Real life sensory strategies

You do not have to try ALL of these. Please don’t try all of these!

If you need something to try TODAY: Jump to our Sensory Quick Guide for immediate strategies.

If you have 5 minutes: Read "The Process" and "How to use sensory strategies" below, then pick ONE specific strategy to try.

If you just need ideas for school: Read “School support and advocacy,” towards the end of the article.

If you're ready to explore your child’s specific needs: Read the whole article. Or start with Part 1: Understanding sensory challenges.

The Process (before you try anything)

Before buying anything or changing routines, it helps to slow down and notice patterns. An OT can help you figure this out for your specific child.

Three things to ask yourself (and/or your child, if they can answer):

1. When/where are things hard?

In Music? During transitions? Before bed? In busy places? Setting can give clues to what input is problematic and when to offer support.

2. What is your child already doing? 

Jumping, chewing, hiding, pacing, refusing clothes/food? The things your child does when they have an unmet need are our best clues to what that need is. The goal is to understand what the behaviour is doing for them. If your child is running around every night at bedtime, they might need more movement beforehand.

3. Are they seeking input or trying to escape it?

Are they reaching out, running around, crashing, making noise, or craving interaction? Or, are they holing up, curling in, running away, acting annoyed or tuning others out?

Sometimes it seems backwards. A child making loud noises might be seeking sound OR trying to block out other sounds. This is why it takes some close observation across settings.

The goal: Make a best guess. Choose something that offers similar input in a safer/easier way. See below for ideas.

Sensory support comes first. Skills like coping, reflection, and communication are much easier to learn once a child’s nervous system feels safer.

How to use sensory strategies

Introducing a new strategy or tool

Pick one thing. Offer it neutrally. Prioritize autonomy, no pressure. Model using it yourself. Say: “This is something that helps some kids’ bodies feel calmer. Want to try it or not today?”

Put the tool within reach and let your child explore how to use it. Avoid hovering, coaching, or asking for immediate feedback. 

A tool is helping if your child seems more comfortable, engaged, or able to recover, not just if they look quieter or more compliant.

This is trial and error. Try tools a few different times, watch patterns over days, and check in with your child when they’re calm.

If your child hates something, don’t force it. If it increases agitation, shutdown, or the behaviours you’re trying to help in the first place, stop and reassess.

If your child needs a tool, it's a need, like eyeglasses for vision. 

You would never:

• Only let a child wear glasses as a reward for good behavior

• Take glasses away as punishment

• Shame them for needing glasses

• Force them to try to cope without them because “they have to learn”

• Give them what works for someone else without figuring out their own prescription

• Worry that if they have glasses, everyone will want them

Please don’t let anyone do those things with your child’s sensory supports either.

Be proactive and predictable

Many sensory strategies work best before a child is overwhelmed. Waiting until a meltdown or shutdown fails because the nervous system is already flooded.

A proactive approach (sometimes called a “sensory diet”) means offering predictable sensory support throughout the day, especially before known hard moments.

This doesn’t need to be rigid or complicated. Start by offering one predictable support at one predictable time (movement before school, scheduled breaks in a quiet space during the day). Offer them the strategy even if they feel regulated. Make it part of the routine, not something that’s being shoved at them once they’re struggling.

Once they’re regulated: Help kids express sensory experiences

Putting words to sensory experiences can reduce panic and confusion. When kids understand what is happening in their bodies, sensations feel less threatening and more tolerable. It also helps them solve the real problem (e.g., the heat) instead of the story they made up to explain the discomfort (“I hate math”). Naming sensations is the first step toward asking for what they need.

This only works when a child is calm enough to think. During meltdowns or shutdowns, focus on support, not language. 

Ways parents can model and teach sensory language:

• Speak out loud descriptively about your own sensory discomfort (“This light feels harsh on my eyes.” “This shirt has a rough texture.”)

• Borrow language from people with sensory differences you think might be similar to your child’s. Adults with autism and ADHD share clear, usable descriptions of sensory experiences you can find online. Tell your child, “Some people find this kind of light really hard to look at because it kind of flickers. Do you see that?”

• Validate your child’s experience with language first (“you feel hungry”), even if it is unexpected or hard to understand; problem-solve later.

A simple advocacy pattern to teach:

• I have a sensory thing (or a “noise thing”).

• X feels/is really hard for me.

• I need ___.

Specific ideas to try

These are organized by general need. You do not need to read them ALL! Choose ONE category that sounds most like your child. Try ONE thing from that section. Come back later for others.

Again, I am not an Occupational Therapist. A real OT is your best bet for finding solutions for your individual child. But I know that’s not accessible for everyone.

Scroll to read about:

• Kids who are intense, crashy, rough, or "too much"

• Kids who are restless, “space out,” or can't get started

• Kids who are anxious, exhausted, or "just done" after busy environments

• Kids who chew, suck, mouth objects, or bite

• Kids with clothing battles, food refusal, or shutdown around textures

• Kids who don’t notice hunger, thirst, fatigue, or bathroom needs until it’s urgent

• Kids overwhelmed by visual input

For kids who are intense, crashy, rough, or "too much"

Try: Proprioceptive input

Some kids need more proprioceptive input to organize and calm the nervous system, to know where their body is, and feel more grounded and secure. This means input to muscles and joints that tells the body where it is in space: basically, heavy work and deep pressure.

• Before school: carrying a heavy backpack, pushing against a wall, biking uphill, pushing a loaded stroller (if safe)

• After school: rough housing (with consent), pulling/pushing heavy furniture, carrying groceries, giving “horse” rides to a sibling

• During homework: sitting on a wobble cushion, using a resistance band on chair legs, frequent heavy movement breaks

• Before bed: tight wrap in blankets (burrito roll), “squish” with couch cushions, heavy work like push-ups against the wall or squats, 

Tools:

• Weighted lap pad or vest (these are more portable and less “trapping” than blankets)

• Big chewable jewelry or pencil toppers

• Therapy putty or stress balls with real resistance

• Compression clothing

Note: Weighted items aren't meant for all-day use, and more isn't always better.

For kids who are restless, “space out,” or can't get started

Try: Movement (vestibular input)

• Before seated work: big jumps or jumping jacks, burpees, dancing, swinging

• During focus work: bouncing on yoga ball, rocking chair, standing desk, wobble seat, lots of movement breaks

Tools:

• Yoga ball as desk chair

• Trampoline

• Swinging (linear back-and-forth, not spinning)

Note: Fast movement and spinning can be dysregulating for some kids. Start with slow, predictable, linear movement. Watch your child's response.

For kids who are anxious, exhausted, or "just done" after busy environments

Try: Less or muted sensory input 

• Headphones or earplugs in busy places

• Quiet space to decompress (no questions, no demands)

• Dim lighting, less visual clutter, 

• Avoid crowds when possible, or create a secluded space within them

• Predictable routines and a simple “It’s too much” signal to allow escape

Tools to try:

• Noise-cancelling or noise-reducing headphones

• White noise machine for sleep

• Sunglasses, hat, hoodie, umbrella

• 3-fold presentation board for privacy, corner seat or a spot facing away from the crowd

• Mesh “tent” so they can feel like they are hiding but remain visible

For kids who chew, suck, mouth objects, or bite

Some kids seek oral input because they crave that sensation. Others need stronger input to their jaw and mouth to feel grounded (this overlaps with proprioceptive needs). Either way, giving them safe ways to meet this need can prevent unsafe chewing and biting.

Try: Oral sensory input

• Chewable jewelry, pencil toppers, or dedicated chew tools

• Crunchy/chewy snacks during homework or transitions

• Drinking through straws (especially thick smoothies)

• Gum (if it’s age-appropriate and safe)

Safety note: Monitor for choking risks. Replace worn chew tools.

For kids with clothing battles, food refusal, or shutdown around textures

Try: Give them control over tactile input

• Clothing: Let them choose based on feel, not looks. Buy triplicates. Look for seamless (especially socks!), elastic waists, soft cottons. Cut out tags. Try cotton boxer briefs for the war on undies, regardless of gender.

• Food: Remember sensory-based food refusal is not about “pickiness” or control. Support means preserving predictability and safety: separate foods, avoid surprise mixing (no “hidden veggies”), respect “safe foods,” and offer new foods alongside familiar ones without pressure. Exposure without consent often increases fear and restriction.

• Touch: Again, reduce surprise and increase control. Make hugging optional. Always warn them/ask consent before touching. Respect that they experience light touch as painful, but help them understand others may not intend to hurt them. For haircuts and nail-clipping, narrate each step, allow your child to explore the tools (if safe), and use distractions if they help. Use firm, predictable pressure (e.g., on the toe itself before cutting the nail).

• Let them carry textures they DO like: fidgets, favorite blanket, specific stuffed animal (again: buy triplicates), silky handkerchief…

What NOT to do: Force exposure. "They need to get used to it" often backfires.

For kids who don’t notice hunger, thirst, fatigue, or bathroom needs until it’s urgent

Some kids genuinely don't receive clear signals from their bodies about internal states (called interoception). It's not that they're ignoring their body's needs; their nervous system isn't sending reliable messages about those needs in the first place. Many “sudden meltdowns” spring from this. 

Try:

• Scheduled body check-ins (Ask them: “food, water, bathroom, rest?”) rather than waiting for cues.  Offer snacks, washroom, water, a break on a similar schedule. Don’t force them to take what you offer though, or say “last time you had an accident, remember?”

• Visual reminders (timers, charts, routine-based prompts)

• Neutral language (“Your body might need fuel”) instead of waiting for self-report

For kids overwhelmed by visual input

Try:

• Reduced visual clutter in work areas: clear bins with lids instead of open toy boxes, solid-color folders, minimal decorations on walls. In the bedroom, rotate toys in/out of storage so fewer are visible at once.

• Solid-color backgrounds for homework and focused tasks

• Seating facing a wall, not the room, or a tri-fold presentation board to create a visual boundary at their workspace

• Lower lighting, avoid fluorescent lights when possible (they flicker imperceptibly but can be very bothersome)

• Sunglasses, hats, or hoodies when outside or in bright spaces

• Paper copies instead of screens when possible

Note: Visual schedules and charts can help some kids but overwhelm others. Watch your child's response, or bring them out only when needed.

School Support & Advocacy

Many sensory supports are low-effort, high-impact, and easy to implement at school. Here are my top five to try:

• Seating changes or sensory-friendly seating add-ons like wobble cushions or resistance bands

• Proactive/scheduled and in-the-moment big movement breaks 

• Access to a quiet space with low visual stimulation

• Flexibility on clothing expectations and rules (wearing a hat or hood, sunglasses, short sleeves in winter, elastic waist pants)

• Tools: Headphones, fidgets, compression clothing

Write strategies into formal plans. Specify when tools can be used, not just whether they’re allowed (e.g., “during independent work,” “before transitions,” “as needed without asking”). Make sure ALL the adults around your child know the tools are ACCESS SUPPORTS, not rewards.

