Why Not "Why"?

When a preschool-age child does something exasperating, it's second nature for the parent to ask why they did it. We naturally wonder why on earth they hit their brother, or stood on a rocking chair to get something on a high shelf, or why they pulled the cat's tail.

Here's the problem with asking why they did it. Little kids are not very self-reflective. But they feel that every question deserves an answer. So they will probably answer with something off-the-cuff and superficial:

        “Because”

        “Because I felt like it”

        “I don't know”

Now you're really mad, right?  You hit your brother and you don't know why? As it turns out, asking “why?” didn't provide you with any useful information and it only dialed up your anger and frustration. This has made a bad situation worse because now you are probably too dysregulated to handle it with any amount of skill or grace.

Instead of asking “why,” try focusing on safety and your family's rules: “I can't let you hit your brother because it isn't safe. We have a family rule that we keep each other safe.” Then gently help your child make amends: Find out what their brother wants (e.g., a tissue, an ice pack.) Or have them put the rocking chair back in place and get the step ladder. Or practice patting the cat with a soft touch. (“Muffy loves it when you scratch behind her ears. Do you hear her purring?”)

“Why?” is a good question later, out of the heat of battle. Later in the day, when things are calm, I might ask, “Today, for no good reason, you hit your brother. I'm wondering why. You don't have to tell me why right now, but I'd like you to think about it.” That might be the end of it, but you have planted a seed of self-reflection. And perhaps it will help your preschooler to access deeply-held feelings that surface as aggression.

Toddler Resisting a Diaper Change

Dear Susie, 

I read your post about Why Toddlers Say “No” All the Time [July 5, 2013] and shared it with my wife.  Very informative and helpful.

Parenthood has been one of the most transformative experiences in our lives.  We are marveling at all the changes that we're experiencing ourselves and the change of perspective as we see the world through our toddler's eyes.  

Adam has recently (a few months now) stopped letting us change him on the changing table.  He doesn't like us to change his clothes and its a struggle every time.  It makes it particularly challenging when he has a full, dirty diaper.  Any suggestions as to what this may be related to and how we can be better parents?

Dear Parent,

Thanks for the kind words. First of all, I love the name Adam!  Second, I love your attitude about parenthood as an adventure and a renewed sense of experiencing the world.  Lovely. 

Third, this is a common toddler behavior.  Toddlers hate being interrupted and "messed" with, even when the result is a clean (and, one would think, more comfortable) diaper.  Being changed is a challenge to their autonomy, and autonomy is the big, prevailing theme of toddlerhood.

One thing that helps with any transition is a five-minute warning:  "Wow, I think that diaper needs to be changed.  We're going to do that in five minutes."  Then follow through.  Of course he doesn't know what five minutes is, but after a while he will get the picture.  It can be four or six minutes...of course.

This may or may not be the key.  If five minutes' verbal warning doesn't do the trick, try adding a bell or alarm.  For example, you could set your phone to ring in five.  Show him that you're doing this.  Ask him to tell you when it rings and (if he's already talking a bit) what you're supposed to do when it does. He will probably enjoy being in charge of telling you when it rings, and that it's time to change the diaper.  This way, it's not you against him (a contest) but him working with the timer (cooperation.) Thank him for reminding you about the diaper change.

You can add a little forecast of something fun after the change:  "After we change your diaper, we're going to have chicken noodle soup for lunch!"  Don't make this a bribe (if you do this, I will do that...) Just tell him what's planned for after, so he has something to look forward to, and to underscore a sense of routine.

If he has a special song he likes, maybe you can make up a silly version of it that includes the steps in diapering.  For example, to the tune of “This is the Way”:

     Now we take your overalls off, overalls off, overalls off,

     Now we take your overalls off, to get Adam clean!

     Now we need to use the wipes, use the wipes, use the wipes

     Now we need to use the wipes, to get Adam clean!

As you can see, this song doesn't have to be Great Art!  Adding few more verses (take off the diaper, put on the diaper, etc.) would see him through the whole process.  I would only sing this song when he's getting changed, to make it special.  Toddlers love rituals almost as much as they love autonomy!

Hope this helps, Susie

"My Dolly Died"

Dear Susie,

Niva, four, told me her baby doll died the other day and I totally blanked and had no idea how to play back or reply so I told her maybe she's just in deep sleep and needs medicine. I knew it was wrong as it was coming out but was caught off guard! Our good friends' dog died about a week ago, and I think this might be related to the loss. 

Dear Parent,

Well, to begin with, Niva is right on target, developmentally.  Fours and fives usually become very interested in death and dying.  Have you noticed how toddlers seem to be so "in the moment?"  They really are!  No past, no future, just right now...how lovely, right? But once kids get to be Niva's age, they start thinking about things like the party last week and when their birthday will come. Time becomes more dimensional.  This naturally leads them to ask immense questions like "where did I come from?" and "where am I going?"

Your email touches on two really great points.  One is how to answer a hard question and the other is how to mend things when you don't like the answer you gave.

For some detailed ideas about talking to children about the death of a pet, please scroll back to my blog posts of February 20 and 28, 2014.

.

The main thing is to let the child lead the conversation and give them small, true answers.  In a way, you and Niva were very lucky – it's so much easier to have this opening conversation when it's about someone else's pet.  That's pretty far removed from your family's life.  Niva will probably be most interested in "the facts of death," and it's much easier for you to share these things when you are not grieving yourself.

Her play with the baby doll is a wonderful example of how kids process things that puzzle or worry them – through play.  And to be honest, I think most parents would have reacted much as you did.  As prepared as we think we are, pronouncements liked hers often stun us and knock us off balance.  Here are some ways one might respond (and remember, I'm not in the trenches, here.  I'm sitting at my desk writing, there is no four-year-old at hand, and I've had time to process your question):

"Oh dear!  What does that mean, your baby died?"  A clarifying question like this buys you a little time to reflect. And her answer might help you understand what she knows and what she doesn't.  Then you can fill in some of the gaps.  Easy does it – small bits!

"I wonder if you're thinking about Tisha's dog.  What happened to him?"  This takes her back to her conversations with Tisha about the dog.  Again, there might be some gaps.

"It's sad when somebody's pet dies.  Would you like to make a picture of Boomer and tell Tisha how sorry we are that he died?"  This might prompt a little empathy for what her friend is going through. And it's a wonderful opportunity to begin teaching Niva how we take care of our friends when they're sad. 

Now let's turn to your worry that you didn't respond as you would have liked.  (By the way, I love what you said about "play back" and "reply."  If only!)  One great thing about our kids is that they live with us and we have nearly constant access to them.  That means we are afforded just about infinite opportunities for a do-over.  A do-over might look like this:

"Y'know, you said something so interesting yesterday and it really got me thinking..."

or

"Niva, you asked me a question yesterday and I was really busy and didn't have time to give you a good answer..."

or

"Sweetie, yesterday you asked me _______________ and I said ______________ and I don't really like that answer.  Would you like to hear a better one?"

