Tag Archive for: Family

If you listen closely, you can already hear it—the zip of fresh backpacks, the crinkle of notebook wrappers, and the collective gasp of parents realizing the days of “popsicles for lunch” are numbered. Whether your child is brand‑new to kindergarten or a seasoned locker‑door slammer, a little prep now will save everyone tears.

Here are seven research‑backed ways to welcome the 2025‑26 school year:

1. Shift the Sleep Schedule…Tonight

Summer bedtimes have a way of sliding faster than a Slip ’N Slide. But sleep isn’t just beauty rest—it’s brain rest. The American Academy of Sleep Medicine recommends 9–12 hours for 6‑ to 12‑year‑olds and 8–10 hours for teens. Start rolling bedtime back by 15 minutes each night until you hit the target. Consistent bedtimes aren’t just good for grades; studies show they boost emotion regulation and behavior.

2. Reboot the Morning Routine

Practice makes peaceful. Do a “dry run” of the school‑day routine this week: set alarms, pack lunches, even drive the route. Younger kids love a timer challenge (“Can we get teeth brushed before the countdown ends?”). 

3. Meet the Teacher  Early

If your child’s campus offers an open‑house night or “popsicle on the playground,” go. Nervous systems calm dramatically when hallways morph from the unknown to the familiar. Snap classroom photos so younger kids can study them at home and build excitement.

4. Muscle‑Memory Academics: 20 Minutes a Day

Dust off library cards and math‑fact card decks. Twenty minutes of reading or a quick “grocery‑store math” game in the cereal aisle reactivates neural pathways dulled by the summer months. Think of it as stretching before the marathon—you’re preventing first‑week brain cramps.

5. Build a Homework Landing Zone

Pick one spot for backpacks, chargers, and permission slips—preferably near an outlet and far from the refrigerator. A simple cubby or wall‑mounted hook system turns “Mom, where’s my tablet?” into a non‑issue. Pro tip: post the year’s school calendar right above it so field‑trip forms never disappear.

6. Talk Feelings, Not Just Supplies

Back‑to‑school butterflies are real. Over dinner, try the three‑word check‑in: “Name one thing you’re excited about, one thing you’re nervous about, and one thing you’re curious about.” Normalize mixed emotions and brainstorm coping plans—deep breaths, doodle breaks, or a worry stone tucked in a pocket. When children feel heard, their cortisol falls and their confidence rises.

7. Celebrate the First Week—Whatever Happens

Plan a “High‑Low‑Buffalo” pizza night that first Friday. Everyone shares a high (best moment), a low (toughest moment), and a buffalo (random surprise). Rituals like this turn school into a family team sport and remind kids that mistakes are just detours on the learning road. 

Parents, your calm is contagious. If the crayons aren’t color‑coordinated or the monogrammed lunchbox never arrived, your kids will still learn, laugh, and grow this year. Model flexibility, keep humor handy, and remember: every August is a fresh invitation to shape not just scholars, but resilient human beings.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

As a mom of two—I get it. Screens are everywhere. They’re helpful, entertaining, and sometimes, let’s be honest, the only reason we get to finish our coffee while it’s still warm. But as both a parent and the CEO of a nonprofit that helps strengthen families, I can’t stop talking about the effects screens have on our children and the future of our society as a whole.

In fact, new research shows that consistent screen use by children does more than just bolster a disconnect between parents and children; it actually shapes the way a child’s brain develops.

Here’s the heart of it: kids’ brains are still under construction. The early years are when neural connections are built at lightning speed. What they see, do, and interact with literally shapes how their brains grow. When screens take up too much time, other critical activities—like face-to-face conversations, imaginative play, or outdoor exploration—can get pushed aside. And that comes with consequences.

Research from the University of Cincinnati and Cincinnati Children’s Hospital found that children who use screens excessively tend to have lower development in parts of the brain responsible for language, self-regulation, and critical thinking. That means a child who’s spending hours each day swiping and tapping might struggle more with focus, finishing tasks, or expressing themselves clearly.