Teach your child clear, simple language like, “I have a sensory thing. Noise is very hard for me. I need a break.” OR, give them a visual card, so they can ask for what they need even if speech fails them.

If your immediate reaction is “there’s no way the school will agree to this.” 

Read: How to project manage your school meeting for more advice on advocating and collaboration with educators.

Re-frame: Sensory supports are access tools, and your child is struggling, not “bad.”

Frame it as a general accessibility question: “What does the school do for children who are unable to participate in the music due to sensory disabilities?”

Start small: Ask for one predictable movement break, a seating change, or access to a quieter space during independent work.”  

If the school says they "tried it and it didn't work.”

Ask for data: how often was it offered, for how long, under what conditions? Can you see the observation record? What did your child report? Most sensory strategies need consistent implementation over time, not a one-day trial.

“But if your child has headphones, everyone in the class will want them.” 

This is simply untrue. Kids use tools if they need them. If every child in the class is really asking for a certain sensory tool, there’s something in the environment making it hard for every child.

Please seek professional help if:

• Sensory distress is escalating

• Daily routines (school, sleep, eating) are completely breaking down

• Tools are making things worse

• You have safety concerns (self-injury, aggression, risky behaviours)

• You're constantly firefighting

An occupational therapist looks at how sensory processing, nervous system regulation, and environment interact. The goal isn’t to force kids to tolerate discomfort, but to reduce distress and build skills for recognizing and advocating for needs.

Look for pediatric OTs with experience in sensory integration and neurodiversity-affirming practice. You want someone who asks "how can we support this?" not "how do we make them act normal?"

This is detective work. Your child is already trying to tell you what they need through what they seek, what they avoid, and what they do when they’re overwhelmed. You're learning to listen in a new way.

And if you need help figuring it out, let's talk. Schedule a one-on-one consultation.

Start at the beginning: Understanding Sensory.

Find another article.

Communication: Real life strategies for your real life child

Now that you understand what might be happening – which steps are breaking down and what might be making it hard (see Part 1: Understanding Communication), here are some practical strategies that reduce pressure, support the steps that are difficult, and give your child other ways to be heard.

Start Here:

• For how to help a child in crisis or meltdown: Jump to “Crisis Response”

• If you need one thing to change today: Make it "Take away the pressure to talk" (see below)

• If you're ready to build support: Read on for “Immediate Strategies”

• Questions? Join our webinar on Communication Challenges.

Immediate Strategies

First, get their hearing checked. Even if tests are “normal,” are they straining to hear or process auditory input? This is a big piece for some kids. Then try a few of these:

1. Take away the pressure to talk

The single biggest thing you can do is stop trying to force speech when it's not available.

"Use your words" is torture when words aren't working. Imagine you're in the middle of a panic attack or crying so hard you can't catch your breath, and someone tells you to "calm down and use your words” (insert frustrated growl here). That's what it feels like for a child whose communication system is overwhelmed. The pressure to speak makes it harder, not easier.

Even for kids who are usually articulate, saying "spit it out" or "just tell me" adds pressure. Try “Take your time, I’m here” instead.

Give them other ways to communicate. This is where AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) comes in.

What you need to know:

1. AAC is not just fancy iPads. It’s offering children additional ways to communicate for when talking is too much, and it takes many different forms.

2. AAC doesn't prevent speech, and it doesn’t mean your child will never talk. Studies show that when you give kids alternative ways to communicate and remove the pressure to speak, they're MORE likely to use speech when they can, not less.

3. AAC isn't just for kids who can't speak at all. It's for anyone who struggles with verbal communication in any context: the kid who loses speech when stressed, the kid whose mouth won't cooperate even though their brain knows what to say.

4. Some kids initially resist pictures or other AAC because it feels “babyish” or different. Offer choices, and let them see it works.

Options include:

• Visual communication cards - pictures or words they can point to for common needs ("break," "help," "bathroom," feelings, common frustrations like “someone took my toy”)

• Pointing to choices - give photo or icon options so they can point or exchange a picture for what they need. Start with just 2-3.

• Writing or texting - for tough conversations with older kids, sometimes it’s easier to be able to process the information or emotions, think about what to say, then draft and revise a text.

• Simple sign language - a few key signs for immediate needs (this is nice even if a child can talk, so they can communicate “I need a break” for example without interrupting the conversation)

• AAC apps or devices - don't overwhelm yourself with options; your Speech-Language Pathologist can help figure out what fits

2. Give Them TIME

Wait time might be the single most helpful tool you can try.

Say what you need to. Then count to 10 slowly in your head. Actually slowly. "One... two... three..." Don't repeat the question. Don't rephrase. Don't fill the silence. Just wait expectantly, like you know they're working on it and you have all the time in the world.

Yes, there might be people in line behind you at the ice cream shop. They'll be fine. Your child's ability to process and communicate is more important than strangers' convenience.

Separate the steps. Give them the information, then WAIT, then ask the question. "We're going to Grandma's house this afternoon." [Pause] "Do you want to bring your trucks or your art supplies?"

Or give advance notice: "At snack time, I hope to hear about your birthday ideas." This lets them start organizing their thoughts before they need to answer.

This is a great IEP accommodation: the teacher can tell your child privately what question they'll be asked during circle time, so they can be ready when it's their turn.

Slow down your own speech. Pause before you speak. Pause after. Take a breath between sentences. You're modeling the rhythm you want them to have, and you're also giving them more processing time.

Make sure you're actually listening when they ARE ready to talk. Stop what you're doing. Make eye contact. Give them your full attention. Ask, "Anything else you need to say?" and then WAIT.

Don't let siblings answer for them. Don't finish their sentences. Don't rush them along.

Some kids need to talk things out to process before they can give you their real answer. Let them ramble, repeat, work through it aloud, then agree on an answer.

Written notes give everyone processing time, and remove the pressure of immediate response.. Try text, email, a shared journal, bathroom mirror post-it notes.

3. Reduce What They Have to Process

Remember all those steps from Part 1? Make each one easier.

Make sure their attention is on you. Don’t call out from the kitchen, talk while they’re Minecrafting, or drop directions into the middle of other stories. Stop, get down to their level. Don’t force eye contact, but wait until you know they’re with you. If you have to interrupt something fun, say, “I need 30 seconds, and then you can go back to the game.”

Use fewer words, fewer options, fewer steps. Instead of "Can you go upstairs, brush your teeth, put on your pajamas, and get into bed?" try one thing at a time. Or hang up a visual list of the routine for them to check one thing at a time, no speech needed.

Instead of "What do you want for dinner?" with infinite options, try "Pasta or chicken?" Point to two actual choices if that helps.

Use simple, concrete language. "The bus comes soon" is clearer than "We need to hustle or we'll miss our ride."

Block out the noise and chaos. The world is loud and visually overwhelming. Headphones can help filter sensory input; even if your child doesn't seem bothered by noise, they might make it easier to process what you're saying. Find quiet spaces for important conversations. Dim the lights if you can. Have one person talk to them at a time instead of multiple adults giving directions. This is especially important if they’re getting overwhelmed.

Don't add information or rephrase while they're processing. This is huge. Adults ask, "What do you want for lunch?" When they haven't answered in two seconds, we add: "We have sandwich stuff, or there's leftover pizza, or I could make mac and cheese, what sounds good?" Now they have to process all that new information and they've lost track of where they were in answering the first question.

If you need to prompt, AFTER waiting those 10 seconds, simply repeat the original question. "What do you want for lunch?" Better yet, start with only two choices: “It’s lunchtime. Pizza or sandwiches?”

Give them information in multiple ways. Speech disappears the moment it's spoken. Add a visual, something written, a gesture, a model of what you want. For directions, show them the list so they can check back. For schedules, use a visual schedule with pictures. For choices, point to the actual items. You're not doing this because they're not smart enough to understand words. You're doing it because multiple inputs make it easier for everyone’s brain to process and hold on to information.

4. Model the Language They Need

Kids learn communication by watching and practicing, so make sure you are modelling.

Give them scripts for tricky situations. Work together to come up with specific phrases they can memorize for common challenges. Practice: "I need help," “I need a break,” and “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” so they can access them automatically when needed. 

Practice these when they're calm, not in the moment. Make it silly if that helps. Use stuffed animals. Role-play.

Then make sure the adults around them know what to listen for.

Think aloud your own processes. Let them hear how you process and label your own emotions:

• "Hmm. So many flavors. I want something fruity, so that's strawberry or peach... I think peach. Peach, please."

• "Okay, we need to bring the backpacks, keys, and snacks. Backpacks, keys, snacks. Backpack, keys, snacks. Got it."

• "I am so frustrated right now! I need a minute before I answer."

Practice conversation skills in low-pressure contexts. Games with clear rules reduce uncertainty and make communication less fraught. Turn-taking games teach the rhythm of back-and-forth without high stakes. Table top role-playing games give them scripts and structure to practice social interaction. Dinner is a great time to practice with "Everyone share your favorite..." or other structured conversation. We played a lot of “Two Truths and a Lie” about our day, which has listening, remembering, organizing what you want to say, and reading nonverbal cues.

Crisis Response: During Communication Breakdown or Meltdown

When your child is completely overwhelmed and communication has broken down entirely, here's what to try:

Reduce ALL demands immediately. Stop asking questions. Stop giving directions. Stop trying to fix it or figure it out. Their system is flooded: more input just makes it worse.

Offer alternative communication. Hold up a communication card so they can point. Ask yes/no questions they can nod or shake their head to. You're looking for any way they can tell you what they need without requiring speech. I kept laminated pictures of break/regulation strategies on a carabiner in my classroom. When a child was struggling, I'd show them three choices and let them point.

Stay calm yourself. Breathe. Ignore the bystanders you’re worried are judging. Use minimal words: "I'm here." "You're safe." "Take your time." That's it.

Give them space if they need it. Some kids need to be left alone to regulate. Some need your presence but not your words. Pay attention to what your child needs. Get school to understand and pay attention too (sometimes when a kid is escalated, schools call in EVERYONE, and it backfires wildly).

Circle back later. When they've regulated (much later, maybe the next day) you can revisit: "Earlier you seemed really frustrated. Want to tell me about it?" No pressure if they still can't or don't want to. You're showing them you care and you're available when they're ready.

What NOT to Do

Skip the "Sneaky English Lessons"

When your child is struggling, the goal is communication, not perfection. Do not:

Constantly correct their grammar or pronunciation. Every correction is a message that they're doing it wrong, that communication is a test, that you're focused on form over content. Save the grammar lessons for calm teaching moments, not real communication.

