure them down numerous questionable paths that feed them endless material.

While I could curate my own influences and strategically shape my identity through gradual developmental stages, kids these days are at risk for having their sense-of-self engineered at an addictive level. Taking away their screens doesn’t scratch the surface.

It’s normal for parents and educators to want to steer the media narrative, but it’s usually a losing battle. The onslaught is becoming too big and insidious. This is where the mirror concept becomes useful. Because kids typically seek reflections that match what they feel about themselves, caregivers can lay the groundwork early to help them see themselves as responsible, grounded, and thoughtful people. In this way, they’re empowered to act as their own best filter.

Here are some ways to guide them:

  • Name and support their natural strengths – particularly the ones that aren’t always noticed by others.
  • Help them to notice and highlight the natural strengths in everyone else around them.
  • Model optimism and proactive problem-solving, even when the odds are stacked up.
  • Create ways to let them use their unique gifts to make other people’s lives a little bit better.
  • Teach them to think of mistakes as opportunities for learning, rather than a cause for shut-down.
  • Normalize, describe, and let them sit with big feelings – especially the uncomfortable ones.
  • Provide them with chances to apologize, repair, and grow from any damage they may cause.
  • Encourage them to forgive others and seek to understand why other people behave the way they do.

Our kids develop their self-image based upon the reflections that are around them. Luckily, the most powerful ones will always come from the adults in their lives they love and who love them back.

About the Author

Kerry Galarza, MS OTR/L is the Clinical Director and a pediatric occupational therapist at Elmhurst Counseling. She provides specialized assessment and intervention with children of all ages and their families. Kerry engages clients with naturally occurring, meaningful home-based methods to empower autonomy and maximize functioning.

A Day in the Life of a Pediatric Occupational Therapist

A Day in the Life of a Pediatric Occupational Therapist

Think about the minute-by-minute unfolding of a therapy session. The child arrives and anticipates the greeting from their therapist. Countless developments have occurred between visits. The twosome is not just picking up from where they left off, but processing how the learnings of the previous session have played out during the week. So much to discuss. So many new skills to share.

The session begins. A brief exchange of small talk softens the vibe. The therapist has an agenda based on practiced methods and treatment planning. Yet, the conversation explodes without adherence to the agenda. The kid grabs a fidget from the bucket on the shelf. The reading cube beckons to provide pseudo-privacy. The robot they built last week needs reengineering.

Tension rises. The tasks and tools are slightly beyond the capacity of the kiddo. Chaos threatens, except the constancy of the clinical atmosphere contains. The therapist reads the signals and selects an intervention.

Biofeedback. Belly breathing. Smell the flower, blow out the candle. Name the feeling.

Rinse and repeat.

Coping skills are taught and modeled. Situations are anticipated and role-played. Safe space is created for vulnerability. Failure leads to problem-solving. Play morphs into learning. Healthy doses of dancing, singing, joke-telling, silliness, and laughter are sprinkled throughout.

The session ends. Trials are designed and shared with caregivers. Treatment goals are recalibrated and put to the test for the following week. Life inside and outside of the therapy space comes together. Parents, grandparents, teachers, and professionals unite on behalf of the child.

The child who reunites with their adult outside the therapy space is slightly different. Their skills have evolved, ever so incrementally. The goodbye is as valuable as the hello exchanged 60 minutes earlier. What happens in the next 167 hours then shapes the agenda of the next session.

About the Author

Kerry Galarza, MS OTR/L is the Clinical Director and a pediatric occupational therapist at Elmhurst Counseling. She provides specialized assessment and intervention with children of all ages and their families. Kerry engages clients with naturally occurring, meaningful home-based methods to empower autonomy and maximize functioning.

Think Globally Act Locally

Think Globally Act Locally

A trusted friend recently reminded us that sometimes the problem is bigger than the solution. “One finger does not lift 1,000 people,” he said, quoting an adage from his country of origin. There, he shared, the depth of national crisis leaves most leaders at a loss for how to make even a tiny dent. So you lift what one finger is able to lift.

