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Dear Parents, Surgeon General Viveck Murthy warned parents of the dangers of social media on children & youth. And if you think I have a zillion things to say about this, you are right! Here's the most important take-away from the report: we do not have enough information to really understand the impact of social media on the developing brain and nervous system. We do know that children & youth are increasingly struggling with mental health and social emotional well being, and that their participation in social media has skyrocketed. Something is happening with our young people, but we don't exactly know what- research shows both positive and negative impacts of social media on our children and youth. The recommendation to be cautious with social media is grounded in this not knowing. My opinion? Limit screens for littles. Be very involved with bigs on screens. Use parental controls. Be curious about your child's experience. Be clear about your values. Be open to learning new & more things & to changing recommendations. My Top Screen Time & Social Media Tips Want more help with screens? The best place for support is inside my course. Book a consult to learn more & sign up. Follow Along on TikTok & Instagram and YouTube!

MooMoo, my four year old, grasped my hand and asked for helping turning the water on to wash her hands the moment we walked into preschool. We stood at the outside sink, and I knew today was different. As she rinsed the bubbles off of her fingers, she said in a small voice “mama please stay for a long time with me.” We sat at a tracing table and she traced her name over and over and over, seemingly working out some of her worry on the strip of paper. I kissed her and told her I’d be back so soon- and her little eyes filled with big tears. As she we sat on the steps and her teacher brought a book to read to her, I took a stab at what was wrong, “Are you missing Miss Holly and Bippa right now, sweet pea?” And she burrowed her face into my neck, wailing “I love Miss Holly and I love Bippa and I want a playdate with only us at school to find sparkly jewels.” My own eyes filled as I whispered back “Miss Holly was the best, wasn’t she? And that Bippa- you two are the best of friends. Those jewels were so special.” “I want my old school,” she tearfully whined back. “I know, sweet pea. That old school was just the best. I miss it too. You learned so much at your old school. Today we’re at new school. I think Teacher J has a book for you- let’s see what she brought.” Teacher J sat with us, opening a book. I kissed my little MooMoo again and waved goodbye. You see, we moved six weeks ago. We took this little one out of the only school she’s known- a magical, warm environment where she attended with her bestie Bippa. We moved from our tiny house on the side of a mountain to a big house with a circle that MooMoo loves to ride her bike in and a patch of fruit trees that she can snack from. She is happier. And yet- there is still grief. It was my older children I was more concerned about as we finalized our move. A week before we packed our U-Haul and moved in, we drove our family to this new house. As we told them we were moving, my six year olds began to wail. Big, loud, gut wrenching tears came out of them. I looked at my husband, terrified maybe we made the wrong move. “Un minuto, y vemos,” he murmured. It took three minutes before they wiped their tears and began asking if there was somewhere to ride bikes at the new house. The grief moved right through them, wildly, with fervor. And then it was over. My four year old was more stoic. The six year olds announced to their friends they would be moving in six days, then five, then four and three and two and tomorrow. They easily made new friends, enveloped by a teacher with deep social emotional awareness and a warm demeanor. It’s been trickier for my four year old. She, too, moved into a warm and accepting space and quickly made new buddies. And yet, her grief has been slower- perhaps, I have wondered, because her attachment to her preschool community was so deep and so healthy. Today, after our upset at preschool about missing our old preschool, we brought out the Goodbye Book that her class made her. Initially, she carried this book everywhere with her- for at least ten days. It was comforting to her- an object that tied her to her beloved community, a tangible way to process her loss and transition. My older daughters each had one as well, but it wasn’t as critical in soothing their transition. But grief isn’t linear and MooMoo’s popped up again today. Together, we looked at each page, and read the notes from her friends. We took out the craft supplies, and began writing and creating and crafting for her old friends at her old preschool. As she told me what to write, her little heart in all it’s fullness and grief shown through, especially when she dictated things like “I love you my friends… I can’t see you but I love you so much… We were moving. I like to play with you all, see you next time.” and “I wish I had a playdate with you. I can’t because we moved. I don’t come to school anymore because we moved. Bye” As she placed jewels on each creation and we prepared her envelope to mail these beautiful offerings to her old teacher and friends, things felt full. She’s allowed to have these feels. It is tricky but heartfelt to support her in them. I know she is moving through- she has a few new friends she adores (though let’s be honest, her pal Bippa is fairly unparalleled) and she enjoys her new school and teacher. And all things can be true- she can long for her old set up and the familiar comfort it offered as much as she appreciates her new school and community. When we consider moving children and the grief that comes with closing chapters and moving on to the next one, some thing I have kept in mind for my four year old Moo Moo especially but also my younger two: —grief takes time, and most children know what to do with theirs. For many, it is big and wild but not very caught up in any previous challenges or traumas, and so it moves quickly. —grief is unpredictable, and it might pop up in slight or momentary ways when it doesn’t seem logical. It is OK to tend to what arises, even if it seems illogical (like- she’s been to this preschool happily for weeks!). —transitional objects can be so powerful: a special thing, book, story, or even rock from an old place might be a source of great comfort for a child who is moving. —priming is key: prime your child forward. Set them up for success with positive, hopeful narratives and lots of conversation about how things will go down. Often, breaking things down into very small pieces is critical. —storytelling is a balm: support your child to storytell about their experiences. Offer materials to do so- whether it’s cards and stickers to tell stories to their new friends and a grownup who can write out their words, or a song or dance that portrays their experience- having a way to actualize their experiences and having others witness them is what helps grief move- and helps children feel seen and hopeful and valued. We need stories. So do our children. —some ways to help children who are missing their old schools: write letters to old friends. set up video chats. invite visits. read stories about moving. reinforce new friends with playdates. lean into feelings by offering SIMPLE language.

