Call Us: 630-832-6155
You Have This Moment

You Have This Moment

What’s in front of you at any given moment is your life, quite literally. Here’s the dictionary definition of life (n.): “the animate, immediate existence of an individual.” Let’s stop here. The picture is too big. The present is sacred and it’s the only time we really have.

Taking things for granted is a common trap. If we fail to take advantage of the present moment, the odds are good we will also fail to do so at some hypothetical moment in the future. Keeping ourselves in a constant mode of preparation for the next thing means we’re always keeping our gaze on something that doesn’t exist.

Stakes are higher when we have rapidly growing kids. Blink, and your baby starts kindergarten. Blink again, and your kindergartener has the car keys. Children don’t wait around for us to start paying attention. Time marches on and takes childhood right along with it.

Stressful, right?

The big problem is that parenting requires tons of planning and a near-constant juggling act. How can we possibly balance everyone’s needs while fully appreciating our kids during the short time we have them around? It’s a puzzle I’ve struggled with personally since the moment my oldest son was born.

I’m sorry to report that I haven’t discovered the universal secret sauce to staying present and keeping all the balls in the air, but I have stumbled upon something that makes it easier. It’s the same thing I teach even my youngest clients when they come to me overwhelmed by life.

Breathe.

It seems foolishly simple, I know. But when we simply attend to our breathing we refocus on what’s real. Not yesterday’s memories. Not tomorrow’s projections. Right now. In doing so, we surrender the stressors that are out of our immediate control – if even for a moment.

Yes, there’s a high-stakes assignment due this weekend. Yes, that bully at school will need to be dealt with on Monday. Right now, you have a moment to breathe and see clearly. Inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.

Preparing for what’s to come is easier when you have presence of mind. By some miracle, staying in the present makes it more possible to manage your future with clarity and grace. Breathing in the moment keeps you grounded and lifts the weight of uncertainty. It narrows your focus while broadening your perspective.

It just feels a whole lot better, too – because deep down, we all understand that each new moment is the only thing we truly possess.

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.

When Struggle is Good News

When Struggle is Good News

When our clinicians participate in an intake discussion with a parent, one of the level-of-care thresholds is whether the struggle is healthy and normal. Every developmental stage includes a variation of struggle by its very nature. New skills only develop when the environmental conditions necessitate them.

In the beginning, the child lacks the coping ability to manage the situation. That mismatch sparks the need for a skill that hasn’t yet formed. Game on.

The most common parenting mistake is to soothe the struggle. Fixing the issue for the child might calm the household, but it short-circuits the kid’s movement toward solving their own problem. The well-intended parent just solved it for them. Unfortunately, the struggle must happen again and, hopefully, the parent will, this time, endure the discomfort long enough to let the emerging bud burst into a flower.

It’s hard to see your child in a state of discomfort. They, in turn, experience their parents’ anxiety and a contagious exchange is then ignited. Instinct clamors for stress reduction. The wise parent embraces the trouble as a growth opportunity.

Here’s the mantra: “I know this is hard and I’m confident in your ability to handle it.” Parents need to communicate this mantra at a time when they AREN’T confident in their child’s ability to manage the situation. This is what enables the struggle to become a coping skill.

Try it. Delay your gratification. Rather than expecting immediate maturation, observe how the struggle unfolds. Savor your kid’s new acquisition. The struggle always precedes the growth.

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.

Nothing New Under The Sun

Nothing New Under The Sun

Let’s challenge the notion that there’s nothing new under the sun. Navigating the journey through childhood and adolescence these days is nothing like the world these kids’ parents and grandparents traversed. To begin with, everything is more intense.

To make matters worse, the window of childhood has shrunken down to about ten years. Puberty and all of the other adult-level stressors launch at about 4th grade. These kids’ parents are barely out of their 30s, about the age when adults start to figure out the parenting puzzle.

Fortunately, the modern parenting landscape isn’t as bleak as it sounds. Humans are the only mammal whose lifespan extends beyond childbearing capacity. Mothers have the opportunity to lean on grandmothers who lean on great-grandmothers. Fathers lean on grandfathers who lean on great-grandfathers.

While the landscape is nothing like the challenges faced by the two previous generations, the example of our elders still offers relevant guideposts. Whether it’s how to or how not to, the history and experience of our predecessors help to shape our current perspective and actions.

A colleague once shared that most of the good parenting decisions she and her husband had made were nothing more than luck plus experimentation based on what they knew didn’t work in their own histories. The kids weren’t born with instruction manuals and neither of them had been raised in families with reliable role modeling.

Eventually, we all figure it out. Learning from others, however, is far more efficient. Whether the guiding precedent comes in the form of a therapist, a parent, or a grandparent, why wait for life to solve its own puzzles?

Asking for help is a strength.

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.

They Are So Cute When They Are Small

They Are So Cute When They Are Small

When children are babies they rely completely on the goodwill of their parents. They communicate a need in an infantile way and the parent satisfies the request. Satisfaction for the child. Gratification for the parent.