In fact, a National Institute of Health study showed that preschoolers who logged more than an hour of screen time a day (without parental involvement) had less white matter in their brains—white matter helps with learning and communication.

Translation: too much solo screen time can make it harder for kids to learn and connect with others.

And it’s not just about the brain scans. Pediatricians are seeing real-life effects too: increased irritability, sleep issues, delayed language development, and emotional outbursts—especially when it’s time to turn the screen off. Some even call this “post-screen tantrum syndrome.” If your toddler melts down the minute you hit pause, or your six-year-old zones out in front of the TV but bounces like a pinball after, you’re not alone. You’re seeing your child’s brain struggle to shift gears.

That said, this isn’t a guilt trip. Screens aren’t the enemy. They can be tools for learning and connection—especially when we use them together, not as babysitters. The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends no screen time for kids under 18 months (other than video chatting), and about one hour a day of high-quality programming for kids ages 2–5. But even more important than the number is the how.

Watching with your child, pausing to talk about what you see, and choosing programs that encourage imagination and problem-solving can make all the difference.

At home, my husband and I are trying to create what I like to call “tech-light” habits. We’re not perfect, but we aim for screens to stay off during meals, out of bedrooms, and off at least an hour before bedtime. And we’ve noticed that when we stick to it, our kids play better, sleep better, and honestly, we all connect better.

If you’re noticing big mood swings, trouble sleeping, delayed speech, or a preference for screens over people, it might be time to scale back and reset. That might feel hard at first—but kids are incredibly adaptable. When we give them more time to play, talk, run, and imagine, their brains will thank us. So will their future teachers, friends, and—someday—their own kids.

Screens are part of our world now. But they shouldn’t take over theirs.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

The other night, my 6-year-old son looked up from his peanut butter sandwich and asked, “Mom, what’s going on in that place called Gaza? Everybody is talking about it.” I paused, mid-bite, suddenly aware that his little ears had caught news from the TV at his grandparents’ house.

It’s a question many of us face:

When is the right time to talk to our kids about the hard stuff—the floods, wars, tornadoes, or tragedies that fill the headlines?

And just as important, how do we respond when they find out before we’ve had a chance to prepare them?

As a mom of two, and a professional focused on helping families thrive, I’ve learned that the answer isn’t always clear.

But experts agree on one thing: the best conversations start not with the what, but with the who. Who is your child? What’s their age, their temperament, their understanding of the world?

For little ones like my daughter, under age 3, less is more. They don’t need to know details; they need to know they’re safe and loved. If they catch a glimpse of something scary—an image on TV, a worried tone in our voice—we can say something simple like, “Yes, something happened far away, but we’re okay. And helpers are taking care of it.”

As kids get older, they start to absorb more than we realize—especially from school, siblings, or even YouTube ads you didn’t know autoplayed. With children between the ages of 4 and 8, it helps to start by asking what they’ve heard. “What do you know about what happened?” is a good place to begin. That way, you can gently correct any misunderstandings and address fears without offering more than they need.

And when we do explain, we should be honest—but gentle. We can say, “There was a big storm in another part of the country, and some people got hurt. It’s really sad. But there are lots of people helping.” Sharing basic facts without overwhelming them is key. According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, reassurance and emotional support go much further than detailed explanations. They also recommend turning off the TV and avoiding graphic images whenever possible. Kids don’t need a front-row seat to trauma.

Another thing I’ve learned—both from research and from bedtime conversations with my own kids—is that children take their emotional cues from us. If we seem frantic, they’ll feel scared. But if we stay calm and tell the truth with love, they learn it’s okay to feel sad or confused. It’s okay not to have all the answers. In fact, “I don’t know, but I’m here,” might be one of the most comforting things we can say.