In her book Connections Over Compliance Lori Desautels (2021) writes of draining off a child’s stress with adult calm. While there is lots of rich knowledge about kids, brains, and regulation in this book, the metaphor that meant the most to me was the visual of draining the stress stayed with me. I imagined the grown up, literally a sieve through which the child’s stress filters and drains, gone. This afternoon just me and my four year old were home and I thought we could do some “co-work.” I set her up on a big purple pillow in my office with a mini desk, a pencil-pouch full of crayons, and a sketchbook. I lit a candle and put on some soft piano music and then I sat at my own desk across from her. I opened emails and worked on a programmatic flow chart. It did last a while- maybe 15 minutes or so. Then she started getting whiny. She wanted to pretend she was my puppy, and for a minute it worked for her to lie under my desk panting while I wiggled my toes near her tummy. Then she needed a snack, STAT. We walked downstairs to the kitchen together and then back upstairs to my office and got her settled with sliced cucumber + hummus and a water bottle with crushed ice (ice cubes not acceptable). That lasted 10-12 minutes, while I worked through the first few steps of my flow chart. Then the whining began, again and I cursed myself for not sending this gorgeous child with the stick-straight black hair and big, soulful eyes with my husband, who had whisked her older sisters off to gymnastics, an ostensibly boring activity for a child not in the class. I’d given her a set of silver and gold tiny animal figurines to play with in the storage off of my office, which she and her sisters had taken hostage as a secondary playroom and moved pillows, couches, and scarves into (even though the space really is a storage). From inside the storage room she piped up “I don’t know to do this, mama. I don’t know to play with these. They’s not dogs. They’s zebras and dogs don’t go to the zoo. I’m a dog, mama. I can’t walk, mama. I scrape my leg and I can’t walk. I’m a doggy and I can’t walk, mama. Carry me to the couch….” I shut my laptop. I reached into the Old Navy bag I’d brought home after returning a couple of things this morning. At the check-out, the on-sale make-up brushes had caught my eye, no doubt because I’d been listening to Desautels’ Connections Over Compliance while I drove. She describes an activity with preschoolers in which she uses make-up brushes to disrupt the beginnings of edgy dysregulation (kids fighting over game pieces, kids expressing inflexibility & boredom). Relying on the light, soft touch to activate kids’ nervous systems and support their sensory integration, the make-up brushes in her story were used as tools for connection. When the teacher noticed small moments of dysregulation, she pulled kids from the group and offered instead, a 1:1 sensory experience that highlighted sensory needs, but just as important, highlighted connection. Holding this story close, I asked my sweet and whiny girl if she’d like to try something new with mama. I pulled out the make-up brushes and we took off the plastic. Just the day prior, I’d found her with a facefull of my makeup, and even without the color she was curious about the textures, shapes and sizes of the brushes. In moments, we were playing. “I’m going to paint your eyes!” she squealed in glee. “Circles on your tummy with the fat brush,” I responded. We took turns painting our toes, our faces, our backs and our limbs. Importantly, it was play. Yes, I could leap into making sense of our make-up brush play with bilateral touch, brain based connection and processing, stimulating and calming sensory needs, but what would that serve, except for divorcing me from the sensory experience I was having with the brushes and this child? Our shared experience of play was absolutely the most important thing in turning our afternoon together around. That is what I want to highlight for you: through our humor and playfulness, we resolved her whininess and feelings of not know what to do with her time. We relied on sensory tools- the make up brushes- but the main ingredient of the healing and resetting that we both experienced was not the make-up brushes, it was the play. Yes, the play was sensory-oriented and evoked brain and body connections, and that mattered. But all of that sensory integration and brain/body connection was contained within the context of our play. It is impossible to support our littlest ones without play. I think the reason the image of myself as a sieve for draining off my daughters’ stress resonated so, was that it made me think of me and my body as the instrument, as opposed to the make-up brushes or fidgets or items in a calm-down corner. Yes, there are objects- like in this case, make up brushes (and in other cases, these items might be calm-down corners, fidget spinners, glitter jar timers, or other calming objects) but the truth is- it is not the object that supports the child. It is the engagement in relationship between adult and child that matters, and sometimes objects like make up