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.