See what I mean?  You can return with a more thoughtful, fleshed-out response, as well as perhaps a picture book or two on the subject.  The conversation with your child about death and dying will be a long one that will last years.  Your openness and availability on this (or any) tender topic will keep the door of communication standing ajar.

Hope this helps!  Best, Susie

Ten Good Reasons to Take Your Child to the Library

1) The library is a great place to “shop” for books before you make a permanent investment. Of the five or ten books you take home, you child will have a few favorites. These would be great ones to own! Buy them or put them on your wish list for birthdays and other gifting occasions.

2) Most libraries schedule story times, even for infants and toddlers. These are great opportunities to practice “school skills” like sitting in a circle and sharing an adult (whoever is reading to the kids) with a number of other children.

3) You can often find music experiences at the library, either as part of story time or as a separate offering. Singing music in a group is a unique interactive experience, very different from listening to music on a device. Singing, in addition to being pleasurable for kids, introduces them to rhyme and rhythm, both of which help them learn to read later.

4) You will get to know the children's librarian, who is a great ally. He or she will help you satisfy your child's curiosity while expanding interests.

5) Some libraries have volunteer “grandparents” on hand during scheduled times. This provides cross-generational contact, especially valuable for kids whose own grandparents aren't nearby.

6) The library is a great place to donate books your child has outgrown. Libraries hold book sales where you can get great deals on used books. Proceeds from the sale augment the library's budget for acquiring wonderful new books.

7) Kids meet other kids in their age group at the library.

8) Parents meet other like-minded parents at the library.

9) Library visits often get extended to park visits or a stop for lunch. These impromptu playdates enrich kids' social life and strengthen ties with other families.

10) Libraries are open even when the weather is bad and you can't go to the beach, enjoy the park or take a walk.

My daughter Sarah Walsh, who is a children's librarian, helped me with this list. Thank you Sarah! As a veteran of many storytimes (both as a provider and as the parent of a toddler) she asked me to add one final note: If you are participating in a structured library program with your child, be sure to give the librarian your full attention. Sure, you already know that Max gets back from where the wild things are and ends up in his very own room, but that's not the point. The point is that you model curious, attentive, engaged behavior. Your child's future teachers will thank you!

"Preventing" Tantrums?

At a recent parent-toddler class, we discussed “preventing" tantrums.  This is at once a very good idea and a terrible one. Here's what I mean.

If preventing tantrums means noticing what the conditions looked like before the tantrum and trying to avoid re-creating those conditions, this is a great idea. Perhaps you were trying to finish up a project and delayed feeding your toddler, which took him from “a little hungry” to “extremely hungry and very grouchy.” Or you tried to fit too many errands into an afternoon when his nap had been skimpier than usual. What you've learned is that if your young child is experiencing unmet needs (such as hunger or tiredness) any task or request or transition that would normally go over okay can bring on a tantrum. Duly noted!

However, preventing tantrums can easily turn into tiptoeing around your toddler. Perhaps what triggers a tantrum is a perfectly reasonable request, such as “Let's put these toys in the basket,” or your refusal to cater to food fussiness (“What I made for lunch today is tuna sandwiches – maybe we can have mac and cheese tomorrow.”) You have a choice between two very unpleasant alternatives: endure a few tantrums or give up the expectation that your child will learn to help with cleanup; endure a few tantrums or turn yourself into a short-order cook. My advice is to endure a few tantrums and stay the course. And I say “a few tantrums” because once your child learns that her outbursts will be met with empathy for her distress paired with a steadfast refusal to cater to her whims, the tantrums should diminish. The outbursts were a lot of bother and they didn't accomplish anything! There's no incentive for her to continue repeating the behavior. This is how kids gradually learn to maintain composure in the face of disappointment and frustration.

But it is quite tempting to tiptoe around. In fact, it's such a slippery slope that sometimes we're not even consciously aware that we're going out of our way to placate the child. Or perhaps we've gotten into the habit of backing down when the child doesn't like a position we took – turning our “no” into an “oh, all right, if you insist.” It may be that a child's tantrum is very, very upsetting to you – more than just loud, inconvenient, annoying and occasionally embarrassing. Spend a little time thinking about why this is, perhaps even talking about it with your partner or a trusted friend. You may need to ask yourself. “What's the worst thing that can happen?” You may need to train yourself to calmly observe the stages of a tantrum as you would a force of nature: imagine watching a fire ignite, flare and finally burn itself out. You may need to sit with the discomfort of naming and warmly accepting your child's feelings without taking responsibility for fixing anything. (This, by the way, is the gift of a lifetime. It's your toddler's key to self-awareness and self-regulation. And though it's quite simple, I'm not saying it's easy!)

So of course keep your eye out for conditions that stress your child and which make tantrums likelier. That way you can steer clear of those conditions. But try not to be so tantrum-averse that you find yourself compromising standards and routines that you want to live by.

Choosing a Preschool: Deciding Which One

Last week, I posted about looking at schools.  This week is about choosing.

You may have your heart set on one school, but I hope you've looked at more than one. This is especially true if your heart's desire has a robust wait list. Ideally, you will have some “accepts” from which to choose. Not only is it a logistical nightmare not to get into “the one” but it also leaves you feeling dejected and hopeless. When I was directing preschool, I often heard parents express the idea that our school was “the only one” and they'd be devastated if their child didn't get in. Many times I had no choice but to wait-list them. A month or a year later, we'd have an opening and I would call them back. “Oh, no thanks,” they'd say. “We're so happy at ____________ School.” This happened time and time again. Please believe me that there really is no one perfect place.

Assuming you have a few choices, how familiar are you with the schools in question? Were you offered a chance to visit? How transparent are the schools? It's much easier to talk the talk than to walk the walk. Formal, after-hours presentations are great for getting the big picture, but these gatherings are basically in-person brochures. Visiting the school during hours of operation is really the only way to see how practice follows philosophy. (Note: a school with a long wait list may invite you for a visit only after you have attended an orientation and only once they have a spot to fill.)

Many preschools are connected to a place of worship, or to a private elementary school that promotes a certain philosophy. I would think long and hard before enrolling my child in a school whose basic beliefs and tenets are not my own. A snarky way to pose the question is, “Why would I pay someone to teach my child stuff I don't believe, when plenty of people will do that for free?” The truth is, parents often have to run interference between “the world” and their child. A neighbor or relative says something to your child that goes against your grain. You have to decide how to navigate this:

     stand up to what was said in front of that person and your child

     have a quiet word with that person

     have a quiet word with your child

But do you want to set yourself up to be doing this all the time? And really, how can you quarrel with something that is part of the school's express mission, and which you knew about before enrolling? Besides being exhausting and stressful for you, it's a little unfair to your child – and the school!

What are your priorities? A particular philosophy or practice? A school that's close to home/work? Language immersion? A school big/flexible enough that your twins can each have their own classroom? A co-op? In the words of my kids' wonderful preschool teacher, Mae Varon, “there can only be one number one.” And only you know what your number one is.