brushes, blankets, heating pads, and stuffies can enhance that relationship. However, at the end of the day, it is the relationship with the adult that supports regulation. For my little girl, it was not the make-up brushes that supported her regulation. The make-up brushes were a tool. What helped her to come back into her body, get back to normal tone of voice over whining, and ultimately, to resume independent play? It was our shared play with the make-up brushes. She got lots of sensory input as I brushed them over her face, arms, and legs. She got pressure as I moved us from just make-up-brush-play to more high-pressure sensory play. And she got the high quality giggles and love from me, as we pretended we were puppies and brushed the brushes over our faces. Did I finish that programmatic schema? No. I did make some good progress, and when her sisters got home from gymnastics I elected to let them all indulge in screens so I could finish what emails I could. But at the end of the day- what I signed up for in life was these girls. So I’ll be over here, using my whole body to drain off stress from my kids. That might look like curling my body around theirs for postural support during a high tension magna-tile build, or it might look like breaking out the cheap makeup brushes when a sister gets edgy about sharing. Any which way it looks, it will involve dropping my other commitments to show up in an embodied way for my kids. Sometimes I won’t be able to do it, and I’ll need to take care of myself, instead. I’ll need to take my own bath or use the make-up brushes on my own self. That will be OK too- in fact, that is the most important thing I can give to my children…. My own self care and soothing. But when I can be their sieve, it will involve quite literally, using my body to support them to los the extra stress and show up exactly as they are- beautiful, confident, independent little souls in whom I delight. And yet- all children have this core, and it’s our job as the grownups to be the sieve, to shine them up, to see their glimmer even when it’s cloudy and hard- and to move with them towards a clearing, knowing and holding always that glimmer, that hope, that beauty.

Let's be real- sometimes the hardest part of parenting is your co-parent. When you're working with the Positive Parenthood approach, it can be challenging to have one parent totally on board with a positive, gentle approach when the other just isn't. And many of you have been asking....in this situation, what do I do? If this is your experience, we encourage you to sign up for our free online workshop Parenting Together with Dr. Robin Hauge and Dr. Chelsey Hauge on Friday, January 17th at 8pm PST. We'll be sharing some resources for slowly bringing your partner on board and discussing the best tools to experiment with. There will be a replay available through the weekend for those of you who can't make it, but it's so much better to be able to be there and ask questions and participate int he conversation. You can sign up here (limited seats so we can do Q&A)- and for now, read on! First of all, we acknowledge how hard it can be to use a relationship based approach without your partner's support, and that a completely different approach may undermine your efforts or confuse your children. For many parents who face big challenges or are raising really tricky, defiant, or creatively challenging children, it can be hard to believe that being more gentle and positive and kind is going to actually get children to cooperate. Often, we have very skeptical parents who have come through our courses move towards relationship based parenting, and we work with them until they come to understand and more than understand, feel how this approach works. Most of them use intuitively by the end of our work together, often because they're able to connect with a deeper part of themselves. We've put together this list of tips and tricks for working with someone wherever they are in their parenting journey, and supporting them to make even the smallest shifts towards a relationship-based approach. 1. Meet them wherever they are. It can be challenging to meet your partner where they are, especially if you want them to be parenting your child in a different way. Try to empathize with where they are coming from, and know that people can only make shifts when they are truly ready to make the shift. In our work with parents, we often highlight the importance of joining a child in their activity and feelings if they are upset, and before requesting an action or moving through a transition. 2. Praise & notice small shifts. The very first parenting tool we teach is praise. Praise works wonders to guide children towards cooperation, but it also works for grown-ups. Let's be honest- we are all human beings and all of us need a little extra love. We need to be noticed. We need our spouses to witness what we are doing, and it's meaningful to know that someone else knows and is witnessing us. At times, parents tell us that their child has such a hard time that they have nothing to praise, and we typically counter with "praise the shards." Shards are the itty bitty moments that are going well: the one second of waiting before the child melts down or a single step towards the shoe basket after being asked to get ready to go. Likewise, when you catch your co-parent doing something sweet, praise that thing! We are trying to build towards more of the things that are already working well. And if you must, find the shards. However I caution you, you must be authentic, or this will backfire gigantically. Be real. Be sweet. Be kind. Be authentic. 