Turn every interaction into a teaching or practice opportunity. Sometimes your child just needs to tell you something or ask for something. Let them communicate without it becoming a lesson about how to do it better. Sometimes they just want to build Lego quietly with you without having to answer questions or name colors. Sometimes they just want to share their excitement about a special interest with grandma, and they just need grandma to listen without you jumping in because you’re worried they’re “monologuing.”

Require "proper" language when they're struggling. If your child is upset and says "I no want it," you understood them. Don't withhold help until they say it "correctly." If they’ve been melting down daily, but today they yell “I NEED A BREAK!” that’s awesome. Meet them where they are.

Don’t assume they can’t understand because they don’t speak.

I have met many, many kids, even young preschoolers, who were non-speaking, but who understood everything that was said to or around them, even when they didn’t respond. Please don’t assume that because a child isn’t responding or doing what you’ve asked that they aren’t understanding all the adults talking around and especially about them. It doesn’t help anyone’s communication to have to listen to Aunt Judith complain about them. Remember this also at the doctor or therapist’s office: it’s okay to ask to discuss your child’s struggles without them having to sit through it.

Getting the Right Support

Sometimes you need professional help. 

Speech-Language Pathologists (SLPs) work on receptive language (understanding), expressive language (formulating and expressing thoughts), pragmatic/social communication, word retrieval, articulation, and more. If your child is struggling with communication, an evaluation can help identify exactly where things are breaking down. Ask for an SLP who has experience with your child's specific challenges (autism, ADHD, apraxia, whatever's relevant).

You can request evaluations through your school district even if your child doesn't have a formal diagnosis. This is free, and it's your right under most special education law.

Social skills programs: know what to look for. Red flags: ABA-style or behaviour-centered approaches that focus on compliance or "acting normal" rather than teaching skills. Green flags: programs that teach genuine communication strategies, respect neurodivergent communication styles, and address what YOUR child actually struggles with (meaning at your child’s real level of communication, not just generic "social skills"). Ask what their approach is, what they're actually teaching, and how they measure success.

School accommodations that can help. Put specific accommodations in an IEP or 504 plan so they're official:

• Wait time

• Visual schedules and routines

• Group directions repeated to your child individually

• Extra processing time for questions and assignments

• Advance notice for questions they'll be asked (no cold-calling)

• Alternative ways to demonstrate knowledge (written instead of verbal presentations, typed instead of handwritten, verbal answers “scribed” by an adult)

• Reduced language load for instructions (shorter, fewer steps, simpler language, offer visual supports)

• Access to AAC or communication supports, especially when they’re upset (write those regulation cards or “need a break” signs into the plan)

• Quiet space for communication-heavy tasks

• Frequent breaks during language-heavy activities

Remember

You don't have to do everything at once! Start with one or two strategies that feel most relevant to what your child struggles with. Small changes can make a real difference, and the most important thing is that your child knows that you know they are trying, and you’re there to help.

Want more background? Go back to Part 1: Understanding Communication.

Want ideas and advice geared towards your individual child? We offer free, one-on-one consultation. Find out more.

Find another article.

ADHD: Real Life Strategies for Your Real Life Child

[Read Part 1: Understanding ADHD is here]

[TL;DR? See our ADHD Quick Guide: 5 things to know, look for, and try]

These strategies aren’t about “fixing” your kid. ADHD is part of who they are. They’re about making the hard parts easier, so their own amazingness can show up more often.

You don't need to do ALL of this. Pick what feels most urgent or most doable, start there, and know that we're here to help.

Strategies to Support the Brain

Medication

I don’t usually advocate hard for given strategies. And I'm not a doctor. But Edward Hallowell is, and he said:

"Opting not to even try medication [for ADHD] is like saying to your eye doctor, 'Let's try a year of squinting before we try eyeglasses.'" 

(ADDitude Magazine, Fall 2024. ADDitude is a good place to read very general info about ADHD, and this series on meds was interesting.)

I understand that ADHD medication isn’t for everyone. It doesn’t even work for some percentage of the population. Just make sure you are skipping it for solid, informed reasons like medical contraindications, careful consideration with your doctor, or trying other evidence-based approaches first, and not because of anecdotes or myths.

Common myths to ignore: 

• Meds won't lead to addiction (possibly the opposite, in fact). 

• Meds won't change who they are. In fact, it may allow them to be more present as themselves and bring out their strengths. As one mom told me, "I was worried it would blunt his personality, but it's letting his real self shine so much more.” If your child feels “flat,” talk to the doctor and find something else to try.

• These aren’t new drugs for which we don’t know the long term effects on the brain. 

Truths: Finding the right medication takes trial and error. Some are stimulants, some are not; both can work. There are time-release options and single dose ones. Getting your kid to take meds can ruin the whole morning.

It is absolutely okay to set up your child’s meds based on what is likely to actually happen in your real life (if they take the meds better at school, but give you a hard time at home, great, do that). It is also okay to make sure the effects of the meds extend past the school day, so the evenings at home aren’t a nightmare for everyone.

Regardless of how well meds work, they should only be PART of your plan, and many of the below strategies are as evidenced-based as some meds.

Lifestyle

Movement

Getting the wiggles out isn't a myth. Exercise and movement have been proven to help with many ADHD symptoms.

What helps:

• Physical activity (moderate-to-vigorous, 20-30 minutes daily)

• Movement breaks throughout the day, not just at recess

• Activities that require coordination and focus (martial arts, dance, climbing)

• Short bursts of big, fast, or heavy push movements to reset focus: jumping jacks between math problems, race to the school door, trampoline before bedtime, swings, rowing machine, giving a sibling a “horsey ride”

• Fidget chairs, wiggle seats, standing desks. These aren’t just to get the jumpies out; many kids need a little movement to be able to focus. Let them do laps or jiggle their legs while they read.

Sleep

Sleep is HUGE. Sleep problems are both a symptom of ADHD and make ADHD harder. Again, talk to your doctor, and if your doctor isn’t interested, talk to a sleep specialist. Dr. Craig Canapari has excellent information on this.

Get them off the screens

It’s so hard. I know. And also, there’s growing evidence that more screen time correlates with worsened ADHD symptoms, especially impulsivity. Not just that awful transition when it’s time to turn them off, but throughout the rest of the day. At the very least, silo it into designated times (we are not ”just real quick checking something” all day long), and don’t let it happen before school.

Inspiration: my own young adult child recently THANKED ME for all the screen time limits I had when they were younger, even though at the time I was apparently the worstest, most tyrannical mom ever.

Nutrition

Despite what’s online, there's little scientific evidence that specific diets or supplements significantly help ADHD. The exception might be omega-3 fatty acids (fish oil), which show possible modest benefits in some studies.

What matters:

• Consistent meals (hunger can make ADHD worse)

• Protein, especially at breakfast (not just for kids with ADHD)

• Limiting sugar spikes and crashes

Nature

This one isn't just "it's nice to get outside." Time in nature has been proven to mitigate ADHD symptoms. Get them outside in as much nature as you can find, every day, even in winter.

Shape the Environment or Task

As always, our best line of support is adapting the environment or the task that is overwhelming the child. They’re trying their hardest, so if it’s not working, it’s not them that needs to change. Most of these strategies are totally appropriate to ask for at school (I have used all of them in classrooms, so it’s possible).

Reduce the Load

When it feels like too much, it probably is.

Ways to reduce the load (more ideas here):

• Prioritize what actually matters. Choose your moments of correction, your activities, their obligations.

• Simplify routines: eliminate steps, make it easier for them.

• Give them extra time, “buffer” time in case things take longer, wait time to process directions

• Reduce the number of decisions they need to make, especially at known hard times. Offer fewer choices for everything from outfits to snacks to camps.

• Do some things for them, for now. Not giving in and grumpily tying the shoes, but asking, without judgement, “Would it be easier if I tied your shoes?” 

• Let some things go entirely. Drop some battles. You can always come back to them.

Externalize the Executive Function They Don't Have

Your child's brain doesn’t hold or process information like a neurotypical brain. Store the information outside their brain. Then help them use and manage the systems.

• Make it visible (visual timers and schedules, post-it notes on the mirror or the door, laminated checklists of steps they need to take, posted routines). In general, it’s great to give kids information verbally and visually (visuals don’t disappear, so they can check back if they didn’t get everything).

• Use organizational frameworks (calendars, assignment planners, mind maps, fill-in-the-blanks outlines for writing assignments, giant white boards or chart paper to capture their nonlinear thoughts, mnemonic devices, note-taking systems)

• Make it easy to capture so they don’t try to just remember (voice memos, reminders app, “hey siri,” white board near the door, keychain notepad and pen on the backpack). 

Lend them someone else’s executive function

Sometimes the accommodation is another person: you, another adult, a tutor, a sibling…

• Body doubling (someone else present and focused on their own work)

• Buddy system for remembering things (an older child asking “do you have your lunch?” every day on the way to the bus)

• A sidekick for difficult situations, so they have someone they trust. We all hate going to rooms full of strangers alone, and anxiety is no friend to self-regulation.

Model the skills you’re hoping they will learn, speaking your own thoughts aloud. Even better, do these things WITH them, asking the questions and letting them shape the plan. 

• Work backwards from the end goal to create a project plan and/or timeline

• Break the plan into small steps and decide what to do first

• Create mini-deadlines in extended projects, if they need urgency for focus

• Gather the materials and set up the workspace

• Have a system to review that you have everything before leaving the house (my kids got tired of my “Got my coat, got my hat…” song)

• Have a joint weekly planning session for homework and life

• Give them scripts for difficult situations, so your thoughtful scripts become the impulse instead of something less helpful

Set Up the Physical Space

• Arrange things they need so they make a trail to where you want them to go (toothbrush in the washroom near the door so they don’t have to go back upstairs, shoes before coats before hook with the backpack); then, at the end of the day, they can walk the trail backwards replacing them.

• Backpacks with lots of pockets so things have a special place, including one pocket labelled “CHECK ME.”

• Label and/or color code drawers, bins, hooks, and shelves, with pictures if needed. Works also for binders, files, and assignment sheets.

• Use bigger bins, divided into broader categories. Let them decide the categories.

• Designate "okay to be cluttered" spaces. Some kids feel safer in clutter (mine, sigh).

Create a focus space.

• Reduce visual distractions, remove extraneous items

• Seat them away from high-traffic areas, use dividers or folding presentations boards for privacy

• Offer special seating so they can move while they work (wobble stools, exercise balls, standing desks, wiggle cushions, physioband around the legs of the chair to kick at)

• Make it quiet, use white noise, or offer headphones. OR, play music or coffee shop noise, which helps some kids focus

• Use parental controls to turn off enticing websites and apps

Get Them Started

Starting is often the hardest part. Lower the barrier to entry:

• Let them do the easiest or most interesting part first

• Hide most of the overwhelming project or assignment, so they can focus on the first step. Cut worksheets into strips, so they only have to see a handful of problems at a time.