About your child's schedule...a lot of parents feel that taking things gradually is best. This isn't always a good idea, for two reasons. Reason one is about how it feels to adjust to school. Let's say you want your child ultimately to attend every morning, but you feel that starting with two mornings would be easier. If only those two mornings were consecutive days – but they almost never are. The problem with Tu-Th schedules, or for that matter M-W-F schedules, is that every day feels like Monday! You know how you are with Mondays – going back to work seems like a disruption of your lovely weekend schedule, so it's hard to gear back up. Kids feel the same way. The second reason to bite the bullet and ask for the schedule you ultimately want is more practical in nature. Let's say you start in September with Tu-Th mornings. Then in January you want to switch to full days. Guess what? All the spaces have been filled.

Finally, trust your gut. Intuition gives us important information. Sometimes a like or a dislike isn't something you can articulate or justify, but it still matters and you should pay attention to it. There is a certain something about every school – call it a vibe, because ambience sounds too restaurant-y – that either speaks to you or doesn't. A school might have everything on your wish list but if it doesn't make you feel welcome or at ease (“Would I enjoy spending the day here?”) keep looking.  Or, a school might be missing some big component that is terribly important to you (say, a rich music program) but it feels so right in every other way. Could you commit to music classes on a weekend morning? Are the musical experiences you provide at home enough for now? The overall feel of a school is more than the sum of its parts, and this matters a great deal. To repeat: trust your gut.

And good luck!

Choosing a Preschool: Having a Look Around

Recently I chuckled over a New Yorker cartoon featuring an urban couple fretting over whether they had chosen the right dog park for their pooch. I get it, parents do agonize over where to send their young children to school, often to the point of overthinking it. But when you're in the middle of the search, it does feel like a fateful decision. And it is – choosing where your small child is going to spend his/her days is a very big deal.

I can't tell you where to send your child but I can provide a few ideas to mull over while you're choosing. This post will focus on what to look for (and ask about) when you're touring. My next post will be about deciding.

First, start early. Parents say, “He's only six months old. How in the world do I know what preschool is best for him?” Exactly. If you apply to a number of them now, by the time he is age-ready you will have a few good choices to consider in light of a much better-developed sense of who your child is. By the way, don't get hung up on terms like “preschool,” “pre-k,” “child care” or “nursery school.” The terms are often used interchangeably. I've seen so-called “schools” that weren't much more than babysitting and I've seen home-based “day cares” that were highly nurturing and educational.

Look for a place that is child-centered. This doesn't mean the kids are running the show. It means that the materials in the environment, the schedule, and the expectations are age-appropriate. Kids should have ample time to be physically active, make choices, develop play ideas, and exercise their natural, abundant creativity. Their art is shown at a child's level, not an adult's. What's displayed on the walls represents the diversity of the kids' interests and abilities. (I cringe when I see 15 identical snowman collages assembled to match the teacher's model. That's not even art!)

Look for kids socializing in informal, loosely supervised ways. If every activity is orchestrated and directed by an adult, and performed en masse by the class, kids don't have time to invent their own ways of playing. Adults working in highly structured programs will tell you that this cuts down on conflict. This may be true, but consider that every conflict is an opportunity for rich and important social learning.

And do watch (or ask) how conflicts are resolved. Do teachers arbitrate (settle things for the children?) This is quick and efficient but it doesn't give the kids tools. And it reinforces the habit of running to the teacher every time there is a dispute. Or do the teachers mediate (sit the kids down, ask good questions, and encourage the disputants themselves to craft a solution?) I don't have to tell you that mediation takes more time and energy, but it produces much better results. And it's only possible when the teacher:child ratio is favorable. You can expect this to be reflected in the price tag!

I like to see a preschool that is very clean, especially in the bathrooms and cooking areas, but not crazy-tidy in the places where children play. A certain “creative mess” is to be expected. Can the children easily access books, toys and art materials? Are they encouraged to put things away and neaten up after themselves? That might not produce a picture-perfect environment but it fosters creativity and self-reliance.

How do teachers talk to the kids? Teachers who affect a fake, sing-songy voice and use a lot of jargon just make me nuts. People should talk to kids like one human being addressing another, in an authentic, respectful tone. Look around at the teachers. Are they a diverse group in terms of background, languages spoken, temperament, age? This last one is important – young teachers bring energy and the latest pedagogy based on recent research. Older teachers bring experience, wisdom, patience and institutional memory. They help tend the school's rudder. Ask about the average number of years' tenure for teachers. If they stay a long time, the school is probably a good workplace and a fair employer. You and your child will be beneficiaries of this stability.

Here's a last thing to think about. Traditionally, preschools had a rule requiring children to be potty-trained at the time of enrollment. This practice is on the wane, and for good reason. You wouldn't require a two-year-old entering school to speak a certain number of words, or be able to ride a trike...why require that they use the toilet? Kids develop cognitively, physically and social-emotionally at their own pace and in their own way. I'm not saying that a school which has this rule is a bad school. I am saying that not having such a rule is a pretty good indicator that the school embraces developmentally appropriate practices.

Happy hunting!

Bang, Bang -- You're Dead!

Dear Susie,

My husband and I are super anti-gun – anti-violence – and with all of the gun related tragedies of late, we are even more sensitive to anything gun related. 

It was pretty easy to keep guns out of Marshall's toddler play   He wasn't interested in guns at all.

Then...enter transitional kindergarten last year!  He met friends who were allowed to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all kinds of stuff that he is not. They started to play fighting games on the playground. The teachers stopped it but Marshall was interested! With Legos (which he LOVES to use for building and to role play with after he builds)...in came many many weapons and guns!! Tiny guns, tiny nunchuks, tiny crossbows...

I think he is wrestling with good versus evil. He NEVER wants to be the bad guy in our role plays with his Lego guys - but he sure wants to shoot missiles at them! He wants to shoot them down!!  His dad always has the bad guys doing things like replacing all the good food in the land with candy so everyone gets cavities and their teeth will fall out, etc. And we try to make the guns water guns or say they shoot sticky jelly that makes the bad guys get stuck.

And he indulges us...but boy, he wants to use those little plastic guns and missiles and shoot those bad guys down. I'll add that there's NO violence or hitting issues with kids ever. It's just in Legos play or role-playing.

Okay, so we just want to make sure we are instilling the right values and steering him in the right direction. We talk about how we don't like guns and how they hurt people in real life. (Keep it pretty simple.) I feel like we need a game plan!

Dear Parent, 

Thanks for a thoughtful letter. A lot of the things you are already doing with Marshall strike me as sound. This topic is a perennial, especially for parents of boys. For some reason, gun play just doesn't resonate with little girls as much.

As I see it, there are two main issues. One is the fascination with guns and violence, which drives peaceable parents nearly to distraction. I think this is just how kids manage natural aggression. The second issue is good versus evil, as you noted. The combination of the two themes is played out every day in sandboxes as well as on the world stage. I don't know of a single culture that believes war is a best option, but most cultures will go to war – and do despicable things to other human beings – if they believe they are “good” and the other is “evil.”