3. Agree to experiment with a single tool for a determined period of time. Keep your own mind open- this may be a tool that works and you may need to try something different. Decide to apply the tool to a behavior, routine, or moment that is just a wee bit challenging (as in, pick getting ready to go to the park which is sometimes slightly chaotic and could go better instead of something during your kids' witching hour. When you're selecting what you'd like to go better, stay away from hot button issues- for your child and for the parents. During our free workshop Parenting Together, we will discuss our top pick for the first tool to experiment with- Positive Opposites. Most skeptics like a good, research based, easy to to implement tool that yields success pretty fast- Positive Opposites checks all those boxes. But whatever you pick, remember to be playful with it and keep things light. Want to join us for that workshop on January 17, 2020? Sign up here to save your spot! 4. Sit down and define family values. Just like we might sit down and write out annual or quarterly goals at work, it's good to get clear on what you as a family believe, how you want your children to grow up, and what the related parenting techniques you want to employ are. We like to do this by brainstorming, with the question "What is the most important thing we want to nurture in our children?" written on a poster. Then we turn on some good music and each of us takes a couple of minutes to answer the question on post-its. We put one answer per post it, and stick it on the poster. When you're done, organize the post-its and try to synthesize. Do you agree? How can you mesh the things that are most important to you together? Once you've done this, see if you can come up with a statement about your parenting values, or a list of values, that feels representative and true to you both. As you shift things in your parenting, come back to this statement or list- we'd encourage you to put it on your fridge! 5. It is true that there are many ways to parent. This is only one. If a parent is struggling or pushing back on positive, relationship based approaches, it might be time to inquire whether what the parent is already doing is working for them. If it is working, there's really no reason to make a shift. For example, for a long time it worked for my children to all sleep in my bed. But as they grew, they started waking me a lot and my 2.5 year old started sleeping on my belly and waking up to trace tiny circles with her finger on my skin. It had worked for a long time, but now I wasn't getting enough sleep- it was time for a change. When I asked myself the question "is it working?" the answer was no. Typically, when skeptical parents argue that this approach is too hard, too much, or not going to work.... what we say is... "OK. Is what you're doing working?" Invariably, it is not. And so we quietly wonder together, by joining the parent in their frustration, what we might do differently?

You know what summer camps really got right? Melodic intonation. At summer camp, everyone sings. There are breakfast songs and lunch songs and done with dinner songs and swimming songs and walking somewhere songs and bedtime songs. There are even contests where someone shouts out a random word (like say, "alligator") and groups have to sing a song that has that word in it. What's right about this? The little kids sing. The big kids sing. It's fun. It's silly. It's expected. It helps everyone move from place to place. It's a ritual. There are sing-song songs, and hand motion songs and repeat after me songs and chant songs. Here is a YouTube playlist of some camp songs- in case you need to get inspired. Here's the secret that every camp counselor knows: everything is better with a song, no one cares if you're off-tune, and anything can be made into a song. This carefree, must-sing attitude would do well to sneak into your everday parenting. Sometimes, we grow up and become adults and have kids and forget that somewhere inside of us, there's a kid (or maybe a camp counselor) that loved (or would have loved) camp songs. Parenting seems so serious. But the truth of the matter is, a little levity- and a whole lot of camp songs- could do us an awful lot for supporting our challenging children.  We'd be singing- helping them understand. We'd be staying light and bright ourselves- helping them to co-regulate and stay calm. We'd be entering their worlds, having fun, keeping it light. So I urge you: unearth your inner camp counselor. Let her out to play. Encourage her. Be silly with her. ​Your kids will follow.