When children seem especially affected—clingy, anxious, having nightmares—it might help to create small rituals of safety. Extra snuggles at bedtime. A favorite blanket. Drawing pictures. Or, for older kids, taking action: donating toys, writing a thank-you card to first responders, or simply saying a prayer for those affected. According to Ann Masten, a resilience research professor at the University of Minnesota‘s Institute of Child Development, even young kids can grow stronger through hardship when they have stable relationships, chances to help, and ways to process their feelings.

Of course, we can’t prepare for every question, and we can’t shield our kids from every headline.

But we can be their safe place—the calm in the chaos.

We can turn off the TV and turn toward them. We can hold their hands and help them make sense of a world that, yes, is sometimes scary—but also full of helpers, hope, and healing.

So next time your child asks about the storm, the war, or the thing they overheard in the school hallway, take a breath. Sit with them. Let their questions lead. And remind them—out loud and often—that no matter what happens in the world, they are not alone.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

The other night, my six-year-old son asked, “Can something be true for one person but not for another?” And just like that, between spaghetti and bedtime, we stumbled into philosophy.

I know—it sounds like something best left to college kids with thick glasses and lots of coffee. But recent research says otherwise. In fact, teaching philosophy to kids might be one of the best ways to help them think more clearly, speak more confidently, and understand the world around them. Even better? It doesn’t require fancy lessons or textbooks. Just a little curiosity and a lot of listening.

Philosophy is all about asking big questions and thinking deeply about them. Questions like: What’s right and wrong?, What makes something real?, Why do we do what we do?

It’s not about having the right answers. It’s about learning to ask smart questions, listen to others, and explain your thinking.

And yes, even young kids can do this. They already do—every time they ask “Why?” five times in a row.

According to a recent article from OK Diario, philosophy is one of the best subjects for sharpening kids’ minds. In places where it’s taught, students do better in reading, writing, and math. But here in the U.S., it’s hardly ever part of the school day.

Why? A few reasons. Schools focus so much on testing that there’s little time for open-ended thinking. And some adults assume kids aren’t ready for deep ideas—but the research suggests that’s just not true. Research shows children who study philosophy become better thinkers, kinder classmates, and more confident speakers.

So if it’s so helpful, how can we bring it back?

You don’t need a degree in ancient thinkers to get started. Philosophy can happen anywhere—on the way to school, at dinner, or during storytime. The key is to welcome questions and let your child do the thinking.

When your child asks a big question—like “What happens when we die?” or “Why do some people lie?”—try this:

  • Ask what they think. Instead of giving an answer, say, “That’s a great question. What do you think?”
  • Listen. Let them talk without jumping in right away. Sometimes just saying things out loud helps kids understand their own thoughts.
  • Wonder with them. You can say, “Hmm, I’m not sure either. Let’s think about it together.”

Even toddlers can join in. My daughter, who’s almost two, recently said, “Moon sad.” I didn’t correct her—I asked, “Why do you think the moon is sad?” Her answer? “It’s alone.” Philosophical gold. 

In a world full of quick opinions and loud arguments, kids who can think deeply and speak kindly have a big advantage. Philosophy helps them pause, reflect, and connect with others. It doesn’t just build brains—it builds better people.

So next time your child asks a big question—or even a weird one—lean in. You might just find yourself in the middle of a thoughtful, funny, meaningful conversation. And that’s something no app or worksheet can teach.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

Something interesting is happening around kitchen tables these days. Families are talking more openly about things that used to stay quietly tucked away—anxiety, boundaries, burnout, childhood wounds. Mental health culture has brought these topics out of the shadows and into everyday conversation.

That’s a good thing—mostly. But it’s also created a growing tension between generations.

Adult children are using new language to describe their experiences. They’re setting boundaries, processing trauma, and trying to parent differently. Meanwhile, many parents—especially those who raised kids in a time when emotions weren’t openly discussed—are struggling to keep up. Some feel blamed, misunderstood, or left out entirely.

This disconnect isn’t about bad intentions. It’s about different frameworks. And bridging the gap, while worth the effort, is far from easy.