Parenting adolescents is different than at any other stage of a family’s development. Suddenly, the fact that the culmination of these years will result in someone leaving the home begins to influence all behaviors and decisions. Kids start to spread their wings and parents react by clipping them back. Children assert their readiness for adulthood and parents point out examples of unpreparedness. Adolescents invite risks and parents struggle to maintain safety. In what seems to be the last opportunity for closeness the only thing that works is distance.

The only way to make it on your own is to experience the danger without rescue. If every fall is cushioned, the child not only fails to learn how to fall but never has the experience of getting back up. If life is free of conflict, coping skills need not develop. Without coping skills, the launch is a bust.

There is nothing in the world that is more difficult than letting your child fall. Even when you know it’s good for them, the choice to watch your child experience pain occurs completely against all instinct. The gut reaction is to help. The smart parent shows restraint.

Therein lies the rub. How does the parent get the gratification that comes from helping and rescuing when the situation calls for distant observation? Doesn’t the child have some degree of responsibility in making the parent feel needed? What kind of thanks is that after all that parents have done for their children over the course of nearly two decades? The least they could do would be to show a little appreciation. Parents have needs too, you know.

It’s a question of survival. Who will survive beyond the separation? Will the child be able to negotiate the nastiness of the world without their parents to protect them? Will the parents be able to find meaning in their lives without the role of caregiver and the responsibilities of nurturance? There is only one way to find out. Are you ready?

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 Case Against Perfection

The Case Against Perfection

We all enter parenthood with the hope that we’ll do it right. As our kids don’t come with instruction manuals, we read blogs, buy books, ask questions, and take notes about others’ successes. We catalog the wins and losses from our own childhoods. With a blend of confidence and trepidation, we imagine cheerful, happy children and a joyful family.

Then life happens.

Our babies grow. They challenge us. We make mistakes. We lose our temper. We yell. We worry, feel frustration, and maybe even rage. We’re embarrassed to imagine what others might think if they knew the truth about what happens behind closed doors. We lay awake feeling guilty and wonder where it all went wrong, and why we’re so bad at this.

And yet… what if the point isn’t blissful perfection?

Compassion and hope live in the mending process that occurs whenever we’ve messed up. With each misstep, we have an opportunity to model for our children that we can grow from the stumble. Kids develop a healthier sense of themselves every time they see us fix our mistakes and give ourselves grace. A connection broken and mended is often stronger than a connection never broken.

Not only is the goal of perfection a setup for failure, but its pursuit prevents growth. Our kids yearn to see how we navigate adversity and solve problems. For them, it’s like watching a compelling sitcom. The plot toggles between conflict and resolution in each episode.

Kids only get to witness this when we give ourselves permission to struggle. They learn as we learn. We become authentically human in their eyes. They discover that not knowing what to do is okay because it leads to exploration. They come to see that mistakes are opportunities.

Parenting is hard. There is not a parent alive who hasn’t been overwhelmed by the process. But in the end, when repair occurs, everyone benefits from the growth and closeness that comes from shared experience and understanding.

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.

Tap the Brakes

Tap the Brakes

The last time I delivered my annual ‘boys talk’ (sex ed) to the 5th graders in a local parochial school, I was surprised by the dichotomy of maturity and immaturity in the room. A kid with a few new facial hairs, a deepening voice, and a knowing look was sitting next to a boy whose face had just grown pale as he absorbed the gravity of anatomy depicted on the PowerPoint projected in graphic detail. The 11-year-old pre-adolescent was hearing the same message as the 11-year-old child – yet through a much different lens.

According to the National Institute of Health, puberty usually begins in girls between 8 and 13 years of age, and in boys between 9 and 14 years of age. That’s about four years younger than it was 100 years ago. The reasons are many. Regardless of why, the result is a shrunken childhood. By 5th grade, our kids are face-to-face with myriad adult issues of serious gravity.

Our clinical team discusses these implications regularly. What is the impact of the adult world on kiddos barely old enough to process complexity beyond Pokémon character strength? Do 11-year-olds have the coping skills to make relationship decisions while their bodies are already releasing egg and sperm cells?

While we acknowledge the reality that enters our offices each day, we share a lack of preparedness for the consequences of shrunken childhood. We are adjusting our clinical methods regularly to accommodate rapid maturation. Importantly, we are also endeavoring not to.

We understand that children need to stay children as long as they possibly can. We value the developmental wisdom of slowing down and savoring the moment. At any given stage, there is a narrative that explains all behavior and a platform for the next stage of growth. The key is to discern the unique moment of each child’s stage of development, why they are there, and how to prepare for what is likely to unfold next.

It doesn’t matter whether your 5th grader has underarm hair yet. What matters is that we – as parents, educators, and caregivers – read the moment. Tap the brakes.

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.