We all know how hard it is to stay calm when your child is having a tantrum because soccer practice is over (or in the grocery checkout line, or after school...). Especially when that lady watching you leans in and says "You just need to...." She has no idea what you need to do. She probably has no idea what your child needs, or what it feels like to mother your child as they fall apart in a public place. Here's the deal: no matter what you do, it's not going to work unless YOU are calm. The best methods will fail with parental calm. There are many reasons why, but here are a few based on the research in education and co-regulation:Calm decreases the chance that the parent will escalate.  When you are calm, you are able to stay with the plan- sticking with a plan is crucial. This is especially the case when you are changing your parenting methods. Until Positive Parenthood becomes second nature, it's critical you make a plan and commit to following through even when, and if it's awkward. After all, that's how we learn. But to do that, you've got to stay calm. Calm decreases the chance of a deadlock of wills. When you get into a fixed, deadlock position (as in, there is NO WAY you are going to budge) your child often mirrors your state (see our work on co-regulation). If you're deadlocked, and your kid is deadlocked... it's pretty unlikely either of you has the emotional capacity to shift the dynamic and move into a more regulated state that allows you to move forward. Children benefit from seeing and feeling your calm: this is where co-regulation is so critical. When you are calm in the middle of a conflict, children see that it's possible to have conflict without excessive anger or without giving up in dismay. By watching you, they learn to regulate through a range of emotional states with another person. These are lessons that will serve your child for their entire life- all people need to be able to move through frustration and challenge in positive ways. You are the model for your child, so show them with your own behavior how you want them to respond during challenging times. Calm parents are less exhausted, more energized, positive, and inspired. It's just more enjoyable, and more fun to be a calm parent.  The research is clear: we've got to calm down. It's hard in a world with a million things happening at once and other adults commenting on your parenting, but it's imperative. The kind of calm you're shooting for is a calm that is warm and accepting. It is a calm that invites connection. Sometimes, we get calm and flat, detached and uninvolved, and totally shut down when things are challenging with our children. To be clear- this is not what we want when we think about calm. We want a quality of calm that invites the child to connect, not that blankets everyone in silence and pretends whatever is going awry isn't happening at all. Think about the quality of calm that you like most- the one that makes your belly feel warm and your shoulder muscles relax. That presence- open, grounded, inviting- is what you want to offer to your child all the time, but especially during times of extreme challenge.

Lots of research suggests that if possible, parents should keep little eyes away from screens. At the very least, most studies show that children under two should not be exposed to screens because the impact on their brains is pretty negative. However- there’s little research on the impact of screens and parenting… and yet we all know how deeply cell technologies have shifted parenting practices. Most of us have thousands- if not millions- of photos that chronicle our children’s lives. We send them over text and post them to social media. And often, we share, view, and swipe on our digital devices while we are parenting. I do it all the time- when things are really mundane, I just need a little freshness or to know that there are other mothers out there doing the same things as I am. Connecting is soothing, it helps me feel a part of a community raising children, and it makes me feel visible. What’s really interesting about this is that my desire to be part of something really big and relational and community oriented is mediated by a cell phone, and many researchers believe that that cell phone facilitating my connection to others is harming the connection I have with my children. The issue is that while I’m filling my attentional needs through social media, my children are making bids for my attention, and I’m failing to respond. I think we need to complicate this: surely, women have long failed to respond to their children because they were preoccupied by other women, activities, work- whatever it was. However, I do think this challenge is symptomatic of late capitalism, even if I favor a more holistic view that incorporates technology as fundamental to our society over the blame-based model where social media is blamed for weakening relationships between parent and child. The truth is, we all need connection: both children and adults require it. Children’s brains are developing, and they are also learning how to behave socially- and so connection with their parents is really important. However, mothers now spend more time with their children than they did in the 1960s! So what is going on? Let’s take a step back and look at the systems: we live in a world that often requires both parents to work full-time, just to make ends meet. Families are often scattered across different cities and states. Financial stress, the sleek perfection of family life curated on social media, and in most of us, a deep desire for connection are part of the portrait that makes up our lives. It’s no wonder we reach for our phones and start to scroll, even when our children need us. So what’s to be done about it? Start connecting. Put your phone away when you’re with your kids. Select activities to do with your children that you really love- activities that make your forget about your phone. Connect with others- attend groups and classes and playdates where there are other moms and other children. Build opportunities into your life where both you and your child receive the kind of connection you both crave, deserve, and need. Be aware of your habits, but be gentle with yourself. It’ OK to want to be connected, and it’ a need you can fulfill in one of many different ways. So go fourth, and find your tribe!