Mental health awareness has grown significantly in recent decades, and therapy-informed language is now common among Millennials and Gen Z. Words like “emotional labor,” “gaslighting,” and “generational trauma” are part of regular conversation.

But research shows that this increased awareness sometimes leads to more—not less—conflict. A 2022 study published in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships found that while emotionally open communication improves individual well-being, it can cause friction when others aren’t operating from the same emotional playbook.

Older generations, often raised to “push through” or “keep it to yourself,” may feel confused or criticized when adult children bring up past pain or ask for emotional boundaries. And younger generations, wanting to heal, may struggle to understand why their parents seem resistant or defensive.

Avoiding these conversations altogether can lead to even deeper problems. A study from Cornell University found that unresolved family conflict is one of the top regrets people carry later in life. Estrangement, which was once rare, is becoming more common—nearly 1 in 4 Americans say they’ve cut off a close family member at some point.

In most cases, families don’t want to drift apart. They just don’t know how to talk across the emotional and cultural divides.

Here’s the hopeful part: families who do the hard work of navigating these tensions often emerge stronger.

Healthy conflict, handled with mutual respect, can deepen understanding and build trust. Psychologist Dr. Joshua Coleman, an expert in family estrangement and family therapy, notes that reconciliation is most successful when both sides are willing to reflect on their part and adjust expectations.

Adult children don’t need their parents to be perfect. Parents don’t need their children to forget the past. But both sides benefit when they can say, “I want to understand you, even if I don’t fully agree with you.”

If you’re a parent struggling with this tension in your relationship with your adult child, try these tools:

  • Ask questions before offering advice. When your child shares how they’re feeling or something they’re experiencing, posture yourself to listen rather than sharing. “What do you need from me right now?” goes a long way.
  • Don’t take boundaries personally. They’re often about the adult child’s needs for understanding and growth—not a rejection of your love.
  • Be open to learning. Therapy-speak might sound foreign, but behind it is often a deep desire for connection.

If you’re an adult child struggling with this tension in your relationship with your parent, try these tools:

  • Share feelings without shaming. “I needed something different back then” is easier to hear than “You failed me.”
  • Evaluate your own desire for the conversation and set realistic expectations for the outcome. Are you wanting your parents to go back in time and spend more time with you? Hear your needs? Show up more? We don’t have time machines, and it may not be something they’re willing to acknowledge and apologize for at the moment. They may need time to process and gather a response.
  • Acknowledge growth. Even small efforts by your parents to understand should be seen and named. Don’t expect perfect healing. Aim for progress, not perfection.

Repairing emotional rifts across generations requires humility, patience, and a lot of practice.

But it matters. Because our family ties, when healthy, are one of the few places where we can be fully known and still loved.

We won’t always say it right. There will be missteps. But leaning in—gently, consistently, and without the need to win—creates space for something new to grow.

Maybe that’s the real gift of this mental health moment: not to blame or divide, but to build something stronger than what we were handed.

And maybe, that work begins with just one honest conversation at the table.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

I’ve worked in the non-profit space long enough to know poverty wears more faces than just financial strain. And while my current reality is keeping my toddler from climbing everything in sight and trying to stop my six-year-old from sneakily waking up in the middle of the night to play legos for hours, I can’t help but reflect on another kind of scary reality—one we don’t often see but we feel: social poverty.

Social poverty isn’t about empty wallets. It’s about empty calendars, empty tables, and empty inboxes.

It’s the absence of dependable relationships and meaningful community—what some researchers from Northwestern University call a “lack of perceived or actual support from social networks.” It cuts across economic lines, affecting everyone from CEOs in high-rise condos to single parents in subsidized housing. But it hits harder and sticks longer in low-income communities, often compounding the already heavy weight of generational poverty.

Simply put, social poverty is a lack of social capital. That’s a wonky term, but think of it as your “people portfolio”—the relationships that give you help, guidance, accountability, encouragement, even opportunity. When that portfolio is empty, you’re socially poor. And the consequences? They’re not just sad; they’re significant.