• Use three dice to determine how long they will sit down and work for. Pretend to be disappointed when they “only” sit down for 7 minutes to do something they were fighting about doing at all. After a break, roll again.

• Ask them to talk out what they want to write about, record or type what they say, then show them they already started.

• For some kids (mine), all the breaking tasks up just stresses them out that they are going to have to do this thing they don’t want to do every day until the end of time. They do better being sent off with a pressing deadline.

Build Connection and Agency

Don’t ignore the social-emotional struggles 

ADHD makes social interactions harder; kids miss subtle cues, interrupt, get stuck on topics, or blurt impulsive things they immediately regret. The accumulation of social missteps and being told you're 'too much' can damage self-esteem and increase social anxiety. Add in rejection sensitivity, emotional intensity, and dysregulation, and a history of being corrected or shamed, and it’s essential to address the social-emotional piece.

Teach them social-emotional strategies

• Use social stories to practice tricky situations. Make stuffed friends go to Aunt Linda’s. Make the Lego guy accidentally knock a friend’s tower over and apologize. Use books. It’s easier to talk about these situations when they aren’t really you.

• Labeling emotions goes a long way to being able to regulate them, and labeling struggles is the first step to self-advocacy. Help them. “You seem like you’re feeling fidgety in your body.” “Oh, you must be so FRUSTRATED.” “Sometimes at school, kids feel like everyone’s staring at them.” 

It’s great, especially, if you have some of their same struggles and can articulate that: “This work project is big! I’m having that IT’S TOO MUCH overwhelmed feeling.” 

• Use frameworks for managing feelings. I like Zones of Regulation, because it doesn’t label feelings as “bad,” and it doesn’t only focus on anger.

• Teach them self-regulation skills (breathing practices, mindfulness, self-talk scripts, diverting the frantic energy elsewhere)

Be the soft landing sometimes.

• It’s easy to feel like they’re making mistakes in super frustrating ways ALL the time, especially if you’re exhausted and you come home from work to blueberry sauce on the cat. Try to choose your battles, live with some things, and set boundaries to eliminate things you really can’t tolerate that you want to stop scolding them about.

• Share in their favorite activities, in the way they want you to, without trying to teach them anything or get them to talk or make them use the toys the right way. Just sit quietly with them and tear the paper into bits, if that’s what they’re doing. Be their break from people trying to fix them.

• Catch them trying, or doing well, and describe what you see, even if it’s something you think they “should” be able to do easily

• Celebrate the ways you yourself are “different,” especially if they’re something you share

• Tell them you know they are trying their hardest, you have their back, and when things go south, it’s because they need more support, not that they’re a failure. 

Get Their Input

"Every teacher wants to break down the task for me, but I have my own process, and they never break it down the way I would."

Set up the notebook, the space, the project how THEY think it should go. Ask questions to get them to make the plan instead of doing it for them.

They’re going to create plans that seem doomed. Let them. They’ll be surprise successes or learning experiences.

Ask THEM what the hard parts are. Ask what they need. Give them practice asking for accommodations or assistance. You're modeling that they deserve support, and teaching them to advocate for themselves.

Get professional help.

Therapists for emotional regulation and rejection sensitivity. Occupational therapists for daily living skills. ADHD coaches for organization and more. 

Someone besides you to teach the skills and hold them to the plan, so sometimes you can just be their parent.

Don't Do All of This!!

Don’t even try. Being too exhausted to parent is not going to help anyone’s ADHD.

Start with one or two things that feel most pressing or doable: a visual timer, calling the doctor about medication, letting go of nightly homework completion.

You don't have to do this alone. That's what The Huddle for Families is here for: to help you figure out what your child needs, connect you with other families who understand, and remind you that needing help isn't failing, for your child or for you. Find a time to talk to me 1:1 if you need it.

You've got this. 

When it’s already hard: Triage for the first month of school

It’s only September, and you already have that lump in your stomach. Maybe nothing’s happened, but your child is barely holding it together.  Maybe they’ve already been sent out of class so often they have a “usual spot.” 

The process of getting support can be slow: request the meeting, schedule it, wait for the team, follow up, wait some more. Meanwhile, you’re sending your child every day, knowing they’re struggling and likely to fail. It’s heart-breaking, and it feels like all you can do is give them pep talks and beg.

That’s not all you can do. Here are some things you and your child’s teacher can try right away.

1. Start from empathy

Everyone (you, the school, the bus driver) needs to start here: your child is trying as hard as they can. Behaviour that’s frustrating, disruptive, uncomfortable, or even violent is a sign they’re overwhelmed or under-supported. They’re not bad. They don’t need a motivational speech, a bigger punishment, or a sticker chart from 1993. If they could please every adult in their life and never end up sweaty and teary in the office, they would. They are suffering and they need help.

If your child’s teacher or school doesn’t understand that no child in the world wakes up excited to frustrate their teachers, alienate their peers, and be yelled at by 11am, educate them. A quick step: share our articles It’s Not About the Behaviour or When a Child Can’t Swim We Don’t Punish Them for Struggling.*

2. Ask your child what’s making it hard

Not “Why did you do that?!” but “Seems like line time is harder this year. What’s different?” Approach them when they’re calm. Bring a curious (not judgmental) attitude, and listen without disagreeing or trying to convince them they’re wrong or at fault. 

They may not know. Even so, you’re modelling how to name struggles and ask for what they need. Offer some ideas: “Some kids struggle in line because it’s loud or they hate not being first. Thoughts?” 

They may say something implausible. Listen anyway; say, “Let me understand” and repeat what they’ve said. Or they might give you a totally solvable problem. Whatever the answer, you can ask them what might help, and do your best to make it happen, or to at least support the need behind their ideas.

3. Try some tools

Give them something they can use tomorrow to make things easier. 

Try 1-2 of these: noise-cancelling headphones or earplugs, a weighted vest or neck pillow full of rice, an ice pack, a water bottle, a different seat, a band around their chair legs to bounce their feet on, a place next to the teacher to sit during circle, fidget toys, communication cards, extra snacks, sunglasses, a hoodie to block out some stimuli, pre-scheduled break times to “get a drink” or some other mini-escape, or a small comfort item from home tucked into their backpack. 

If you’re not sure what will work, ask your child.

Make sure the teacher knows these are coming and your child knows how they are to be used. 

“But everyone will want one!” No. This is either untrue (kids use tools they need) or it’s true and something in the classroom needs work because every child is struggling in the same way.

4. Make the day predictable

Knowing what is going to happen goes a long way to calming our nervous systems. Create clear, visual schedules and routines. Have someone review the schedule with the child each morning. Make it accessible: a card taped to their desk, a checklist in their notebook, or wall pockets with picture cards..

Create visual or written directions for repeated tasks (“Arrival at school: Hang up coat, Turn in homework, etc.”). These can be printed and laminated as checklists or posters.

You can help by making the AM routine as predictable as possible (I know, bwahaha. We do what we can) and by creating a simple afterschool routine that can happen daily or near daily. 

5. Offer an escape that’s not punishment

Too often, the “break” space is in the same office where you get sent for being “bad.” Work with the school to find somewhere children can go that doesn’t feel like punishment. A quiet space with a few tools, no audience, maybe a timer. Could be a reading nook, a resource room, or the library. 

If the school says they don’t have a place like that? They do.

6. Give them a simple way to ask

When a child (or adult) is upset, they can’t always find words. Give them code phrases, visual cards, or short scripts like “I need a break” that they can practice and then hopefully access when overwhelmed. With younger kids, I’ve used picture cards (quiet space, water fountain, playdough) that kids can show me or I can offer when they seem to be struggling. One great teacher gave my kid two Hot Wheels cars; when they needed a break, they silently handed one over and went to their spot. The fewer words a child has to find or process in the moment, the better.

Make sure all the adults know this plan, and practice at home if it’s a phrase, so when your child asks in this way for what they need, it works.

7. Fast track the teacher relationship

Every child, but especially kids who struggle, needs to feel like their teacher understands them and accepts them as they are. In September, this isn’t built yet, so it might require shortcuts. That might mean a private joke, a secret handshake, or ten minutes talking about their favourite game. It might mean asking the teacher to spend an extra ten minutes before or after school just having fun together. It definitely means making sure the teacher understands and shows them, “I know you’re trying as hard as you can, and I don’t think you’re a monster.”

When they mess up, they need proof the relationship is still intact and a warm welcome back, and the follow up needs to be focused on repair, not rehashing. But this can only happen if the relationship is there.

8. Get everyone on the same page

Your child can have an amazing homeroom teacher and then get set off every day at lunch. Every adult who works with your child needs to be equipped to help. Try a quick “student snapshot.” We have a free one-page template you can fill in and share. That way, the recess monitor isn’t unintentionally making things harder. 

9. Create a soft landing

School takes everything they’ve got. Give them a buffer before they face the demands of home or activities, even the fun ones. That could be splashing in a fountain, running in the park, or zoning out in the car with Minecraft. Definitely snacks. 

Don’t launch into “what the teacher said” before they’ve had time to reset. Trust me: they already know you are disappointed and stressed. Make sure they also know you are on their side. Tell them, “I know it’s hard. I know you’re trying. You don’t have to figure this out alone.”

This isn’t the time to push new skills at home. Let them use home to rest and gather energy for school.

10. Take the biggest stressor off the table (for now)

If Music is falling apart twice a week, it’s not helpful (or fair) to keep sending them while you wait for a plan. It’s draining their energy and setting them up for more meltdowns everywhere else.

Let them spend that time in the library, helping in a younger class, or leaving early. It’s not forever. It’s taking one hard thing off their plate so they can have more good moments the rest of the week.

None of these is a magic fix. But they might slow things down, so you can all breathe, regroup, and figure out a plan. And if you really feel like you’re doing this alone, book a 1:1 call, and let us help.

Find another article.

* Ross Greene’s book Lost and Found is great for this, and also talks about including kids in conversations about what might be making it hard.

Summer Survival Kit, Part 3: Your Game Plan for Outings

[Read: Summer Survival, Part 1: It might be sensory] 

[Read: Summer Survival, Part 2: Defying the Rules of Summer Parenting]

Ah, summer family outings. Matching beach outfits at golden hour, cousins giggling over friendship bracelets at the reunion, everyone smiling at the zoo in shorts that still fit.

And then reality. Your four-year-old is screaming on the floor of the Reptile Room. The teenager is feral. You just spent $100 on amusement park tickets and left 20 minutes in because it "smelled weird."