Mama, she whispered. Mama, I want to facetime gramma. Mama, can I put your password in? I was asleep, and my little one nudged the side of my face, asking for my cell phone. I sighed and handed it over, the memory of my children’s screen use getting out of hand earlier this year still fresh in my mind. You see, screens are different in a pandemic, aren’t they? We were a “moderate” screen use family, and I’m a screen-positive mama- until things went South. It was on the drive home from our annual family Tahoe trip as my three year old screamed “Give! Me! My! Phone!” (it was actually my phone) that I realized I had to make a shift. Two and a half weeks into “No Screen March,” which I was using to reset our families’ screen practices…. COVID-19 hit. I’m proud that we stayed screen-free through March, and that we did indeed, reset. Our family’s current practice is Friday or Saturday night movie night- and we discuss which movie all week, make special treats, and all watch together. We host a daily zoom, and Facetime with cousins and friends. And we are so gentle with ourselves- last week, I was utterly exhausted. We watched a movie. It is a time to be gentle about screen use- and yet, we rely so heavily right now on screens. Screens have become the portal through which many of our children learn. Parents are left attempting to manage multiple kids on multiple virtual meetings, scrambling for the correct link and enough screens for multiple children to participate. For some of our children, especially those who can manage the links and the assignments and the tech troubleshooting- virtual learning is empowering. Through their screen, they enter into a world with friends, bright images, familiar content and teachers who miss them. They are transported from their bedroom or living room into a digital classroom that is vast. And for others, virtual learning might imply a loss of agency: they may be unable to manage multiple zoom meeting numbers, or they may struggle to connect with teachers and friends without being able to read their body language and affect. Sitting at a screen might just be too much, or their bodies might be sensitive to the blue light or the flat faces on the screen. For some, a show while mama loads the dishwasher is a good break, for others seeing a beloved relative on a screen but not being able to nestle into their arms is too much. For some, screens are up-regulating. For others, they are down-regulating. All of these ways of being are OK. Our task as parents is to identify how screens are going for each of our children, and to respond accordingly. Join us next week to discuss how to manage screens and how to make sense of your child’s experience. The most important thing is our children’s social emotional health right now. The relationship you have with your child is what is going to help them move through this time, screens or no screens. So nurture that relationship, and experiment with what works regarding media use. And know that dropping out of virtual academic opportunities is just fine. Delving into digital making with your teen is just fine. Doing what you need to do to nurture your child’s emotional experience of this global event is what is most important right now: academically, your child will catch up. Their heart is the most important thing, and their heart is deeply connected to yours. Take care of yourselves, dear parents.

It went down like this: one twin was pretty into it and excited until we walked through the door and I made motions to leave; the other twin was never really into it and was similarly even less into it when I made motions to leave. After extracting myself from their grips and dashing out the door, I stood outside and listened to them scream. Other parents offered me pained expressions. I wondered if they'd been here, but also couldn't imagine them ever being here because most of their children walked in, hung their backpacks and waved goodbye. For the record, I'm not sure that's ever going to happen to me. Like, ever. And since I'm all up in the #positiveparenthood tools, I decided I'd think about which tool would help with this ugly transition. Or, real talk: I called my mother, Robin Hauge, and shared this story of enormous tears at preschool drop off, and then she positive-parenthood schooled me. She said, "Chelsey you need to prime this for them: Today was tricky at drop off, but Thursday is going to be easier when you get to school. Thursday, we will get to school and I will give you a kiss and you will wave bye bye, and it will be fun!" Trust me I was rolling my eyes. Mostly because I wanted her to understand that my twins cried more than ALL of the other children, and #whatamigoingtodo. But I knew she was right. And I've been doing it. Priming is telling the child what is going to happen, before it happens. It's laying the train track long before the train has left the station. It's thinking about- and articulating- how we want our children to imagine a situation before it occurs. Why is imagination important? Think about it: when you've got something big coming up, you likely think abut it first. Maybe you practice the presentation. Maybe you run it through your head. Maybe you imagine it to be a smashing success. Being able to imagine a positive, hopeful, forward moving outcome to a new situation is the stuff of resilience and grit. Priming is your opportunity to help your child establish the pathways in their brain that allow them to do this for themselves. So I'll just be over here, talking to my littles about how we will kiss and high five at preschool drop off, and how it is going to be so, so fun and so, so easy. It might not be perfect tomorrow, less you get discouraged! But I will keep trying. I know it will be a little better tomorrow. And even a little more better the next time.