Social poverty can impact everything from mental health to job prospects, parenting to physical well-being.

According to a 2023 study in Social Science & Medicine, those with weak social networks and disconnected family structures are at increased risk of depression, substance abuse, and chronic illness—regardless of income.

Yet for families living in low-income neighborhoods, where institutions are often strained and trust is fragile, this scarcity of connection becomes generational. Kids raised without a strong web of relationships and supportive families are more likely to grow up without the very safety nets that help them thrive.

Now let’s talk family. Because the breakdown of the family unit plays a huge role here.

Strong families are the original social safety net.

They’re the first responders in crisis, the late-night babysitters, the ride to the doctor, the wisdom at the dinner table– the built-in support system. But as marriage rates fall and single-parent households rise—particularly in economically vulnerable communities—many families find themselves going it alone.

Melissa Kearney, a University of Maryland economist and author of The Two-Parent Privilege, makes this point clearly: “We have a growing class divide in family structure, and that divide exacerbates inequality.” Two-parent families, she notes, are more likely to provide the kind of consistent emotional and logistical support that buffers kids against adversity. Without that, children are more vulnerable to instability, and parents are more likely to feel isolated.

And when isolation becomes the norm, social poverty isn’t far behind.

Let’s be clear: solving financial poverty matters. But if we address only the bank account and ignore the relational account, we’re missing half the story.

While I mentioned before that relational poverty exists across the socioeconomic divide, Dr. Robert Putnam, author of Our Kids: The American Dream in Crisis, highlights how affluent families not only have more money, but also have more access to “mentors, tutors, more stable family structures, social networks, and community stability.” This web of relationships supports upward mobility. Meanwhile, lower-income families often lack access to the very connections that could help them climb out of poverty.

As a mom of two, I think about this all the time. Not just What do my kids need? but Who do my kids need? Who’s going to show up when life gets hard? Who’s in our corner?

If we want to support families and children in poverty effectively, we need to build community and relationships as fiercely as we build resumes.

That means:

  • Rebuilding the family: Supporting healthy marriages and involved parenting is not just good policy—it’s good economics and social strategy. Programs that teach relationship skills, co-parenting strategies, and conflict resolution actually increase family stability, according to research published in the Journal of Family Psychology.
  • Investing in community: Whether through churches, schools, neighborhood groups, or nonprofits, communities thrive when people know and are known. Communities thrive when residents are empowered to make a difference from within.
  • Reducing stigma: Admitting loneliness or a lack of support should be met with compassion, not shame. Let’s normalize reaching out, showing up, and making room at our metaphorical tables.

Financial poverty may be easier to measure, but social poverty is just as real—and arguably more insidious. As a society, we can’t afford to keep treating relationships like luxuries when they’re basic necessities.

So when it comes to considering how to support families in poverty, let’s do more than ask, “How much do they make?” or “What type of education do they have?” but “Who do they have?” Because sometimes, the kindest thing we can offer isn’t a handout—it’s a hand to hold.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

There’s an old saying: “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.”

It’s a phrase often used when we’re caught between the emotional turmoil of familial obligation and the complex realities of our relationships. But does this mean we’re required to care for family members who’ve shown little to no care for us in return?

In my daily work, we deal with adults and children stuck in generational cycles of neglect, abuse, addiction, etc. My own family consistently deals with the complex dynamic of caring for and helping family members who have not made the best decisions or been dependable and functional in relationships.

Family dynamics are rarely as simple as we’d like them to be.

Sometimes, family members, whether parents, siblings, or other relatives, fail to provide the care and support that we expect or need. This can leave lasting scars, and understandably, the question arises: Is it still our responsibility to extend a hand when they’ve shown us nothing but indifference or neglect?

There’s a psychological phenomenon known as “familial obligation,” the belief that we must maintain close relationships with family regardless of how those relationships make us feel. Research suggests that this belief can stem from deep-rooted cultural and societal expectations.