No more. 2025 is the summer of realistic adventures for our real kids, planned around their actual needs, not someone else’s idea of what it should look like.

We are not going on family bonding hikes. It’s a million degrees and my kid only wears plastic knock-off Birkenstocks. We are not planning stock photo beach days or picturing all of us screaming in joy on the rollercoaster. We are piling into the car with Pop-Tarts as soon as they wake up, before the sun is strong enough to need sunscreen, jumping in the lake for 20 minutes, and coming home while it’s still fun.

We are redefining success. Not as perfection or other people’s Instagram feeds. Just fun, safety, and connection. Small wins, realistic expectations, and memories that don’t require emotional triage afterward.

Here are some ideas for making that happen:

Anticipate the Sticky Bits

What’s likely to be hard for your child? Think the outing through from their point of view. What will they see, hear, feel, be expected to do, or tolerate? At a baseball game: they have to walk in a crowd, stay near you, sit very close to lots of strangers, endure stadium noise and heat, and handle disappointment over not getting ALL the treats and not being allowed to ride the merry-go-round so many times the ice cream makes a re-appearance. They might not catch a ball, but their brother might, and he doesn’t have to give it to them.

What will help? If they fall apart when hungry, don’t just bring snacks, bring redundant snacks. If noise is the enemy, pack headphones, find a quiet space, plan breaks. If they hate crowds, get creative: headphones, piggyback rides, umbrellas-as-barriers, turning the crowd into a video game where you're dodging NPCs. If you know they’ll get bored, bring 4 fun toys (preferably ones they don’t see every day) and dole one out every 30 minutes. Bring an audiobook, a hand-held fan, whatever it takes.

Know the landmines, and design the detours.

If the odds of success are low, can you leave early? Recruit an older cousin to take them somewhere better? Create their own side adventure? Build a wedding tablecloth fort under the table with Legos and snacks?

You’re not jinxing the day by preparing for what might go wrong. You’re giving your kids (and yourself) a better chance to enjoy it.

Prepare your child 

“We’re going to a baseball game!” doesn’t help them know what to expect.

Paint them a picture. Tell them:

• Where they’ll sit

• What they’ll eat (and not eat)

• How long it’ll last

• What they’ll be expected to do or tolerate

• What the limits are

Use visuals: Street View. Camp websites. Photos. Being able to visualize the outing can help with anxiety.
Use play to practice: Pretend outings with stuffed animals. Social stories describing the steps of the adventure and what the child will do on each. Hold the Waiting in Line Olympics at home. You have time for maybe one of these, I know, so do what you can.

Let them make choices: What to wear, what to pack, which snack goes in first. Feeling a little in control goes a long way

Help them have a plan for if things get hard. 

• Who can they talk to? 

• What will they say?

• Where can they go for a break?

• What “secret word” can they use to signal they’re starting to unravel?

"Aunt Jessie’s house might be loud and crowded. If you need a break, just say 'beanbag' and we’ll head to her office with the comfy chair."

If you can get them to help make the plan, all the better.

Equip the grownups

Camp counselors, babysitters, and theme park employees might never have met your kid. Some of them were born in 2010.

You can’t assume they’ll know what your child needs. But they can still help, if you equip them:

• Describe your child’s need with empathy: "Sarah has sensory issues. Heat can feel like actual pain."

• Tell them what to look for: "She might seem cranky or defiant when really she’s overheating."

• Tell what what to do about it: "She has a cooling towel and ice pack in her bag, and an invitation to the AC in the art room when she needs it."

• Tell them what to say: “Tell her, ‘Looks like you’re feeling overwhelmed. Want to take a break in the art room?’”

Don’t expect 17-year-olds to wing it. Give them a one-page cheat sheet. Let them read off a handwritten card.

Ask for accommodations, without apology 

Asking for help can stir up feelings. Maybe you’re embarrassed about standing out. Maybe you wonder if your child “deserves” accommodations or if they’re “disabled enough” to qualify. Maybe you worry they are.

But it shouldn’t be more embarrassing to ask for accommodations than it is to design a space that leaves out half the kids who might show up.

Accommodations aren’t special favors or charity. They’re re-shaping flawed spaces, so children feel included, comfortable, and successful.

You shouldn’t need a diagnosis or to reveal any personal or medical or mental health info to ask. You just need to need something. 

You’re not trying to raise a kid who can handle fireworks and rollercoaster lines without help. You’re trying to raise a kid who knows what they need, that their needs matter, and that no matter those needs, they belong.

What to look for:

• Skip-the-line passes or early entry at amusement parks, sports venues, and museums 

• Quiet rooms or sensory-friendly zones in big venues (theaters, sports arenas, some malls).

• Special showings like sensory-friendly movies or neurodivergence-friendly events.

• Quiet tables or early food service at restaurants to avoid hangry meltdowns.

• Air-conditioned “cool down” spots at fairs or festivals.

Call or check the website before you go. Ask a staff member. If something isn’t working in the moment, speak up:

• “We need to move to a quieter table.”

• “Where can my child take a break?”

• “We’d like to enter early to avoid the crowd.”

• “What are options for your disabled clients?” 

If the first person doesn’t know, you are not being That Mom™ if you gently escalate until you reach someone with decision-making authority. That person should have made sure their staff were set up for this already.

The 75% Rule

This comes from a very wise Huddle volunteer: If 75% of it works, it’s a raging success. Focus on the great things, and don’t let the negatives take over the memory.

Plan for 75% of what you think your child can handle. Plan short visits. Bring more support than you need. Leave while you’re still winning. Build in a celebratory exit.

"We came, we saw the monkeys and the tigers, we got ice cream" beats "We experienced the monkeys, the tigers, every other animal, the floor of the reptile house, and an epic meltdown over dippin’ dots."

On the way home, name what went right:

• “You asked for a break when it got loud.” Use this to reinforce how great it is to ask for help in appropriate ways before they fall apart.

• “You handled the line like a champ.” Because sometimes it’s hard AND they can get through it, which is also good to remember.

• “What were the good parts/most fun parts?” So they aren’t focused on not getting those dippin’ dots.

They’ll remember what you highlight.

Re-envision the summer adventure

Some trips will be gorgeous. Some will be weird. Some will be 23 minutes long and end in a meltdown at the splash pad. And some will end with your child sprinting gleefully away from the family photo towards the street, chased by your Aunt Linda (thank you, Aunt Linda).

That doesn’t mean you did it wrong.

Success is showing up with a plan that fits your kid, creating space where they can be fully themselves, and finding the fun, safety, and connection inside the chaos.

Real summer isn’t a highlight reel. It’s sticky, funny, loud, and beautiful. Just like our kids.

Want more like this? Join our newsletter. No spam, no sales, no fluff. Just real talk, ideas, and advice, delivered monthly.

Want to talk through how to set your child up for success on vacation or at camp? Sign up for a 1:1 call, problem solve with me, and leave with a plan. It’s free and confidential.

[Read: Summer Survival, Part 1: It might be sensory] 

[Read: Summer Survival, Part 2: Defying the Rules of Summer Parenting]

Anxiety, part 3: How to help your child during a panic attack

[Part 1: Understanding your child’s anxiety so you don’t make it worse]

[Part 2: How to help your real life anxious child]

First, you need to know: When a child is panicking, it doesn’t always look like tears and fast breathing. It can look like defiance, rudeness, aggression, or ignoring you. They might scream, hit, shake, run away, or yell orders. Panic is scary, especially for the child experiencing it, but it doesn’t always look like panic. It looks like a child doing whatever they can to get help or get out of a situation, because they truly believe they are in danger. They are trying to survive.

So when it’s happening, your job is not to stop the behavior. It’s to recognize the panic underneath it, and help your child feel safe again.

You’re going to try to move through the same steps we talked about in our post about anxiety, but they need to look a little different.

1. Respond to the panic, not what it makes them do. They think the house is on fire. They're trying to get you out; they're not worried about being polite. You're going to ignore any disrespect, yelling, or bossiness for now. Not because it doesn’t matter, but what needs a response is the panic behind it. You can talk about behaviour later, when they’re calm. Right now, your job is to help them feel safe.

2. Stay calm yourself. This is hard, but it’s crucial. If your child’s panic pulls you into your own state of panic (or embarrassment or helplessness or anger), it’s going to be a lot harder to help either of you. You can’t co-regulate someone if you’re a wreck. You also can’t think clearly about what is possible or helpful if you’re, say, stressed about what all the people around you think of your parenting. And your child will sense your dysregulation and take it as a sign the situation is as scary as they think it is.

Drop your shoulders and your other plans for the next few minutes. Keep your tone of voice steady and calm. Imagine creating a bubble around the two of you, as much as possible. Just you and your child. That’s your whole focus right now.

Let your tone and physicality say: You are not alone. You are not in trouble. I’ve got you.

3, Try to get them to talk about it. 

If your child can talk, ask them to tell you what’s going on. “You seem really upset? What’s happening?” or “What’s going through your head?” The goal is to get them talking. Sometimes even labelling a fear can wind back the panic.

If they can answer, you’re going to use reflective listening: repeat what they’ve said back to them in a warm, calm tone. Not to validate the fear itself, but to validate that you hear them. "You're worried that something on the playground is bad, that something bad is going to happen," or “You feel like you can’t breathe and all your muscles hurt.”

You're not trying to reassure them. You're not contradicting them. You're just repeating what they said, trying to keep them talking. Ask, "Is that right?" For some kids, just hearing it in a nice, calm, grown up voice helps them start to come down. You can add, “That sounds really hard,” even if you know what is worrying them is ludicrous.

If they can’t talk yet, try thumbs up/down questions. “Are you worried something bad is going to happen?” “Would you like to move away from the dogs?” 

If they can’t even give a thumbs-up, validate the panic. “I can see you are really, really scared.” Say, “I want to know what’s going on. Can you try to point to the problem?” Ask if it’s something inside them or in the room, if they want to move away, if they can lead you to the problem. If they really can’t communicate, try something from the tools for calming and sensory reset section below. 

What about reassuring them their worries aren’t true?

The trick is this: your child really thinks there is danger. If they sense that you are skipping to “calm down” before you address their concerns, you’re only going to make them feel more alone and frustrated. Reassure them if it’s something easy and obvious, like, “We left my stuffedy in the diner!” and you can say, “Remember we gave Pokey to dad to take home?” But know that it might not work, and don’t try to convince them now. You’ll get a chance to address the fear itself when their system is calmer.

4. Make sure they know they are not alone.

Panic feels like danger, and it feels like nobody gets it. Show them you’re there (“I’ve got you”). Create that bubble for just the two of you. Use “we” as in “We can handle this” or “We’ll figure this out together.” 