I said nothing but YES to my children for 24 hours. Though others warned me this would spoil them and cautioned me they’d want to go straight to Target to pick out all the biggest toys, this wasn’t what happened at all. In fact, we had zero meltdowns, no whining episodes, and zero sibling squabbles despite the fact that we did donuts, zoo, beach, pizza, ice cream, Target, and bonfire all in one day. Here’s what went down: we prepared for YES DAY. They knew it was coming, and I cleared my schedule. We brainstormed about what they’d like to do on YES DAY. The night before, we made a list of desired activities. I put the list on a clipboard, which made it very official. One child propped it by the door so we wouldn’t forget it in the morning. They woke early, excited to have their YES DAY. We had breakfast and then washed the windows (it was on the list!). Everyone got to spray the windex and use the squeegee. We packed swimsuits for the beach even though it was cold and foggy, and I didn’t ask why or protest, I simply said YES. We stopped for donuts and sat at the bar to eat them. We built sand castles and played in the foggy surf. When it got too cold, we went out to lunch. They ordered cheese pizza and double scoops of gelato. Then we headed to the zoo. We called Papá on our way home and asked him to make tacos, the dinner they easily agreed upon even though we typically struggle to agree on who gets to get into the car first in the morning, let alone menu options. They did want to go to Target, and I did put some boundaries around what they could get. They specifically asked to get something not from the dollar bins, and so we agreed that each child could get something smaller than her arm. It worked! Everyone happily picked out toys under $20, and one child accepted the reminder from her sister that a gigantic remote control car was not smaller than her arm. This was actually significant because we went to Target late- like dinnertime, and the children were entirely agreeable and cheerful. After dinner, hubby and I scrounged for cardboard to build a bonfire because all the wood was wet, and we roasted marshmallows. And then everyone (me included) fell into bed exhausted. No meltdowns happened all day long. No major cases of the whines. No big blow-ups on my part or the children’s part. I recognize that our very full day was so easy because I was so focused on the girls. I climbed into their world and let them guide me with their perspective. When they were dying to stop and watch some construction people laying a wood floor on the way to the ice cream shop, we sat on the sidewalk and talked to the workers. When they asked for rainbow sprinkle donuts but then decided they wanted red and green sprinkles only after they’d been served, the donut waitress person happily obliged the request. When they wanted to park on the bottom parking lot of the zoo, I agreed and we started with the petting zoo. When they thought it would be fun to sing twinkle-twinkle to the otters, I sang at the top of my lungs. Everything we did was focused on their needs, hearts, bodies, and souls. I was truly present, aside from trying to photograph the entire thing because it was so special. I made time, I said yes, and when things got a little wonky like once when they wanted to run through a parking lot, I sat us all down on a curb and we made up a chant about how we were going to walk together. When they were ready, we stood up, chanted together, and walked across the parking lot hand in hand. I’m not suggesting that we only ever say yes to our children. Of course it is not possible to always say yes. But saying yes for 24 hours made me realize over and over and over again, how often I say no. How often I pull their little hands past construction people building floors, how often I tell them they cannot change their mind after they’ve picked a donut or flavor or activity, how often I make up reasons we cannot park in the lower zoo parking lot simply because I prefer the upper one. Saying yes for 24 hours gave me the opportunity to share with my children how much I care about them through action. It allowed me communicate clearly, that they are the most important thing. We often say that they highest form of praise is presence, and that the most effective parenting tool is praise. I learned an awful lot during YES DAY, especially that I love to be able to give all my presence and praise to my daughters. I learned that I need to carve out time and space for YES DAY- time when I expect to only be with my children, following their wonder and curiosity. My life can get so hectic with work and meal planning and my larger than life laundry pile that never goes away. When things start to get hairy, my heart begins to feel dull and uninspired. The answer for me is always connection, and on YES DAY, I found that connection with my girls. I think when their behavior starts to get hairy, the answer is also to be found in YES DAY. For tricky behavior almost always stems from stress, and for most of our children, the antidote to stress is positive, sweet, kind acknowledgement from the people they love. I try to give my childen a taste of yes day every day, but it’s not always possible. Sometimes I’m too stressed, or the requests are too outlandish, or there are just too many things to do. But from here on out, yes day is going to be a monthly institution in our family. It’s the kind of parent I want to be- utterly willing and completely excited to say yes all day long, and climb in gratefully and wholeheartedly into their world as often as possible. Thank you dear children, for leading me on yes day!