Family is seen and desired to be a unit that provides unconditional love, yet this isn’t always the case for everyone.

A study published in the Journal of Marriage and Family showed that individuals who experience emotional neglect or dysfunction within their family often feel torn when it comes to maintaining these connections. On one hand, the sense of loyalty is ingrained; on the other, the desire for emotional well-being may conflict with these familial obligations and longings.

Psychologist Dr. Laura Markham, known for her work on family dynamics, suggests that empathy plays a significant role in how we navigate difficult relationships. She notes that while it’s essential to set boundaries for self-preservation, it’s equally important to understand the root causes of a family member’s behavior. If a parent, for example, was emotionally unavailable due to their own unresolved traumas, it might help to approach the situation with compassion rather than judgment.

“Forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting or excusing,” Dr. Markham says. “It means choosing to move forward with empathy, understanding that we can’t change the past, but we can redefine how we respond to it.”

Yet, the emotional cost of continuously caring for someone who never reciprocates can be high. The risk of burnout, resentment, and emotional depletion is real. For this reason, experts in family therapy often recommend establishing clear boundaries while still holding space for empathy. Remember, it’s okay to feel conflicted about giving to someone who hasn’t given back. Acknowledge your feelings, and then decide what you’re capable of offering.

When faced with the dilemma of whether to care for a family member who hasn’t shown you care, consider this:

What are you emotionally able to give? And what are your expectations? Compassion is vital, but so is self-care.

The National Institute of Mental Health suggests that maintaining mental health in difficult family relationships requires balancing compassion with self-preservation. If the act of caring for a family member becomes a burden, the impact on your mental and emotional health can be significant. Likewise, if you choose to care for a family member because you have an expectation of turning the relationship around or healing a wound, make that expectation known up front. Or, better yet, evaluate whether or not that expectation is realistic in the first place.

A study published in Family Relations found that individuals who engage in caregiving without proper emotional boundaries and expectations often experience depression and anxiety.

That’s why it’s essential to reflect on what your limits and desires are and communicate them clearly. You can love someone and still protect your emotional well-being.

The key is creating healthy boundaries that allow for compassion without compromise. This doesn’t mean cutting ties or withholding care, but rather, finding a balance that respects both your needs and the needs of others. Establishing these boundaries can sometimes mean limiting the frequency of contact or focusing on more specific ways to provide care that feel manageable.

Also, building a network of supportive relationships outside of your family can serve as a crucial support system. Studies indicate that strong, non-familial relationships can provide the emotional stability needed to navigate complex family dynamics. Leaning into these relationships can help you feel more grounded when dealing with family challenges.

Ultimately, deciding whether to care for a family member who hasn’t cared for you requires both introspection and external support. It’s okay to prioritize your own mental health while still maintaining a sense of empathy. There’s no “one size fits all” answer, and that’s okay. Each family dynamic is unique, and the decision to engage or disengage with family members should be made with consideration of your personal circumstances, emotional capacity, and overall well-being.

As we navigate our family relationships, we may find that our ability to care for others is strengthened when we first care for ourselves. And in doing so, we can create more meaningful, balanced relationships that honor both our needs and the complexities of family.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

If your household is anything like mine, summertime can feel like you’ve traded one color-coded calendar (school) for another (everything else).

The good news?

With a pinch of planning and a dash of research-backed creativity, families can turn the season into a relationship-building sandbox—no matter how full the calendar looks.

Here’s the game plan.

1. Name the season before it starts.

Researchers at the National Summer Learning Association call the vacation months “high-impact yet high-need” for kids’ academic and social development—especially when opportunity gaps mean some children have rich programs while others have none. In fact, a recent Gallup-backed summary shows 68% of higher-income students can afford extra summer learning, versus 37% of their lower-income peers.

Defining your family’s priorities—whether it’s catching up on reading or catching lightning bugs—helps guard against the comparison trap while keeping your goals front-and-center.