Stay physically close. If they need space, say, “I’ll be right here,” and stay visible. Even if you need to move away for safety, make sure they know where you are, that you are still with them emotionally.

5. Give them a sense of control 

Panic makes kids feel like they have no control, over what’s happening, over their own body, over what might come next. You can offer a little of that back. Ask them: "What would help?" or “What do you need?”

They might yell, “I want to go home!” Instead of arguing, reflect, "You really want to get off the playground." Then, if it's something you can do reasonably, maybe just do it. "We'll go home. Let’s go collect your brother and your sister." Sometimes just hearing they can leave helps kids calm down.

They might say, “I have to get off this plane, right now!” when you are 30,000 feet in the air (not a hypothetical example).

Even if you absolutely cannot do what they want, still reflect, "I understand that you want to get off the plane." Don’t say, “ We can’t do that.” Try “Let me think about some options” or try to keep them talking. Then you work as hard as you can to help them calm without seeming like you’re invalidating the worry.

Tools for calming, sensory reset, and refocusing

Basically, you’re trying to:

• Interrupt the panic loop

• Calm their nervous system

• Pull them back into their “thinking brain

Give them a task "Can you collect everybody’s boots and line them up?” or “Can you count the backpacks and make sure we have 5?” Make the task doable and low-stakes. The goal is to redirect their focus away from the panic.

Take a pause. Often when my kid is in a panic attack, I say, "Okay, let me think." Then I take a deep breath, sloooowly, and I pull off my glasses and very carefully use my T-shirt to wipe down every inch of my glasses while breathing very deeply. And then I put my glasses back on. I exhale. Then I start talking again. 

Just that little pause sometimes disrupts the panic cycle. Offer them a snack and wipe down the tray table in nice, calming circles. Offer to sit next to them, and take a moment to clear the spot.

Or, be explicit. Say, “Oh, that is a hard one. I need thirty seconds,” and then take a deep breath. All that deep breathing calms you for sure, but it can also help co-regulate them.

Try sensory calming or physical touch. Offer to massage their hands, gently scratch their scalp, give them a deep hug. Move to a dark, quiet space, play a favorite song, use a scarf to create that bubble. You can do these things while reflecting their feelings. Always ask first before touching or moving them.

“Trick” them into regulating. Singing is great for this: you cannot sing without regulating your breathing. Some kids tune into a string of endless calm adult chatter, which replaces the chatter in their brain. Or, give them some grounding sensory input. Ask them to lift the heavy bags or squeeze the coats very tightly or stomp their boots on.

Get them thinking logically. Try counting, reading, planning, or building. “Is your heart racing? Let’s see how many times it beats this minute.” “How many kids are on the playground?” “Let’s name all the streets on our way home.” 

Get them into what’s really happening in the present moment. Ask them to name:

• 5 things you can see

• 4 things you can feel

• 3 things you can hear

• 2 things you can smell

• 1 thing you can taste

Ask them to name five parts of their body they can move, to say what parts of them are touching the ground/the chair/the air. These work best if you’ve practiced it when they’re calm.

Get them moving. Running, jumping, dancing, holding something heavy. “Let’s wave our arms and get your brother’s attention.” Get their bodies moving, which gets them breathing and (hopefully) flushes out the stress.

Remind them they’ve survived panic before. Even for kids who know they are having a panic attack, it can feel like they can’t breathe or are in danger just from the attack itself. For kids who don’t know, it’s even scarier. Remind them: "This is a panic attack. It's happened before, and you got through it. You'll get through it today too." 

Tell yourself that too.

When they are calm

After the storm (hours later, even), loop back with some quiet reflection. 

Label it gently. “You had a scary thought, and your brain thought it was real. It got your body super freaked out, and then your thinking brain got overwhelmed. That’s something called a panic attack. It feels awful, but it’s something we can get through.”

The goal is to validate the experience, and help them recognize it next time.

Point out that they got through it. “It was hard, but you did it! You got your brain back online and calmed yourself down.” Again, the goal is to help them remember that next time.

Make a plan. Next time you’re going to be in that situation, or if you think the panic will recur, make a plan. You might know a trigger now, so how can you help in advance? Ask your child what was helpful, what they’d like to try. Give them some ideas and some agency in advance, so maybe they won’t spiral.

Help other adults help your child

Prepare other adults to be most helpful to your child.

• Tell them what happens in an empathetic way: “Poor kid sometimes has panic attacks and gets so worked up she forgets all the rules.”

• Tell them what they might see: “When she’s really scared, she sometimes gets really bossy and yells. She’s not being defiant, she’s trying to communicate her panic.” If they can “catch” the panic early, they might be able to stop the spiral.

• Tell them what to do: “Bring her to a quiet space and talk in a calm voice. Don’t try to reassure her, just listen. Offer to rub her hands or gently guide her into a song.”

One last thing

You’re not going to handle this perfectly. You’re going to say the wrong thing, try the wrong thing. You’ll end up dragging them off the playground, leaving one shoe and six shocked strangers in your wake. You’re going to resort to hissing, “Stop. Screaming. Or I am hucking the iPad. I am not going to be the airplane woman on YouTube today.” (Ahem, also non-hypothetical).

You’re going to be there, though, in it with them, as best as you can. You’re going to make that bubble for them and for yourself and try to stay calm and remember some of these steps.

You’re going to help them learn that even in panic, someone will stay with them, that even in chaos, they can make their way back to calm, and you can get through this together.

You got this.

Want more like this? Join our newsletter. No spam, no sales, no fluff. Just real talk, ideas, and advice, delivered monthly.

Summer Survival #1: It might be sensory

Summer is a sensory nightmare.

My youngest experiences heat as “needles in my skin.” Frozen treats melt down to your elbows. Things buzz near your face. Sunscreen. Fireworks. Chlorine. Sand.

Kids with hypersensitivity might experience these things as actual pain, or as something they truly can’t ignore. OR, they might not even realize they’re uncomfortable. They might just feel agitated or exhausted or convinced everyone at camp hates them (that was us).

If your child is struggling this summer, try investigating their sensory experience, even if they aren’t complaining about being hot or itchy. Then try some of these strategies.

What to Pack

Keeping cool: Reusable ice packs for the camp backpack, a small battery-powered fan, frozen water bottles that double as cold packs before they melt, wet bandanas for necks and wrists. A spray bottle filled with cool water can be a lifesaver. 

Sun protection without squirming: Solid sunscreen sticks that aren’t gooey, spray sunscreen nobody has to rub in, long-sleeved rash guards, wide-brimmed hats with chin straps. Try turning application into a "massage" with firm pressure instead of light rubbing. If they can tolerate it, have them count to ten-Mississippi, smear on what you can, and be done. Or abandon hope and bring an umbrella.

Sound management: Noise-canceling headphones and audiobooks for bedtime, earplugs for fireworks or on a motorboat. Some kids do better with earbuds that let in some sound but take the edge off. Some kids do really well with white noise machines, but white noise specifically makes my kid and I itch, so test and see what works (I like “brown noise,” which is just a different combination of sounds).

Texture solutions: Water shoes for kids who can't stand mushy sand or seaweed  or rough pool decks, Velcro so there aren’t pressure points on the sneaker laces, long loose pants and long sleeves to keep wind from tickling skin or rain from pricking it. Always have a dry change of clothes for after swimming, and check the inside seams in the bathing trunks. Bring a blanket they can sit on if grass feels awful. Serve the popsicle with a bowl to catch the drips before they’re stickified. Tie the hair back so those little pieces don’t do that thing with the sweat on your forehead.

Emergency regulation kit: Whatever helps your child reset when they're overwhelmed: a toy, a favorite snack, a comfort item, a soft cotton robe to change into, those headphones, dark sunglasses, a thin scarf to hide under, or something to focus on instead of how much it itches. 

What to Try

Build in breaks before they fall apart. If your child goes to camp, ask them to give your kid a daily "job" in the air-conditioned art room every afternoon. Plan a dip in a fountain or a run through sprinklers between camp and dinner. Retreat to the car and crank the AC in the middle of a beach day. Do this proactively, before they’re dysregulated, to ward off meltdowns.

Water resets everything. A swim or fountain dip provides a whole-body sensory reset. Run a lukewarm bath when you get home. Put them in charge of watering flowers and let them "accidentally" spray themselves. This is why our parents had those little plastic pools.

Also: make sure they drink it (not the pool water, though). They might not realize they’re thirsty, or, like my kid, they might think “water is boring.” Float some strawberries in it, or let them have the juice.

Give them some control. Let them put on their own sunscreen, if they want. Let them decide on outings, activities, what to wear, where to sit. Pay attention to what they choose: it might hold clues to what they’re trying to avoid. Let them decide how long to stay: promise them in advance you can leave when they ask to, then stick to it. Sometimes, feeling in control and not trapped makes tolerating the sensory experiences much easier.

What to Say

Label sensory experiences so they can learn to. Say what you're noticing out loud. Name the stimulus, your response, and a solution: "Wow, I'm so hot, I feel like I’m melting (or I'm getting cranky). Are you melting too? Let’s take a break inside." or "This noise is really getting on my nerves (or making me annoyed). Want to move somewhere quieter?" 

Label it for them when they’re agitated. “You are super jumpy! Is it the gritty feeling of the sand on your legs? Let’s sit on a towel.” Kids who can name what's bothering them and have solutions for it can ask for help before ending up in the camp office.

Use this structure to explain to camp counselors, babysitters, and family members. 

1. Describe the problem in an empathy-provoking way. 

“Sarah has some sensory issues that mean heat can feel like actual pain for her.”

2. Tell them what to look for. 

“She doesn’t always realize she’s overheated, so she might not say anything. Instead, you’ll notice she seems cranky (or resistant to directions or agitated, whatever is true for your child).”

3. Tell them what to do about it. 

“To ward this off, the camp director has said it’s okay for her to take a break in the office every day before lunch” or “If she gets dysregulated, it’s helpful for her to have a cooling break right away (or drink some cold water or use the ice pack in her bag).”

Keep It Short, Plan Your Exit

Whatever you're doing, plan for it to be shorter than you think will work. If you think your child can handle an hour at the pool, plan for thirty minutes. If you're hoping for a whole day at the amusement park, maybe start with a half-day.

You're not raising a child who can't handle things. You're teaching them to notice what their body needs and advocate for it. You're showing them that when they communicate their limits, you listen.

Have an exit strategy that doesn't make anyone feel like they failed. "We came, we saw the sea lions, we got ice cream on the way home" is a lot better than "we came, we saw sea lions, monkeys, and the super stinky reptile house, then we saw the floor of the women’s washroom and the horrified faces of zoo staff as I dragged my shrieking kid out the gates."