First I'll talk about the obsession with weapons. You raised your baby and toddler with gentle, peaceable toys. Then the world intruded: ideas that are taboo in your home found their way into his play. A lot of parents shrug and say “Oh, heck, he can bite the corner off a graham cracker and make a 'gun.' You can stick two Legos together and make a 'gun.' He can pick up a stick off the ground, point it and say 'bang bang.' Why not just buy the kid a gun?”

My answer to that is that once the graham cracker is eaten, the gun is gone. The Legos can be taken apart and used to make something else – beaten into plowshares, if you will! The stick, tossed back down, gets ground into the earth. A plastic gun sitting in the toy chest is a standing invitation to violent play, and only violent play. Any toy in your home has your tacit endorsement.

Your home is the place where you impart your values. You can say “please don't point that banana at me and say 'bang bang.' I don't like guns, even pretend guns. Guns are for hurting people.” You can suggest, like the proprietor of a western saloon trying to run a peaceful business, that “weapons” (the Lego gun, the half-eaten graham cracker, any weapon created by your enterprising and creative kid) be stopped and stored at the front door. You can't keep the ideas out (that would be mind control – good luck with that!) but you can let your child know in no uncertain terms how you roll.

But fantasy violent play is just that – a place to put aggressive thoughts and feeling. You mentioned that his play never spills over into hurting other kids. It's just pretend and it doesn't lead to mayhem. This means that, with fantasy play as an outlet, he's doing a pretty good job of expressing aggressive impulses while keeping them in check. Sweet! He can also do this by means of drawings and stories that don't hurt anyone in real life.

And yes, the second part of this discussion is the struggle between good and evil, which fours and fives generally obsess over. This goes along with a fascination with power (at a time where children are just beginning to realize how very powerless they really are...interesting, yes?) Very young children, toddlers and preschoolers, hold an absolutist view of everyone in the world as all-good or all-bad. This comes to a crescendo at around kindergarten age, and then subsides. (As a side note, this is about the same time that a child begins to get a solid grip on his self-control so he can do what he is supposed to do instead of what he wishes to do. He has learned to listen to the cartoon angel whispering into one ear instead of the demon hissing into the other!) No wonder kids this age love fairy tales. Everything about good and bad is so clear-cut. There's always a mean perp, a helpless vic, and a hero who knows the difference and has the power to set things right.

Later, at six and seven, kids start to realize there are shades of gray, that real-life heroes like their parents are flawed – that we're all imperfect. This is huge.

With a child of four or five, who hasn't reached that level of nuanced thinking, I'd read him lots of hero/villain stories. I'd ask to hear his stories, and maybe write them down. I'd ask what's good about the hero, what's bad about the villain. Without dismissing his story lines, I might ask if there are alternate ways of fighting evil. What is powerful besides weaponry? The sun, the wind and water are powerful. Love is powerful. Words are powerful. A decision to say yes or no to something is powerful. As a parent you can help your child use that same creativity that made a gun out of a twig to think about the struggle between good and bad and all the ways we can harness power for the better.

For more reading about this issue, have a look at

Who's Calling the Shots?: How to Respond Effectively to Children's Fascination With War Play and War Toys by Nancy Carlsson-Paige and Diane E. Levin

and

Killing Monsters: Why Children NEED Fantasy, Super Heroes, and Make-Believe Violence by Gerard Jones

"I Don't Know"

Starting around age three or 4, kids start asking questions. Lots and lots and lots of questions. So many questions that you think you may go quite mad. So many questions that you may want to shriek “Because!” or “Don't ask me that again!” or even “Go away!”

Maybe the hardest questions are the ones you don't know the answer to. Questions like “Why can't we stay at the park?” or “Where are my shoes?” are annoying, especially after multiple go-rounds, but at least you know the answer! A question like “Why do some of the flowers grow back each year and other ones you have to plant again and again?” would catch me off guard. (For the sake of a fair discussion, I just posed a question I don't know the answer to.) I could show off and say “Because some flowers are perennials and some are annuals,” but I wouldn't really be answering the question. The question is about why there are perennials and annuals, and how they behave differently.

I's perfectly OK to say “I don't know,” with one caveat – that you follow it up with “Let's find out.” Every kid is a fountain of natural curiosity, and you nurture that curiosity not by always providing pat, accurate answers but by demonstrating that his curiosity delights you. You're not the encyclopedia – you're his research partner.

An obvious first step is the internet. But don't let it stop there. Make time for a trip to the library. The children's librarian is your great friend and ally, a valuable member of the research team. He or she will remember that Blair is into butterflies and that Ruthie loves gymnastics. That librarian will not only help you slake their thirst for information about pet topics, but will also tend to the expansion of their interests.

Another wonderful resource is all the people you know – family, friends and neighbors. Maybe when you're on a family walk, you could ask that retired guy down the street who's always puttering in his garden.. Or you and your child could ask Aunt Kate next time you are Skyping with her. Someone you already know might be able to solve the mystery of the perennials and the annuals. In all likelihood, that person will be delighted to help. And your child will see him or her in a new light.

So it's perfectly OK to say I don't know. It shows that you're honest, self-aware and humble. All of this is good modeling. Add to that “Let's find out” and you demonstrate that you are curious, open-minded and resourceful. That's pretty good modeling too!

Swim Lessons - Ugh!

Dear Susie,

Cole is now 3 1/2.  We have long been meaning to sign him up for swimming classes, and finally this weekend went down to the Y and did it.  We then went to the pool with Cole - he saw the pool, saw the kids swimming, and I explained to him what swimming classes are like.  I explained that he has a teacher at school who has helped him learn about the world and now he'll also have a teacher at the pool who will help learn about swimming and being safe in the water.  

The problem?  He is digging in his heels and saying over and over that he doesn't want to take swimming lessons.  This is the way he is about EVERYTHING.  He always says no to whatever activity is happening, and then we go, and he still says no. But usually, usually after a while he warms up to the concept and will partake in whatever is happening - it just takes him a really really long time to get there.  And the whole time he cries and whines and tantrums and is stubborn. Bouncy houses, riding horses, playing in a big gym with his friends, putting his swim suit on for a water day at school, you name it.  I wish he was the kind of kid that was happy and excited about doing new things, but he is pretty much the opposite of that.  We plan to be near water a lot this summer, and he really needs to learn water safety. It's time, and actually overdue.  

My plan is to get him to the pool really early on his lesson day, so he can just watch. And then I'm hoping I can convince him to put on his swim suit and just sit with his feet in the water.  I know it just has to be done slowly.  But I have a feeling he's not even going to want to put on his swim suit, or get in the car to go down to the pool in the first place.  (He's really into being a policeman right now, and so I've even been talking to him about how policemen need to know how to swim)

Do you see my problem?  How do you get a kid like this to do an activity that you know he really needs, and I actually think he'll have fun with once he starts?  Any advice is very welcomed.