Our country is currently in the throws of a mental health crisis. It has two prongs. First, the acuity level struggle among children and teens is at unprecedented levels. Second, there is a shortage of available resources. A shrinking pool of therapists is either backed up with untenable waiting lists or burned out from the long hours and the clinical intensity of the work. Often, it’s both.

So, what can you do if your kiddos are struggling and you can’t find a local resource? In our practice, we field numerous requests with limited clinician availability. We match client needs with therapist skills to the best of our ability and refer out to trusted colleagues when we are unable to provide the needed service. For most families, unless you are lucky enough to snag one of our limited hours, that doesn’t help much.

While you can’t control the availability of community resources, you can influence the wellness of your home. And although you can’t alter the choices of everyone who impacts your family, you are in charge of your home ecosystem. Start there. Your need for outside resources may be less urgent if you are able to stabilize the rhythm and buttress the structure of the crew that makes up your home.

Often, this is precisely the guidance that paid professionals provide:

  • Ensure that everyone is honoring the basics of respect, trust, health, and safety.
  • Call time-out when a crisis alters the family norm, so there’s time to process the change.
  • Attend to little problems before they have a chance to take root and get big.
  • Allow stress to activate coping skills before solving the challenge prematurely.

If you performed an informal check-up on your family’s well-being, you would probably discover some opportunities to put these in play. Are respect, trust, health, and safety your priorities? Are you slowing down enough to discuss transitions? Are you practicing early detection/early intervention to the best of your ability? Are you allowing adaptability to develop rather than jumping in to solve problems too quickly?

You might not need a therapist. Or maybe a session or two gets things on track. Think globally, act locally.

About the Author

Steve Ritter, LCSW is the Founder and Executive Director of Elmhurst Counseling. He has served as a teacher, author, consultant, human resources director, health care administrator, and licensed clinical social worker since 1977. A fellow of the American College of Healthcare Executives, Steve has provided coaching, therapy and team development services to thriving schools, businesses and organizations.

Squeeze the Sponge

Squeeze the Sponge

Imagine your child as a sponge. Imagine all the things you model as a parent in a puddle. Now squeeze the sponge and place it at the edge of the puddle. Release your grip on the sponge. Let it fill with whatever is in the puddle. The earliest lessons our children learn in life are the result of modeling.  

These lessons are not communicated verbally. They are absorbed in the day-to-day observations our kids inhale around the clock. Their five senses are locked in and depending on their developmental maturity at the moment of the lesson, realities are shaped. The older the kid, the better their ability to discern inconsistency. The younger the kid, the more likely the observation will be infused into their identity unchecked.

It is imperative that parents choose the ingredients of the puddle.

  • Whether you are more attentive to your child or your laptop when they recount their day.
  • The mood that fills the home when you arrive home from a challenging work day.
  • How you manage the stress of balancing domestic responsibilities with your career.
  • The way you respond to an unfair call from a referee when your kid’s goal is disallowed.
  • How you prioritize attendance to school conferences, sporting events, and music performances.
  • The way one parent steps up and covers logistics when the other parent is traveling.

You get it. The ethics we teach are rarely in the lectures we deliver. They are almost always acted out in the way we live. Our kids are watching attentively and are almost certain to carry their learnings into their adult relationships. They’ll either replicate the values they’ve seen practiced by their most important role models, or they’ll pursue the opposite once they discover that words and actions don’t match. 

Try the ‘minivan rule’ (quietly observing the conversations between your kids and their friends on the way home from an event). Your kids will say things reflecting the views and language they’ve witnessed in the home. At first it seems uncanny until you realize you’ve shaped mini-adults in your minivan.

Everything counts. Because we’re human and because raising kids doesn’t come with an instruction manual, you’re allowed to screw up. It’s the most consistent experience that imprints. They are the sponge and you are the puddle.

About the Author

Steve Ritter, LCSW is the Founder and Executive Director of Elmhurst Counseling. He has served as a teacher, author, consultant, human resources director, health care administrator, and licensed clinical social worker since 1977. A fellow of the American College of Healthcare Executives, Steve has provided coaching, therapy and team development services to thriving schools, businesses and organizations.