Remember: You're not trying to fix your child. You're helping them navigate a world that isn’t designed for their nervous system. Sometimes that means creative solutions. Sometimes it means leaving early. Sometimes it means staying home. 

That’s not failure or giving in. It’s raising a kid who knows their feelings matter, and knows what to do about them. Which is the whole point.

[Read Summer Survival #2: Defying the rules]

[Read Summer Survival #3: Your game plan for outings]

Want ideas like this sent straight to your inbox? Join our newsletter.

Want to talk about it, get ideas, or vent with other parents who get it?

Join a Huddle. Or chat with me 1:1. It’s confidential, no cost, no judgment. 

Or, ask a question anonymously. Because sometimes it feels like too much to share. Use this confidential form, and get answers from me.

Back to Library

How to help your real life anxious child in the real life moment (Anxiety, part 2)

[This is part 2 of a series on anxiety. Start with Part 1, Understanding your child’s anxiety, so you don’t make it worse. Or not – we know your time is limited.

[Read: Part 3: How to help during a panic attack]

Last post, I talked about understanding anxiety in our kids—how it's not always just stomachaches and tears, how sometimes anxiety isn't the real problem, and why the usual strategies can backfire spectacularly.

Now, let’s get into the real question: what actually helps? Because when your child is melting down about getting on the school bus or convinced something terrible is about to happen, you need strategies that work. Not next week, not after six months of therapy—but right now, in your living room, with your real-life anxious kid.

Classic responses to kids’ anxiety

You probably know many of these approaches. They generally assume anxiety is the problem (and they can work well if the child truly believes that it is—and sometimes even if not, especially when paired with other strategies). They’re aimed at calming the child, bringing them back into their thinking brain, and helping their system reset.

• Soothing. Tell them, “I’m here.” Say, "It's okay” or “There’s nothing to worry about.” Try singing, rocking, patting their back, hugs, deep pressure.

• Deep breathing. Try “balloon breaths” where they take a big inhale and then exhale big like they’re blowing up a balloon. Draw a square and let them trace it with a finger while they “box” breathe (4-second breath in/up, 4-second hold/across, 4-second breath out/down, 4-second hold/across).

• Engaging their logical brain. Ask “What’s most likely to really happen?” Reassure them with logic or science. Help them find perspective (“What’s the worst that could happen?”) or remind them they’ve done and survived this before.

• Co-regulation. Say "I'm here” and “You don’t have to do this alone." Take deep breaths yourself to help calm the situation. Use your own words to label what they’re feeling—just saying “You feel really anxious” has been shown to ease emotional regulation and help kids learn language to express themselves next time.

• Distraction. Break the cycle of fixating or ruminating with a favorite activity, or grab their attention in the moment with something they like.

• Punishment. Sadly, this is also a “classic” response to how kids express anxiety. We forget it’s not about the behaviour. We react to the yelling instead of the struggle underneath. We tell them to sit still, speak up, stop being bossy. We say, “I’ll talk to you when you’re calm” or send them to time-out. None of which helps them feel less anxious; it only forces them to escalate to be heard.

Again, many of these are reasonable and effective strategies. But sometimes kids need something different.

When a child is anticipating an actually terrible situation

In some ways, this is the hardest one — we can’t protect our kids from every awful experience. But we can help them face things with less anxiety and better chances of success.

Say your child is miserable every day on the school bus. It’s loud and smelly, the driver yells, the other kids tease them. It’s actually awful. So they worry about it every night. But the bus is the real problem—not their anxiety about it. Reassurance and suggesting they take deep breaths are not addressing the real problem and are not going to make it easier at bedtime when she dreads the next morning or when he’s sitting on the bus miserable and ready to explode. They just make us seem like we aren’t listening or we don’t care.

[more on this in Part 1: Understanding anxiety]

When a child is anxious about something imaginary or unlikely

The fear still feels real. The monsters are scary even if you know in the daytime they’re fake. A friend of The Huddle for Families who has OCD once explained it as the difference between being nervous to give a speech vs. genuinely believing the room you’re in is about to explode. When a child is truly convinced that something bad is going to happen, they’re not acting or thinking logically. They don’t WANT to calm down; they want to get out. They might even feel like their anxiety is keeping everyone safe.

In situations like this, the classic responses can actually escalate things, because they imply the fear — which the child really believes is real — is irrational or dismissible, which (as we explored in Part 1) can make the child feel unheard or even more panicked.

So, what to do instead?

1. Respond to the anxiety, not the manifestation of it

You can talk later about "behavior." Right now, don’t get triggered by any bossiness or disrespectfulness. Focus on the scared child underneath.

2. Stay genuinely calm yourself

A parent staying calm isn’t the magic fix-all some people preach it is, but kids do feed off our mood. It helps if you can remain genuinely calm—not pretending, not stuffing it down until you explode later. Model the self-regulation strategies you wish they were using. Stay in your own thinking, logical brain, so you can respond in ways that really help.

3. Figure out where the anxiety is centered. What kind is it?

Ask them:

• What's going on?

• What's got you worried?

• What's happening in your head right now?

• (when they're calm) Seems like every day you're worried about the bus. Can we talk about it?

• What are you picturing?

4. Show them they aren’t alone

Sometimes the most powerful thing is simply saying: “You don’t have to do this all by yourself” or “I’m here.”

Show them you’ve heard them. Before problem-solving or pointing out their own mistakes or faulty thinking, start with, “Let me be sure I understand. The bus is loud and smelly and you hate it. You get sick to your stomach, the other kids tease you, and the bus driver yells. That sounds awful. I understand why you hate that.” You’re not confirming their worries are accurate—you’re confirming how hard the experience is.

Try: “Oh, I can tell you’re really scared,” or “That’s hard!”

Labeling feelings helps regulate them. It gives the brain language, which supports emotional control. The more we do this, the more kids learn how to do it for themselves.

For some kids, it helps to respectfully mirror their big feelings, then guide them toward regulation. Try starting with big tone and facial expressions and gradually reining them in, like:
“THAT STINKS! That’s SO HARD! No WONDER your stomach hurts and you feel all jumpy. Whew. Okay. We’re gonna tackle this together. We’re gonna figure it all out.”

5. Give them a sense of control

Anxiety grows when we feel helpless. If we jump straight into fixing things or reassuring kids, we skip the chance for kids to feel capable—and may leave them feeling powerless.

Ask:

• “What would you like to do?”

• “What do you think would help?”

You might be surprised by their ideas. Even if they’re not workable, they help shift the brain from panic to problem-solving.

They might say, “You drive me to school every day?” Get all the ideas out first—don’t dismiss anything immediately. If they’re stuck, offer gentle options: “Some kids find it helpful if XYZ. Would you want to try that?”

If their idea is unreasonable (“NEVER GETTING ON THE BUS AGAIN!”), that’s not defiance—it’s dysregulation. They’re still worked up and trying to take control. Focus on the feeling: “You’re really worried about this!” and make sure they’ve let it out and know you heard them before you try to plan.

6. Make a plan

The plan doesn’t have to be perfect or logical to adult brains. Just making a plan does some important things:

• It gets us into our thinking brain. It helps bring kids away from the panic into problem solving. 

• It turns actually bad things into “expected things.” When we have a plan, things that happen or that other people do fall into the category of “I expected this, and I know what to do about it,” which makes us far less likely to react with rage or frustration.

• It makes us feel more confident. That confidence and reduced anxiety can sometimes translate to better coping skills. We’re not as stressed out or ramped up, so we have better access to good decision making. 

After the empathy, ask, “What do you want to do?” If they have a workable idea, great—start planning. If not, you can say, “Oh buddy, I wish I could, but I have to be at work at 9. Let’s think of some ways to make the bus better. What if…”

Can’t think of ideas? Try, “What would the bus be like if it were already so much better?” “What’s the biggest thing we can try to fix first?” “Who could we ask? What do you think they would say?”

[You can also chat with me about it — more info here]

Then make a plan. Maybe they wear noise-canceling headphones. Maybe they sit near the front and bring mint candy. Maybe they practice telling themselves, “She’s not yelling at me,” when the driver gets loud. Maybe you write a short, confident response for when other kids tease them—something that might defuse the aggression or help them feel more prepared.

You can even practice the plan. Use stuffed animals. Make it silly, make it light—anything that gives them more control in the moment.

Your plan can’t be utterly unrealistic (“I will ask everyone nicely to not yell or tease me” is not going to work, sadly). But it doesn’t have to be flawless. It just has to feel realistic enough to your child and reasonable enough to you. That combination can dial the anxiety way down—and help keep them in their thinking brain when it matters.

7. Warn the right people about the plan

Set your child up for success. If the plan is to ask to sit near the front, make sure the driver knows to say yes. If the plan involves asking other kids to play at recess, can you prep those kids through another parent or teacher?

When Nothing Seems to Work

What if you’ve tried everything, and your child is still struggling?

1. They may not be able to talk about it yet. Some kids can’t name what’s going on—or don’t even recognize that it’s anxiety. Think about how we sometimes get mad at our partner for being late, but the real feeling is worry. You may need to play detective to figure it out.
   

2. Their body may need a release. Anxiety lives in the body, often even after the initial trigger is gone. Try movement, stretching, deep hugs with deep breaths together, outdoor play, or a warm bath to reset the nervous system. Let them scream if they need to. Join in if you do – you probably need the release too, we know.
   

3. Panic attacks need slightly different support.

   [Read Part 3: How to help during a panic attack]

4. Remember: Their behaviour makes sense. Behind your child’s anxiety is a real need. When we start there—with empathy and some problem-solving—we can help them find their way back to calm. 

5. Remind both of you: you are going to get through it. You have done hard things before, and you will again. You got this.

Want help figuring it out?

That’s what we do.

• Book a free 1:1 chat. Ask questions, get support, and let’s figure it out together. Sign up here.

• Read Part 1 on understanding anxiety.

• Read Part 3: How to help during a panic attack

• Want more like this? Sign up for our newsletter. No spam, no sales, no fluff. Just ideas and advice monthly.

“Aren’t they a little old for that lovey?”

Oh, the lovey. It might be a fabulously soft bunny blanket or a stuffed bear, dad’s old shirt or that one blue truck. It’s gotta come everywhere, it’s not allowed to be washed, and it’s irreplaceable (they’ll know if you’ve ordered a duplicate!). As kids get older, so do loveys. At some point, people start commenting, “Aren’t they a little old to still have that thing?” Grandma has opinions. And parents start stressing: Will my child never be independent? Will she get married with her bouquet in one hand and a thirty year old blankie in the other?? What can I do???