Dear Parent,

I do indeed see your problem.  And I appreciate your honest feelings about who he might have been and who he actually is (" I wish he was the kind of kid that was happy and excited about doing new things, but he is pretty much the opposite of that.")   Cole definitely sounds like one of those kids who warms to new experiences slowly and in his own way. The good news is that children who are not diver-inners are often safer in the long run.  (Impulsive kids spend more time in the ER, I promise you!)

In my February 15 blog, I talked a little bit about the research on temperament (though the topic was eating, not swimming) so I'll point you to that without going into a lot of detail here.  Kids (and adults) who are slow to warm to a new experience tend to be this way pretty globally – food, people, activities.  I think the hardest thing is resisting the urge to use logic with them about it ("Remember how worried you were about starting school?  Now you love school and Miss Patty and all the kids!")  There are a couple of reasons I don't advise this kind of "pep-talk."  The first is that it doesn't work.  The second is that it carries a whiff of "I told you so."  It makes the final part of the scenario – the kid adapting to school, or liking the new babysitter after all, or finally eating carrots – into a victory for the parent and a defeat for the child.  Bad framing!!  This leopard is not going to change his spots.  Trying to talk him into not fretting over a new experience would be like trying to get him to swallow his food whole, without chewing.  Fretting is just part of Cole's process!

So, how to respond to the fretting?  Basically, I would try to accept it calmly and not to be annoyed or derailed by it (not easy!)  I might use empathy plus a gentle reframe:  "Sounds like you're worried about whether you're going to enjoy swimming.  I understand.  And I really hope it gets fun for you! Now let's get in the car."  Another validating reframe is "You're learning to try new things.  That can be really hard, I know!" Once he does (we hope!) learn to enjoy swimming, try not to take away any of his glory by saying "See?  I told you it would be fun!"  Just enjoy it with him, as in "Wow, that looks fun!" or "You did it!"

For you, one of the keys is deciding in your own mind which activities are mandatory and which ones aren't. Then you can be pushier about the former and more laissez-faire about the latter. Swimming is mandatory because it's about safety and...well, the meter's running. (You're paying for him to learn a skill.) Non-mandatory would be a trip to the park, say, or a birthday party. He can sit next to you and observe without joining in for a long time (if at all) without being coaxed or prodded and that's perfectly OK.. That should be a relief for both of you.

I think your ideas of pre-viewing the class and going early are brilliant.  He can get a head start on all the warming up he needs.  This is a good strategy for any new situation, like a new school, a play date in an unfamiliar place, or any event where there are going to be a lot of people. I assume you've vetted the teachers at the swim school, and that they are good at working with kids who are feeling balky without pressuring or shaming them, which of course would totally backfire.

As you probably know from previous posts, I'm big on bibliotherapy!  Maybe you can make a "Trying New Things" book with Cole that he can add to, page by page, as he adds new experiences to his repertoire.  He can make a picture and tell you how he felt before, during and after.  This might give him insight about his process as well as reassurance that things usually turn out better than expected – a reassurance that comes from within.

What is Power-Balancing?

Recently, I was giving a talk at a preschool about how parents can mediate sibling disputes. I've written a book on the subject, and I'm currently in the process of getting my book published. One of the themes I touched on during my talk was power-balancing. This is a mainstay of mediation practice, and the parents participating in the talk requested more info about it – hence this post.

A skillful mediator uses power-balancing techniques in order to neutralize obvious differences in rank or power. With natural imbalances suspended in this way, the parties can mediate on a level playing field as the equal human beings that they are. This works well when you are trying to conduct discussions (even heated ones!) among sisters and brothers. There are so many ways in which siblings can be out of balance. These include age, size, strength, maturity level (as distinguished from age), temperament (personality), emotional expressiveness, verbal skill, ability/disability, and self-control.

A first power-balancing step is your decision about who should go first. Getting the chance to speak first can help someone who feels powerless or agitated to get a grip on things. Even how you address the children is important. Be aware of the use of nicknames. When mediating, it won't do to call your older son Arthur and his younger brother Booboo. It's either “Arthur and Bob” or “Artie and Booboo” – no mix and match!

Pay close attention to their body language. This may be your guide in helping kids dial it up or down. Jennifer may have expounded in loud and emphatic terms about a conflict with her younger sister Natalie, and all Natalie can come up with is “I'm mad” – even though it's obvious from her posture and expression that she is seething with rage. You may need to help her with words that match what you sense she is truly feeling: “It looks like this has made you absolutely furious.” Then re-state what Jennifer has said in brief, slightly less dramatic terms. By re-writing their statements in the same font, so to speak, you help them feel equally valued and heard.

You may have to “translate.” The more mature or verbal child can overwhelm a sibling with words. Being clever with language gives him a lot of power; the less articulate sibling may feel like his brother is armed with a cannon whereas all he has is a slingshot. By simplifying what the highly verbal child says, and upgrading the terms of the less verbal one, you accomplish two things. First, you validate their feelings and opinions as having equal weight. Second, you enable the children to better hear and understand each other. Communication is maximized when differences in sophistication are minimized.

Typically, a mediator demonstrates neutrality through body language and other behavior – by spending equal amounts of time listening to each party, making eye contact with each, and warmly validating what both of them say. However, with kids, sometimes it's necessary to sit closer to one, perhaps even taking a toddler in your lap, in order to keep things focused and non-physical. I would say something like “I'm going to hold you to keep everybody safe.” That way, both kids will understand that you're not cuddling with the more wiggly child, just protecting the process.

An older (or shrewder, or smoother-talking) child may be able to sell her sibling on a plan that is not in that sibling's best interest. If you catch the scent of unfairness in the air, first check to make sure you're not just reacting to “kid justice,” which can sound very different from the “even-Steven” approach we adults usually take. If you're quite certain that one of them is being snowed, try asking what-if questions in order to gently unveil the unfairness. You may want to build a re-check into the kids' agreement, such as meeting in a week to see how things are going, and to re-open negotiations if necessary. “Live and learn” is a great teacher! Just remember that the balance between your personal sense of fairness and the need to remain neutral can be a delicate one. You can't really mediate if you are over-protecting one of the parties.

A last thing to keep in mind is that the adoration a younger sibling may feel for the older brother or sister is usually not reciprocated. Little kids usually look up to older kids. From the older child's perspective, it may appear something like this:

      I feel pestered by him (I experience his attentions, questions and requests as annoying)

      He must enjoy pestering me

      Therefore he’s a pest

The symmetry is just not there. It's hard for an older child to imagine what a thrill it is for the younger sibling to be included, heard and respected by him. This is not an easy playing field for a parent to level, but anything you can do to to develop this insight (without guilt or pressure, which usually backfire) can be very helpful.

Scary Dreams

By the end of the second year, a lot of kids have had scary dreams. A nightmare might be just an image, or perhaps it's a more developed scenario.  Usually it's hard for toddlers to find a way to talk specifically about scary dreams.