Pro tip: Hold a five-minute “summer summit” at dinner this week. Ask each child (and grown-up) to name one “must-do,” one “nice-to-do,” and one “let-it-go” item. Post the list on the fridge and let it steer decisions before something else does.

2. Busier schedules don’t mean less time together.

Parents often assume that a packed itinerary leaves no room for connection, but social-psychology research disagrees. Even micro-moments—brief laughs with the barista or a 30-second gratitude text—boost well-being and belonging. Think of your day as Swiss cheese: the holes are tiny, but they’re perfect for intentional touchpoints.

  • Commute-unity: Turn car rides into a “two-question ride.” Let kids pick the questions (e.g., “What superpower would you give the dog today?”).
  • Pocket postcards: Pre-stamp postcards and keep them in your work bag. Scribble a silly note between meetings; kids love snail mail—even when it arrives at their own mailbox.
  • The “Sunset 15”: Choose three evenings a week for a device-free, 15-minute family check-in on the porch. Short, predictable, powerful.

3. Keep flexible routines—your future self will thank you.

A 2023 Journal of Child and Family Studies survey of 1,500 elementary families found that predictable routines were linked to fewer internalizing and externalizing behavior problems and more prosocial skills in kids.

Structure doesn’t kill spontaneity; it liberates it by reducing decision fatigue.

Morning anchors (same wake-up, breakfast playlist, quick chore) and evening rituals (story, stretch, song) give children—and busy parents—cognitive rest stops. Sprinkle in spontaneity inside the framework: Taco Tuesday can become “Torch-lit Taco Tuesday” with flashlights in the backyard.

4. Move, Eat, Sleep—the summer edition.

The CDC reminds us that kids still need at least 60 minutes of physical activity daily, plus fruits, veggies, and plenty of Zzz’s. Make these guidelines work for real life:

  • “Commercial-break calisthenics” for rainy-day screen time. One jumping-jack per year of age during commercial breaks keeps things giggly and on-brand for the 6-year-old audience.
  • Sleep signals: Keep bedtime within 30 minutes of the school-year schedule to avoid September jet lag.

5. Use the SUN strategy: Sleep, Unplug, Nature.

Psychologist Lisa Damour’s summer mantra is delightfully on-the-nose: S for Sleep, U for Unplug, N for Nature. Her research-informed podcast episode argues that these three levers offer the biggest parental bang for the time-pressured buck.

Try a weekly “digital sabbath” hike, or let kids camp in the backyard (toddler makeshift-tent included).

6. Tame the screens before they roar.

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends clear “screen-free zones” (think dinner table) and “screen-free times” (pre-bed).

Draft a family media plan together; ownership breeds compliance. For working parents, automatic downtime settings on tablets mean you’re not the summer fun police—the tablet or device just needs a break.

7. Give yourself a grown-up recess.

Seventy percent of parents report feeling exhausted by late August. Block one evening a month for adult recharge—whether that’s a spouse date, solo bookstore wander, or literal nap.

Kids benefit from parents who model healthy boundaries and joy.

8. Leverage community assets.

Remember: camps, church VBS weeks, city splash-pad evenings, and grandparent swaps are not childcare “cop-outs.” They’re relationship multipliers that widen your child’s circle of safe adults while giving you oxygen to lead at work and at home.

Bonus: they often come with built-in social-emotional curricula (check those brochures).

9. Celebrate the last-day-of-summer feeling—now!

Mark the calendar for a simple end-of-summer ritual: backyard movie night, ice-cream-for-dinner day, or “kindergarten graduation keynote” delivered by your rising first-grader. Rituals stitch experiences into memory, signaling to kids,

We did something special together, and it mattered.

Intentional summers aren’t about squeezing more stuff in; they’re about weaving relationships through the stuff that’s already there.

With research as your compass and creativity as your sunscreen, you can step into June confident that every camp pickup, bedtime giggle, and microwaved s’more is building the family you want—one micro-moment at a time.

Happy firefly chasing!

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.