Here is the thing: We all have loveys – things that we use to feel safer and more confident.. Some of us have actual loveys, blankies, stuffed friends. Some of us have lucky jerseys, favorite undies, or a necklace that reminds us of our grandma. We have strict adherence to a diet or a vigorous workout schedule or a moral code. Some have fiction, some have prayer, and some of us have a three-tiered system of to-do list organizational software that makes us feel like we have control over the chaos (it’s me). Many of us use our cell phones as security blankets. Some people wear the same shirt every day or want the same seat. And some kids (and grown ups) feel a lot safer with a lovey, a blankie, or a stuffed friend.

The world throws all kinds of anxiety at us every day, and we do what we can to not be overwhelmed. Given the vast range of unhealthy things humans use to deal with stress and anxiety, an adorable stuffed bear who acts as a sensory comfort and a stand-in for a parent seems harmless to me. If a lovey or the same shirt every day or a having a favorite toy hidden in the backpack can diffuse even a little of that anxiety, if it can make it easier to sleep or get back to sleep in the dark, to self-regulate, to feel a little less alone at school, why wouldn’t I want my child to have that?

When we tell children “you’re too old for that,” we are saying, “something’s wrong with you because normal 8 year-old kids don’t need that.” We are saying being “normal” is more important than feeling safe. We are saying we don’t understand or accept who they actually are and what they actually need. Because they *do* need it, or something like it. Otherwise they wouldn’t be clinging to it. 

This is an important point, not just about loveys. Us *wanting* our kids not to need something doesn’t change the fact that they do. Taking support away because we think the child “shouldn’t” need it or we hate that they need it doesn’t take away the fact that they need it. And removing a child’s source of self-regulation and safety does not magically make them more confident or skilled at self-regulation.. 

So, be honest with yourself (I know, I hate it too). Ask why you care so much. Is it public opinion, as in you are worried about people judging your child and you? Are you embarrassed to have a child who still carries a stuffed bear? Is it that you’ve bundled a whole bunch of anxieties about your child into this concrete representation of everything “wrong” with them? Maybe seeing the lovey makes *you* anxious. Maybe it makes you feel like a bad parent because you think they “shouldn’t” need it. If this is about you more than your child (and trust me, that’s familiar), you gotta work that out in your own way. Our kids have enough people telling them they aren’t meeting invisible milestones and benchmarks for “normal” without us adding to it.

Now, let’s look at some possible ideas to help your child when they leave the house, or if the lovey is really getting in the way of their learning or play:

Substitute loveys. Can they carry one corner of the blankie in their pocket? Would a laminated photo of Teddy work? Can you find a mini-version of the lovey to hang from a necklace or a keychain on their backpack? Is there something else they could wear daily that might offer the same support? This is something you’ll figure out with your child. You might need to try a few things, to see what works. Or, can you turn the need for this one toy into the need for one of several toys? Maybe it’s the red truck’s turn to go to school. Starting to vary the actual objects might be the first step to being able to use different tools for self-comfort.

Sensory substitutes. If lovey is offering sensory input, is there another way to get it that might be more socially acceptable or subtle? For example, if the most important part of the lovey is the tag, can the child wear a string bracelet with a tag sewn on? If they like to hug Teddy, is there another way to get that squeezing sensation, like a hug vest or a big pillow to squeeze? Again, gather info and experiment.

Hidden loveys. Can Teddy live in the backpack at school and get quick visits? I have written the freedom to do this into individual education or safety plans (ours was something so much weirder than a teddy bear, but it still worked, so ask the school!). Or, can the lovey be incorporated into a scarf or another accessory or even stuffed into a soft bag on a keychain and worn around? 

Leaving the lovey somewhere safe. Can the lovey rest in a special bowl or case while the child works and plays? This can help kids who need a lovey near them, but also need their hands free. It might also help kids wary of leaving a stuffed friend at home because they worry about it. Maybe Teddy can live in the window, looking out for when the child comes home. Maybe while the child is at school, Teddy has to go to stuffed friend school, where he has all sorts of adventures that become that night’s bedtime stories (this last idea takes a lot of energy and creativity, I know. But if it works, you might find it easier to address other school struggles your child is having by pretending Teddy is having them too).

If other children tease (or you’re worried they will). That is unkindness, and it should be dealt with accordingly. If you preemptively say your child can’t bring the lovey because you are worried about other children being unkind, you may be sending the message that your child *deserves* to be teased. You’ll definitely be sending the message that masking or acting in ways specifically to avoid being teased is more important than feeling safe and getting what they need.

You could say, “There are some people who don’t understand the world who will make fun of someone because they have a lovey. This is unkind and also ridiculous, but in case it happens, let’s think about what you’ll say back” (this may avoid them ending up in the principal’s office with my awesome kid who once retorted, basically, “Yeah, well, I could leave this at home, but you’ll always be stuck with that face”).

The most important thing to remember. Some of the most confident, ambitious, extroverted people I know still have a favorite stuffed animal in the back of their closet, even as adults, and I don’t think those things are unrelated. Because we all – especially these days – could use a little safety. Like so many things about parenting, the hardest part is to trust that growth will happen. Someday, they won’t need that lovey so much. That day will come a lot faster if they’ve been allowed to feel safe, to let go of the support they need on their own terms and timeline, and to know that their most trusted grown-ups understand them and have their back.

You got this.

Want help figuring out other ways to help your child with anxiety or confidence? We are here to talk.

Talk to Jacqui 1:1. It’s free and confidential.

Subscribe to our newsletter and get ideas, updates, and advice (we will never spam you or sell your info!).

Join a Huddle and chat about it with other parents working through similar things.

Read more articles.

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.

Back to Table of Contents

Lower the Bar

You figured it out! You were a relentless detective, and you’ve got a strong idea of what’s making things hard for your child. Hurrah!  Now what?!

Picture this: you’re playing a game with your child. The goal is to literally jump over a broomstick or bar. They can’t do it. The bar is too high.

This is where you and your child are right now. We know they are already trying as HARD as they can. If they’re not jumping over that bar, it’s too high. There’s an easy solution: lower the bar.

This is a no-brainer in the metaphor. You hold the bar a little lower, to a place where you know they can do it, and let them practice there for a while before trying a slightly higher level. You would never leave the bar too high, encouraging them cheerfully, offering them rewards to motivate them to jump something they simply can’t. You lower the bar. You trust that they’ll practice at the lower level and build the muscles they need to jump higher.

In real life, this means temporarily lowering our expectations, maybe even eliminating them all together. It means allowing your child to work at a level you know they can achieve, trusting they will get stronger and gradually raising the bar as they do. It means dropping ideas of what children “should” be able to do and being realistic about what your specific and amazing child CAN do.

How do I lower the bar?? Here are some ideas:

Start where they are. Reduce the task to a level you know they can achieve. Make it easy while they gain confidence and maybe reduce the anxiety they have built around this thing we’ve been asking them to do every day even though they can’t do it. This has the added benefit of letting you raise the bar slowly, in specific ways that allow you to test to see where things fall apart, so you can better help fix the problem. If they consistently fall apart ¾ through the math work, let them only do ½ of it and build from there. If they can get dressed entirely but melt down over zippers, start the zipper for them, and let them finish the job. You don’t run a marathon without spending many weeks running not nearly that far.

Separate the expectations. Tackle one challenge at a time. If a task has many expectations, can you separate them so your child only has to work on a few at once? If they can’t sit still for 15 minutes for silent reading, can they practice reading aloud while dancing around the living room, and then practice the sitting still and silent part another way? Can you practice reading comprehension and discussion on books you read aloud to them, so you’re separating the need to decode from the need to understand? If your teenager can’t write the essay, can they TELL you the thesis and what supports it, and you record it for them, so they can feel like they’ve started a first draft?

Offer selective help. You’re not doing it for them; you’re offering assistance as needed. You start the zipper, and let them pull it up. They start tying their shoes, and you double-knot them. For regular tasks that spark regular meltdowns, you can say, “Do you want to try it yourself or would you like me to help?” You can start with the first steps of the task, if that’s what they need. Some kids like this because it helps them get going. Or, you step in to help them finish the last steps. Other kids like this because the task is already less overwhelming when it’s their turn. Either way, gradually turn steps over to them until they can do it themselves. Give them a ride into the washroom and put the toothpaste on the brush for them, but let them do the brushing. Send them to do the easy math problems, then step in to help with the rest.

Drop the expectation entirely (for now). If it’s truly too hard, as evidenced by the fact that it’s not working, drop it for now. If they can’t swim, get them out of the deep end. Do this PROACTIVELY and for real. This means everyone involved agrees this thing is not an expectation for now. It doesn’t mean trying to get the kid to do the thing every day and then giving in when they can’t, or looking longingly at the thing and clearing your throat and hoping. This only perpetuates anxiety and, honestly, reinforces the escapist benefits of however they are protesting or showing they are overtasked. Instead, you’re going to agree that, for now, the lunch room is not a thing your child is going to be asked to do. You’re going to tell your child this with no disappointment or frustration. There is simply a point past which you cannot lower the bar except to say, “This is too hard, let’s jump together with no bar or go play lego.”

But doesn’t this mean I’m “giving in”? Lowering the bar is NOT a sign of weakness. Quite the opposite: it is a sign that you understand your child and believe in their potential to grow and learn. It’s a sign you are strong enough to stand up to a world that places so many “standardized measures” and “milestones” on real children who grow and learn in varied and disparate and asynchronous ways. You are showing your child all of this, and also showing them that you have their back and think they are fundamentally capable, and that you know they are trying as hard as they can.

But doesn’t this mean they’ll “never learn”? First of all, if they are failing to the point of frustration or overwhelm every time they try, they’re not learning now. Or, rather, they are learning that they stink at this and maybe it’s not for them. Second of all, this is actually how humans learn best, by starting with something just on the other side of easily achievable and practicing, gradually making things harder as we get better. You’re going to celebrate the heck out of every win, even if they are far below what kids that age are “supposed” to be able to do. You’re releasing your child from the stress and anxiety surrounding the task so they can focus on learning it, which is the ONLY way they’re going to have the perseverance they need to figure it out.

The elephant in the room: Maybe they are never going to be able to do this. Maybe being in a music class with 29 other 8 year-olds playing recorder poorly is ALWAYS going to be too much for them (it is for me). Lowering the bar or dropping the expectation is STILL the best thing to do: you are helping them understand themselves and what they need. You are showing them they deserve support and understanding from others. And, you are giving them a vocabulary for asking for it. These are the pillars of self-advocacy in any situation, for any child. And they are far more important to learn than the recorder.

Want ideas for lowering the bar or help figuring out why it’s so hard in the first place? That’s what we do. Talk it out with me 1:1 (office hours are free for now).

Want to meet some other nonjudgmental, ready-to-help parents whose kids are having trouble metaphorically jumping? Find your Huddle.

Want to read more or find a specific article? Start here.