What they need is a little bit of information and a lot of understanding.  I think sometimes parents get hung up on the first part and shortchange kids on the second.  Saying flatly "it isn't real" can lead to an argument about whether it's real or not, which just adds another layer of feeling bad.  After all, the dream sure felt "real" to your child!  And the terror she's experiencing in the wake of the nightmare is real as can be.  I might say something like "When you're sleeping, your imagination makes up stories and sometimes they're scary.  Do you want to talk about your dream?"  You've planted a tiny seed about the un-realness of the dream, but without insisting.  Try not to press your child to talk about it.  We can be so curious about the content of the dream that we end up grilling her for information she's not really capable of putting into words.

The big part of the story is empathy.  Holding our child close and acknowledging the fear is the best medicine.  "You sure had a scary dream.  I can see that you're shaking and crying.  Let's cuddle for a while until you feel better.  When you are calmer, we can all go back to sleep."

By age three or four, kids are usually more able to talk about their dreams. Just listen and reflect, using their words whenever possible:  "Wow, a 'big witch as tall as a tree.'  That must have been really scary for you!"  As anyone who's tried to get info out of a preschooler knows, "open" questions (who, what, where, why, when) yield richer results than multiple-choice questions or questions with a yes/no answer.  A day or two after a bad dream, if it seems appropriate, you can make a little book with your child.  Starting with either the words he tells you or the pictures he makes about the dream, you can fuse his words and pictures into a narrative.  (The drawings don't have to be representational to have meaning for the child.  They may look like scribbles to you.)   Making a book can be especially helpful if he is having a recurring nightmare or a series of bad dreams on a single theme.

Fours and fives can play around with different endings.  Questions like "what did you want the witch to do?" help a child construct a different ending in which they feel more powerful and in-charge. Wouldn't that make a consoling and satisfying book!  Some people can even be coached to wake themselves up if a dream gets too scary, or to alter the ending of a recurring nightmare:  "What would you like to say to the bear to make him stop chasing you?"  (Not everyone can learn to do these things; they're just suggestions to put out there.)

Talking about our dreams helps us to be self-reflective.  Talk about the good ones and the bad ones.  Share your own dreams – just the fanciful, pleasant ones, of course.  In the words of Laura Davis and Janis Keyser (Becoming the Parent You Want to Be) "If we think about dreams as our mind's way of processing things that happened when we were awake, we can look at nightmares as tools for the exploration and expression of fears.  If your child is having nightmares, it can be useful to think about what he is grappling with.  If you can figure out what is scaring him, you might be able to help him work on it during the day."

Raising a Fussbudget?

“Oh, Susie, don't be such a fussbudget!” I can still hear my mother saying that. She had probably heard it a lot from her mother. The youngest of six kids, my mom grew up without being catered to. She knew she was loved, but she learned to make do. This was probably a good thing, because it prepared her to handle a lot of crises and challenges – being orphaned at twelve, enduring the depression, and weathering WWII...as a Spar in the Coast Guard!

In her postwar role as mother, she countered my fussbudgeting with exasperated dismissal. I would fret if the little, discrete piles of food on my plate touched each other. Her response? “Imagine how they look all mixed up in your stomach!” (Eew.) A lot of kid-fussing centers around food. But really, what was the worst thing that could happen if I only picked at my dinner? Mom knew the answer to that was “not much.” (For more about picky eaters, scroll down to my blog of 2/15/14.)

When your child fusses about things, it's sometimes a tough call how much to get involved. It can take you down a rabbit hole of endless repetition. The French braids don't feel quite right, or the part isn't straight, so you braid her hair again – and then again, and again. The socks feel “weird” inside his shoes, so off go the shoes, the socks get readjusted, back on with the shoes and – whoops, that's not quite right either. Rinse, repeat. Doing something over and over starts to feel ridiculous and futile – probably because it is ridiculous and futile. (For more on reasonableness, scroll down to my blog of 1/9/14.)

If you've already spent some time down that rabbit hole, both you and your child know it. So be clear and honest. “Y'know, sometimes when I do it a second time, you don't like it any more than you did the first time. So doing it a second time is kind of taking a chance, isn't it? Do you want to take the chance? Because I'm not going to do it a third time.” Then keep your word, even if this produces further fussing. You're no longer reinforcing an unreasonable demand by making believe it's reasonable. And somehow, your child will learn to make do.

In short, when you get sucked into a pattern (like these endless attempts to correct an irritant) you are reinforcing the fussing. When instead you adopt a blasé, take-it-or-leave-it attitude, it sets the expectation that your child's tolerance and flexibility will broaden. That expectation itself is contagious. And while you probably can't turn a fussbudget into a relaxed, “whatever” sort of person, you can at least set limits about how engaged you want to be in the fussing.

Finally, take a look at the bright side: perfectionistic, detail-oriented people are extremely well-suited to a lot of professions. Many of them grow up to be lawyers, party planners, office managers, doctors, script supervisors, organizers, accountants and travel agents. They tend to be hard on themselves, but this helps them succeed!

"Back to Normal" by Enrico Gnaulati, PHD

It's always a pleasure to be able to recommend parenting books that are helpful and encouraging. I just finished reading Back to Normal by Enrico Gnaulati, PHD. This is a great book for any parent who is concerned that his or her child may have a learning disability or emotional disorder, or who has been approached by the child's teacher with a concern. (Disclaimer: the author is a friend and colleague – but this is truly a book worth your time!)

Dr. Gnaulati addresses multiple themes in his book. The first is that we are a diagnosis-happy, medication-happy culture. He is so right. And while there is nothing wrong with labeling certain disorders – for one thing, that's how kids with legitimate challenges get the interventions they need – we tend to overuse any new label until it just becomes a “miscellany section” for kids we don't understand. This what happened to terms like “hyperactive”/ADD/ADHD in the late twentieth century, and now it's happening with autistic/Asperger's/autism spectrum disorder and “bipolar disorder.” Gnaulati's point is that we have to really look and learn in order to understand each individual child. Sometimes that wiggly preschooler actually needs a new and better preschool (more about that later.) And sometimes that angry teenager needs family therapy, not just a pill to mute his feelings and make him more convenient to live with. In our impatience for a quick fix, we are rushing to diagnose and trying to solve problems with microwave solutions. Sometimes a long, slow bake in the oven is what's called for.

A second theme developed in this book is the insidious way that our reporting/evaluating/diagnosing community has come, over time, to skew female. Preschool and elementary school teachers, pediatricians and child psychologists are now predominantly women, in most cases by quite a majority. This means that children are actually being examined through a female lens. Should we be surprised that boys come up short under that lens? In a chapter titled “Abnormalizing Boys,” Gnaulati shows how this plays out. Girls, it turns out, are better at what he calls “doing school.”

A third theme is that parenting has really, really changed. Because of demanding work schedules, available time to parent has radically shrunken. Academic pressure is higher than ever before. And technology makes keeping tabs on one's child a daunting challenge. Gnaulati offers advice in his last chapter, “Parenting with Authority,” that is realistic, sound, and up-to-the-minute.