I am going to tell you a little story, and it is going to help you understand why co-regulation is at the heart of Positive Parenthood, and why parental calm can (almost always) save the day, and also, why parental stress can (almost always) ruin the day. It is a true story.  I took my three little girls to a play-space. When we first arrived, my littlest was dead asleep, and so while the big girls played I settled into a rocking chair and basked in the sweetness that is heavy baby sleep. I stuck my purse in one of the cubbies near the rocker. I watched my big girls jump on the trampoline. The baby woke up, and I followed her around. And then I told my littles we were going to be heading out: first we had five minutes, then three minutes, then one minute, then a countdown. We put our shoes on. One child started crying. I implored her to put on her shoes. She did.  And then I reached for my purse and realized my keys were no longer in it.  Had I taken them out? I scanned the rocking chair area- had they fallen out in the cubby? I circled the play area once, then twice- had I dropped them? Left them in the bathroom?  My sensitive child noticed and started asking "Mama, where's our keys? Mama? Mama? We gonna have our keys? Mama?"  Because exactly what you need after you've spent what feels like forever preparing your children to leave the playspace and swing by the grocery store is to freaking lose your keys and have your child ask you approximately four hundred and seven times if we are going to find them.  The others moms started helping. One dove into the ball pit also known as germ pit to look. The employee swore she'd seen the keys on the bright blue lanyard. We all looked. Two of my children resumed playing. The third- yah, that sensitive one who'd already asked four hundred and seven times if I was going to find my keys- gripped my hand and wrinkled her forehead. "Mama, they in the caaar? Mama how we going to our caaar? Mama we go to store now? You find your keys? We going mama? I help you look? They fall out of your purse?"  She was basically narrating all of my worry, which I wore on my face and in my heart. Finally I called my husband. And worried child asks "Mama is Papa coming here? Is he here? Is he driving? Where is Papa? We going in Papa's car?"  Another mother swore she saw a child wearing the keys around her neck. I begged the employee to call everyone who'd been there, and beg the parents to search their diaper bags.  I called the car dealership, who informed me I'd have to tow the car and pay like, thousands of dollars to have a new key made. I'm like I f*cking hate FOBs and I wish I had a regular key and technology sucks and I suck and if I'm gonna spend a couple thousand dollars I want a vacation and a babysitter and I am probably going to be paying off the stupid f*cking mistake for like ever because how could I have lost the damn keys, and some assh*le parent let their kid take my keys out of my purse and I f*cking hate this whole situation.  And there piped up my worried three year old "Mama we going home? You no find your keys? They are lost? The kids do it? They not in the balls? She looking? Lady calling the mamas because someone was playing with keys?" This child hears every freaking thing every single person ever says, and sometimes she hears it even when we don't say it. She must be telepathic.  So then I called my mom, because I realized that three carseats wouldn't fit in my husband's car, and we'd need two cars to get home. My husband arrives and starts looking. My mom arrives and sits down in the lobby ands not three minutes later stands up and says "I found them." Two hours of searching and my mom finds them in three minutes. Of course.  We went out to Thai because it was way past dinnertime, and my worried child continued to be worried- as evidenced by the wrinkles on her little forehead. Her twin- the one who'd happily gone back to playing- started to whine. She wanted to sit on my lap and wrap her arms around my neck. She did not want to sit with her Papá, or her grandmother. She teetered on the edge of tantrum. I was like really?!?!? Now?!?!? Have you ever felt like that, like on the one day where you're like I just really need them to be good because I cannot take anymore they are the absolute worst?  It's called co-regulation, and it's the reason our kids lose it every time we have a horrible day. Did you see how my worried little one gripped my hand, tighter each time I made another lap around the play-space, turning over buckets and lifting up cushions? Did you see how she entered a state of hyper-alert awareness as my stress grew, and her little ears picked up every single word I said, and she tried to use her little three year old mind and language to understand what was happening, "Mama we no have keys, mama you lose your keys, mama is papa coming?"  She didn't just read my words, though. She's only three, but she's got a super-power that allows her to feel me like she's telepathic. Some people call it heart-reading. That's why even if I hadn't said a word, she would have known.  And the truth is, her telepathic heart-reading was accurate. She could feel what I was thinking, which, remember... went something like this: I f*cking hate FOBs and I wish I had a regular key and technology sucks and I suck and if I'm gonna spend a couple thousand dollars I want a vacation and a babysitter and I am probably going to be paying off the stupid f*cking mistake for like ever because how could I have lost the damn keys, and some assh*le parent let their kid take my keys out of my purse and I f*cking hate this whole situation.  You probably are thinking.. "dude, she needs to go to therapy and I never get that stressed." But I'm gonna call your bluff. If you actually listen to the voices in your head, what, actually, are they saying? And if you're really, really honest, how often do you think your little ones feel the feeling you're having, without being able to articulate what is going on? The prone-to-whining twin  has heart-telepathy too, she just shows it differently. She doesn't ask a million questions, she doesn't help search, she doesn't wrinkle her little brow.... she clings, she falls apart, she tantrums. She comes to what she knows is secure- in this case, me- and holds on tight. And her little eyes fill up with tears and her chin quavers and she demands whatever she wants, and panics when she can't have it. And here's the rub: now she needs security and consistency but I'm stressed out myself and can't really give it to her, and so she gets more stressed, which makes me more stressed, which makes her more stressed, which makes me more stressed... which is how we ended up with a whiney tantrum just as the green curry was being set on the table.  What I want to say here, is that this is a practice. We're all going to get stressed. What I could have said was... "Sweetie, mama is really worried right now, isn't she! Gosh. I bet we'll find our keys. Can I have a hug?" I bet if could have articulated to them, in an age appropriate way, that I was having a rough go, they would have looked at me and said "It's ooooo-k" in the same sing-song way they do when they're well-regulated and the goldfish spill on the floor.  What matters is that we practice staying calm, that we reflect on our experiences and share that reflection with our kids, so that they can witness how we deal with our stress, and through that witnessing become little beings with extraordinary ability to move through whatever life throws at 'em... even lost keys in a toddler play-space.