Why are transitions so darn hard?
My kids love the beach, but once had full-on screaming fits about going. I followed all the expert advice: five-minute warnings, reminders they could come back to what they were doing later, even promising ice cream. Still, they were adamant: “We hate the ocean, and we don’t like ice cream!” Twenty minutes later, they were happily building sandcastles, but by then, I was ready to be buried in sand.
Transitions (shifting between activities) are tough for kids. We've all been there: late for something, chasing them with their shoes, desperately trying to get them to cooperate so we can get to the thing. Why are transitions so darn hard?
Let’s look at what they require kids (and us!) to do:
Let go of something. Every transition is a loss: put down the game, stop the project, say goodbye to the friend. Letting go is tough, especially if kids are hyper-focused, deeply invested, or can’t imagine getting it back soon. It requires flexibility, which is hard for many of our kids.
Change attentional focus. We’re saying, “Stop paying attention to that, and pay attention to what I want you to.” Focus switching can be really hard for kids, especially if there’s that hyperfocus or deep interest. It’s not that they are refusing to focus on the transition; it’s that they can’t make themselves do it, or it requires a lot of energy or specific input.
Meet demands. Most transitions are full of expectations. Clean up toys, get on your sneakers, find your homework. Put on pants. Each individual expectation might be hard for kids to do (or to do independently or when their mind is elsewhere or in the time frame given to them). Some kids might have a hard time with demands in general. Transitions are rarely kid-motivated, and they rarely offer a reward. Often, the next activity is full of more demands. It’s no wonder inertia takes over.
See the future. Even if the next thing is ice cream, kids have to picture it. They have to conjure up that image (hard for a lot of kids), hold that image (stay focused!), and let that image guide them as they get ready (you can’t wear your snow boots to dance class). For kids with things like working memory challenges, this is a LOT to hold in one head. Even when kids are able to picture the thing, it’s sometimes a memory of really having blown it the last time they were there, which adds to the stress and the inertia.
Do it NOW. Transitions are often rushed. We’re late getting ourselves ready, so we’re late getting the kids ready, and the dog is sick, and the sink suddenly leaks, so we’re not only saying, “Do all these things,” but also, “Do them NOW.” Some kids need time: time to move their focus, to process the directions, to overcome the inertia, and to do the thing. Rushing weakens focus and executive function, making it harder for kids to process and act, and it keeps us from communicating and managing the transition carefully.
Find some energy. Most transitions are not to ice cream and the beach. They’re to school, to tutoring, to the dinner table. They’re taking kids who are already exhausted and asking them to gear up for another challenge. It’s, “Welcome to the car after a long day of school; we’re meeting your math tutor in 7 minutes. Here’s a granola bar; where’s your homework?”
Recover from surprise. Even regular transitions seem to come as a surprise. Kids do that thing where they sputter, “What?!” like you haven’t been to the tutor every Wednesday all year. Maybe they truly don’t have the routine in their head. Maybe their memory can’t hold on to that kind of schedule detail. Maybe they weren’t paying attention the first 10 times you mentioned it. Maybe they’re just indignant because the prospect of all the energy it’s going to take to do the tutoring is so daunting (we’ve all been there).
Forget that fighting worked last time. Sometimes kids are convinced if they make the transition hard enough, they won’t have to do it (my husband truly believed if he hid well enough on Sunday mornings, his parents would give up and go to church without him). The hard part: they’re not always wrong. Sometimes transitions go poorly, and adults bail on the plan. Other times, it’s easier to do the work of transitioning for them: we squeeze them into coats and shoes while they’re still clutching the game, or postpone facing the battle, rewarding them with more time. If avoiding transition worked last time, why wouldn’t a child try it again?
So, what to do about it?
Before the transition time
Set and share the schedule. Make sure they know what’s next. Transitions are a lot easier when they’re part of a routine. The more you can follow a routine, the easier most things will be. If the next activity is tough, focus on what comes after: “First tutoring, then dinner at Olive Garden.”
Warnings. Give a series of “X minute warnings,” so kids aren’t surprised by the transition. That’s helpful for many kids. My kids disagreed: they said warnings stressed them out, so by the actual transition time, they were already annoyed at my pestering and braced for disagreement. If you use warnings, ensure they’re heard: get on children’s level, disrupt gently, and confirm understanding. Stick to real-time limits: no “5 minutes” over and over that last 20 minutes. Otherwise, you’re just making noise.
Build in a break. Give them a rest between activities. Bring a calming, fun activity to pick-up, and take ten minutes to sit there quietly and decompress with a snack before tutoring. Even if it makes you late, it’s better to be late and ready than to show up red-faced and frustrated and still late.
Allow extra time. Plan more transition time than you think you’ll need. Rushing never works. Do I remember this every time? Of course not (sigh). But it’s true.
During the transition
Visual reminders. Use visual timers, photos of the scheduled activity, or objects that remind kids what’s next. Show them the visual when it’s time to transition, and make sure they look at it (you can do this without words). Plus, you can make the visual reminder be the “bad guy” – you can’t argue with the car clock saying it’s time to go.
Sing or play a song for the transition. Preschools do this all the time (The Clean-Up Song!), but you can let older kids choose a tune too. The hope is that kids get used to being ready by a familiar point in the song. It’s fun, nonverbal, and lightens the mood.
Stagger the transition. “If you get your coat on, you can have 5 more minutes,” then, “If you get your boots on, you can have 2 more minutes.” You’re staggering the transition, you’re gradually pulling focus to the new activity, and you’re separating the demands into more manageable chunks.
Don’t release them back into the wild. Move your kids’ toothbrush, socks, bookbag storage, all of it to near the front door, so once you get them away from breakfast you don’t have to send them back into their room to see 25 things they need to mess with before they leave.
Make it a game. “If we get in the car before the car clock says 11am, we have time to …” “If we get this all cleaned up fast, we’ll have time for a game in the car.” “Think you can get more toys into the bin than me?” These aren’t bribes; they’re you working together for a common fun goal. Competition often helps overcome inertia, especially for kids with trouble shifting their focus.
If the same transitions are always hard
Ask for input: Talk to kids when it’s calm. Ask, “Hey, it seems like it’s been hard to get ready for tutoring. What’s up?” (Ross Greene has good ideas for doing this). Listen to their ideas—they might surprise you.
Lower the bar. Offer help with things that seem to be sticking points. More tips on lowering the bar are here.
Skip the transition. Maybe it’s less about the transition than the next activity being awful. Can you find ways to avoid that activity or make it less dreadful?
Whenever I think about transitions, I’m reminded of the 100 things I suddenly “need” to do before going for a run. I love running and know I’ll feel better within minutes, but it’s still a shift, a change of focus, and an energy demand. Will these ideas make transitions effortless? No. They’re not easy for most kids - or adults - and our kids face extra challenges. But sometimes just knowing something is meant to be hard can make it less stressful. Hopefully, these tips can help too. If not, let’s chat one-one-one about your child and family, (sign up here).
Above all, I want to acknowledge that these suggestions take energy that’s often in short supply. I know it doesn’t help to acknowledge you are pouring energy in anyway when transitions result in screaming. I know you are tired. Take what works for you here and leave the rest: we do what we can. And you got this.