Often citing compelling statistics, he advances his thesis with thoroughgoing care. (Did you know that “over 30 percent of children diagnosed as autistic at age two no longer fit the diagnosis at age four”? I didn't!) I hope lots of parents will read this book. And I really hope teachers and administrators will read it too. A preschool that finds itself referring lots of kids (usually boys, hmmmm...) for evaluation might want to take a long, hard look at its curriculum. Do kids have plenty of time to run and climb and move about? Are there choices of activities, and are kids' play preferences respected? Teachers will find that kids who get to blow off steam before and after the quiet, structured times in the day will get more out of the “downtime” activities because they will be calmer and better-focused. And those same kids will present less of a behavior-management problem overall.

Gnaulati doesn't confine his critique of schools to the early years. He has a lot to say about how high schools fail to meet kids' needs. One big idea is that the 7 AM-to-3 PM schedule followed by most upper schools is completely out of sync with a teenager's natural circadian rhythm. And yet we know that teenagers get so much less sleep than they require! The kids are held hostage to bus schedules and other bureaucratic concerns. How much teen angst is due to the simple fact that these kids are horribly, desperately sleep deprived? The irony is that if we made the schools more age-appropriate and kid-friendly, we would be making our jobs as parents, teachers and administrators easier too.

Dr. Gnaulati has given us a wonderful resource. Please have a look at it, and share it with friends and family. I highly recommend this groundbreaking book to any parent you know who is worried about his child's demeanor or behavior.

The Death of a Pet - Further Thoughts and Book Ideas

In my last post, I talked about the death of a pet. These are some follow-up points you might find worth thinking about. Also included are books on this topic that I think are useful and comforting.

• Be sure that you share the sad news with all the important people in your child's life – teachers, babysitters, grandparents. You can tell them what your conversations have covered so far. Constructing an understanding of death is the work of a lifetime, and you have laid a few foundational bricks. Those close to your family may, if invited by your child, lay a few more. At the very least, they will want to commiserate.
• Avoid euphemisms. People use the phrase “passed away” a lot these days, but it has no meaning to a child. Not only is it unclear, but it delivers a vague hope of return. Get comfortable with words like death, dead, died, dying. They won't bite! And definitely avoid using “sleep” as a metaphor for death. This can be scary.
• If the pet who died was young, you won't be able to use the “old age” scenario described in my previous blog. Explain that it's very unusual for young animals to get this sick, and that the illness was quite serious – not at at all like a cold or tummy virus. Tell your child that the doctors tried really hard to make Muffy well again, but she was just too sick. 
• A word about euthanasia: it's really hard for young kids to understand the need to “put down” an old or suffering pet. Naturally optimistic, they see this as giving up. It's nearly impossible for them to understand it as an act of compassion. In this case, I'd just say the doctors tried everything but couldn't keep the pet alive. (This is not untrue. The veterinarian could not, in good conscience, keep Muffy alive.) By the time kids enter adolescence, they might have the maturity to accompany you when Muffy is euthanized. For the older child (I'd say a very mature ten-year-old, at the youngest) I'd check with the vet and give my child a choice about participating. Saying goodbye and seeing the animal die peacefully might be really consoling.
• Unfortunately, a lot of modern, urban kids only experience the sad part of the life cycle. So many of our pets are “fixed” (and IMHO, that's a good thing) that most kids don't get to see animals being born. Look for ways to expose them to this joyous and awe-inspiring part of the life cycle through media, or a visit to a farm, zoo or county fair.
• Kids can be immensely curious about what happens after death. If you are asked, I think it's best to tell your child what you believe. If you have faith in an afterlife, and you hope to be reunited with your pet, say so. If you're a nonbeliever, it may be tempting to paint a picture you yourself don't actually buy. That just kicks the discussion down the road. Also, it erodes trust.  You can say that the pet will be forever in our hearts and minds.  But what if each parent has a different idea of what happens after death? Why not? Each parent can say what (s)he believes while respectfully honoring the other parent's view. In the end, we all choose what and how we believe. Our kids will too.

Here are some really wonderful books about the death of an animal:

Brown, Margaret Wise, The Dead Bird is a classic that simply and eloquently depicts a group of children who bury a dead bird they have found.

Kantrowitz, Mildred, When Violet Died depicts the “appropriate fun, yet honorable funeral for a pet bird [and] uses the cycle of life and the bright future of a pregnant cat.” (Parent review on Amazon)

Viorst, Judith, The Tenth Good Thing About Barney is a realistic, tender tale about a pet cat’s funeral. The neighbor kids in this book disagree about whether Barney is in heaven.

When your child starts asking questions about people dying, or death in general, have a look at:

Grollman, Earl A., Talking About Death, A Dialogue Between Parent and Child is something of a “bible” on this topic. It is really two books in one, a text for children and a companion book for the parent which includes resources, an extensive bibliography and more.

Mellonie, Bryan and Ingpen, Robert, Lifetimes, The Beautiful Way to Explain Death to Children provides a poetic yet straightforward explanation of the life cycle.

The Death of a Pet

Dear Susie,

Our dog died last night. My sons are just five and 2 ½. This is going to be such a hard conversation! I'd appreciate any thoughts you can share.

Dear Parent,

I'm so sorry! We always had a houseful of pets and I loved each and every one of them. This never gets easier, does it?

As with any  "tender topic," I think the best rule of thumb is to say the smallest true thing you can.  Your child's questions will lead the rest of the way.  You can start with, "Something very sad has happened in our family.  You know that Muffy lived a long, long time. [I sure hope this is the case.  If not, modify. I'll talk more about this in my next post.] She had a wonderful, happy, doggy life. She got very old and finally her body stopped working and she died.  I'm going to miss her so much."

Then let the questions come.  Try to answer them simply and honestly.  Please try not to worry that you may cry during this talk. The topic is sad – and your sadness, though a little upsetting, will make sense to your kids. Crying gives them permission to grieve too. Faking a stoic attitude would create a mismatch between your words and your demeanor.  This would be awkward for both you and your kids. To a certain extent, you will all be comforting one another, which is part of family life and family love. Your child's mirror neurons (related to empathy) will be firing like crazy. That's how we learn to care about, and care for, each other.

Your younger child may be a little baffled by everything about this conversation. For him, the biggest challenge will probably be to grasp the permanence of death. He may ask for Muffy a lot in the coming days. It could take weeks for him to understand that Muffy's not coming back. Your five-year-old may already have an understanding of death as permanent. He could be comforted by starting a little “memory book” of pictures and recollections that you can all contribute to, over time.

I'm a big believer in pet funerals. Doing something simple but ceremonial at home honors life and seals a memory. Let the kids help plan and carry out the funeral or memorial. When I was a little girl, we buried them under my favorite tree, right near my swing. I followed suit with my own kids. (Please don't flush Swimmy down the toilet! It's a clean and practical thing to do, but think of the message it sends.)

