“Don’t sweat the small stuff” is valuable advice. It’s easy to get worked up over little things when stress is mounting. Not sweating the small stuff requires some kind of reset of perspective. But there are two caveats: timing is everything, and the scale is subjective. You have to realize it’s just not that important in the grand scheme of things to avoid ‘overreacting.’

Overreactions are only overreactions after the recognition that they’re out of proportion. Until that moment, the emotions seem scaled to fit the moment. Telling someone to settle down in the midst of their tantrum is only likely to escalate the tension. Yet, there are precisely four situations when a dramatic emotional response is called for. In order of increasing importance, they are respect, trust, health, and safety.

When any of these four are violated, it’s time to pull the ripcord. The reason is simple. What follows an underreaction to them is harmful. More importantly, they are interdependent. A breach of any of the four affects the others. What’s more, if you allow respect, trust, health, or safety violations to go unchecked, there’s a risk of sanctioning the tolerance. Let’s go through them one by one.

Respect

The way people should treat each other is modeled first in the home. Kids observe their caregivers like squeezed sponges near puddles as they soak in childhood lessons. In the mind of a child, whatever they experience is ‘normal.’ So, if dad treats mom like dirt, that’s the way dads are supposed to treat moms. Families are wise to call some kind of a time-out when anyone says or does anything to anyone that is disrespectful. Once the interaction has been frozen in time, make sure everyone knows what the expectations will be moving forward. Then, make sure to behave consistently with this stance in the exchanges that follow.

Trust

Over time, parents put themselves out of a job by empowering their kids to become independent. Autonomy is a developmental acquisition. Yet, parents hold the reins on the timing and degree of freedom allowed. Freedom must be earned by making responsible choices. The more responsible the child, the longer the leash. Of course, the opposite is true. Short leashes are designed as external controls when internal controls aren’t enough. Whenever you show me that I don’t need to track your accountability, I back off. If your behavior communicates that you can’t be trusted, I have no choice but to exert control.

Health

Wellness is the foundation of effective coping. Nutrition, sleep, hygiene, and exercise create a platform for physical, emotional, and cognitive health. We have more energy, feel more balanced, and make better decisions when this foundation is strong. Slippage, however, is insidious. Neglected wellness is often the consequence of prolonged stress. Unfortunately, neglect gets normalized over time, especially if it is gradual. Like the proverbial plates spinning on sticks, keep an eye on the aspects of wellness that are wobbling and give them a spin before they crash.

Safety

Most parents have an urge to bubble-wrap their kids. There is a delicate balance between exposing them to growth opportunities and protecting them from danger. Every developmental stage increases their capacity to make good judgements while, at the same time, raising the stakes of failure. It’s all about measuring readiness accurately and responding resolutely when your assessment misses. Kids never learn to get up if they’re never allowed to fall. Yet, setting limits when they are tempting danger is a message of love.

Respect, trust, health, and safety. Please sweat the big stuff.

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.

For many families, the end of the school year means the start of trips to amusement and water parks. Unsurprisingly, my personal experience of those outings has steadily shifted as my children have grown from toddlers into teens. The change has been a pleasant one, but maybe not for the reason you’re thinking.

When my kids were small, visits to entertainment parks meant a lot of stress. As someone who’s easily overstimulated anyway, I had to brace myself against overlong days and too much of everything. Too much activity, too much noise, too much interaction. The depletion of my energy would begin just thinking about the variations of ‘too much’ that were about to drain my parental reservoir.

Beyond that, my natural tendency towards hyper-vigilance didn’t help matters. I tried to manage every facet of every moment. One of my kids was always on the verge of getting hurt, so I was always braced in the ready-stance that moms assume to prevent catastrophe. I frequently operated from a flight-or-fight mode, and I desperately tried to stay in control.

Metaphorically, it felt like a constant ride on the Tilt-a-Whirl. My hands stayed gripped tightly around everyone’s wants and needs, and sometimes I had to muscle everything in the opposite direction to prevent my family from spinning out. I didn’t know when I’d be able to stop to catch my breath, and during the brief calm moments, it was all I could do to try not to feel dizzy.

In fact…that’s pretty much how parenting very young kids felt for me in general.

Now that my kids are older, their immediate needs have lessened. They also (usually) do a better job of exercising responsibility, independence, and self-control. You’d think their new autonomy would allow me to loosen the reigns. But here’s the surprise: their blossoming maturity hasn’t reduced the opportunities for parental stress. It has just changed the source of anxiety and, needless to say, the stakes are higher.

At every new age, there are just as many moving parts and endless ways for me to try, and fail, to control the experience. Eventually, I figured out I had a decision to make. Should I continue to wear myself out by tightening my grip and trying to muscle things in the ‘right’ direction (read: ‘my’ direction), or just disembark from the Tilt-a-Whirl?

If you haven’t already guessed, I chose to hop off that ride. The Tilt-a-Whirl was supposed to be fun, but when it came down to it, it was mostly making me feel sick. I do accidentally step back on it sometimes, but I spend the majority of my time on a different attraction these days.

It’s the Lazy River for me now.

I’m liking the Lazy River parenting style much more. I get to relax, go with the flow, and savor the ride. That’s not to say I’m not actively engaged in the chaos of raising kids. I often crash and need to push off again in order to course-correct. I get turned around plenty and sometimes I’m seriously stuck. Even so, I know I’ll get back on track with a little space and some gentle momentum.

On the Lazy River, I’m still guiding the experience. But now I’m slowing down, taking things as they come, and happily soaking it in as I go. Best of all, I’m no longer dizzy.

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.