Questions may come fast and furious, or very gradually. What kinds of questions might your older one ask? We as adults tend to get past the nuts and bolts of burying or cremating a pet and focus on how sad we are. But for a four- or five-year-old, often the emphasis is on “the science of death.” Is Muffy asleep? Can she feel her body? Is she thinking? I would never liken death to sleep (this can be scary) but sometimes kids who see a dead animal wonder if it's sleeping. If, and only if, your child expresses curiosity about this, point out that death is not at all like sleep. When Muffy was alive, she was doing a lot of things while she slept – her lungs were breathing, her heart was beating, her brain was dreaming, her stomach was digesting food. Now none of those things is happening because her body has stopped working. (A solid understanding of this makes the idea of cremation or burial a lot less upsetting.)

Parents have sometimes told me they didn't want to have small pets such as goldfish or hamsters “because they die.” I would argue that this is one very good reason to have them! Experiencing the life cycle on a manageable scale informs and steels your child for the profounder losses that will follow throughout life. Without suffering loss, a child cannot learn that loss is survivable. Maybe I should state that another way: suffering a loss will teach your child that it's survivable.

The Picky Eater

Dear Susie,

My best friend's little girl, age 2 ½,  is a very adventurous eater.  Also, she eats a good amount at every sitting.  My daughter, who is a little older, eats like a bird and always says "I don't like that" when any unfamiliar food is put before her.  My friend and I share recipes all the time, and our families have similar tastes in food.  What could be causing this?

Dear Parent,

Right up there with toilet learning and oppositional behavior, this is an often-raised topic among parents of toddlers.  Kids in this age range are notoriously poor eaters.  I'd say the “adventurous eater” is the exception, not the rule.  Often I point out two kids at snacktime.  They are about the same height and weight, both equally robust and active.  Yet one eats like a stevedore and the other is – well, in the words of one of my moms, “he's an air fern,” apparently subsisting on airborne nutrients!  It would be nearly impossible to find two grownups with such disparate eating habits who share the same physiognomy and energy level.  What's up with that?

I have to think that Nature protected our hunter-gatherer ancestors by making sure that just-weaned two- and three-year-olds could thrive in times of plenty (without getting too chubby to keep up with the clan) while also being able to subsist when food was scarce.  The gorging stevedore and the air fern may be simply playing out these feast/famine conditions, respectively.  And both kids are fine!

But, since no one seems to worry about the hearty eater, let's focus on why some kids are picky about food.  In some cases, the answer is found in temperament.  Back in the fifties, Alexander Thomas, Stella Chess and others began studying infant temperament.  Their longitudinal study provided concrete evidence of innate personality traits.  This merely provided scientific underpinnings to long-held folk wisdom.  Shakespeare knew it (remember “the four humours”?) and for that matter, so does any parent with more than one kid! 

One feature of temperament, as identified by Thomas and Chess, is Approach.  Approach is about how a person enters into an unfamiliar situation.  For “cautious approach” folks, new foods, new people and new places pose more of a challenge than an opportunity.  These people tend to be that way for life.  Another feature of temperament identified by the researchers is Sensory Awareness.  Kids who are acutely sensitive to sights, smells and textures may balk if the carrots are cut differently, or if the butter on the asparagus is unsalted today.

That said, some toddlers/preschoolers just go through a picky phase.   Some hints on helping a balky eater:

✔     First, try to adopt a blasé, take-it-or-leave-it attitude.  Avoid coaxing and bribing. If you are over-invested, you child can sense this and may try use it for attention and power.  Not pretty!  A toddler's natural obstinacy can extend to the dining table especially if (s)he knows that this is a good way to get your goat.  If I've learned one thing, it's that trying to control either end of a child's alimentary canal (what goes in and what comes out) is a fight you cannot win.  Rely on good vitamin supplements to fill the gaps in the diet.  And vent your frustration on this subject out of earshot of your child.  “He's picky eater” can become a self-fulfilling prophesy.

✔     Introduce new foods one-by-one, gradually but consistently.  A daily dose of unfamiliar foods makes this child feel as disoriented and overstimulated as you might be if I dragged you to a different shopping mall every day.  Experts say that you might have to present a food ten or twenty times before the child will try it.  Most parents give up before the child has become sufficiently familiar with the look and smell of the new food to venture a taste.

✔     “Ooh” and “ahh” about your food, saying how much you like it and describing why.  Do this spontaneously and casually, not in the context of persuading your child to try something.

✔     Try eating family style, as in a Chinese restaurant.  Allow your child to choose for him/herself from the community platter, assisting only with transferring the food, and only if necessary. Your child will feel a sense of control and autonomy, which reduces tension around eating. (Yes, you will have a few more dishes to wash, but it's actually thriftier, since food that spends time on someone's plate and doesn't get eaten usually ends up in the trash.  Food left on the serving plate is perfectly suitable as leftovers or for packing in school lunches – right?)

✔     Kids like “cute food.”  Broccoli trees can grow on mashed potato islands.  Sandwiches can have faces, or come in funny shapes.  Use your imagination!

✔     Reframe “I don't like it.”  If this is a new food, you can respond, “Sounds like you're not sure what this tastes like.”  This addresses the underlying uncertainly (while piquing your child's curiosity) instead of focusing on the negative.

✔     Kids are often more amenable to eating foods they helped make or which they can put together themselves.  Enlist them to tear lettuce for the salad, or cut soft (or parboiled) veggies with a plastic serrated knife.  Serve tacos with all the fillings displayed so the kids and can choose and assemble their own customized dinner.  They often enjoy dipping veggies in ranch dressing, apple sauce + yogurt, peanut butter or hummus.  (A lot of kids prefer raw veggies to cooked ones, and what's the harm in that?)  They enjoy decorating an English muffin or pita with food, then baking and eating it.  Or try deconstructing a pizza:  serve veggies, mushrooms, chunks of cheese, salami and bread sticks that they can dip in pizza sauce.  Play with your food!  (Not literally.  If this devolves into messing, say “Looks like you're not hungry” and take the food away.)

✔     Indulge the need for sameness at breakfast and lunch, but don't let a child's limited repertoire completely derail your family dinner.  Having mac and cheese every night just to cater to one person is pretty dispiriting for the others, and it sets the wrong tone – narrowing options rather than branching out.  Maybe you can compromise by having that child's favorite once a week. (We had Taco Tuesdays for about ten years.  Sometimes I thought I would go utterly mad...but it was a night off from grumbling.)  And whatever you do, don't become a short-order chef, whipping up that special meal for one kid.  My daughter was something of a picky eater, and would often turn up her nose at my dinner offerings.  I was not willing to make separate meals to accommodate her.  The rule was, if she decided not to have what we were having, she could eat corn flakes for dinner (the only allowable alternative – the idea was that Plan B should be a single non-negotiable option as well being something she could prepare herself.)  This went on for about five years, but both of us survived. In fact, as an adult she loves to eat – and enjoys cooking more than her mother does!