Tag Archive for: Parents

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The Comfort of Discomfort for Both Parents and Children

My two-year-old loves chocolate milk, especially in the morning with breakfast. Every day she asks for a big glass to drink with her fruit and toast. Most mornings I mix it up for her, but one morning we were out of chocolate syrup. Tragedy followed. 

The crying and the gnashing of teeth, the wallowing on the floor and refusal to eat breakfast–it was almost enough to make me serve her a handful of chocolate chips to suffice.

But as much as I want to smooth the path, I’ve learned (sometimes the hard way) that a little discomfort is not the enemy, it’s the gym where resilience grows.

Psychologists sometimes call this the “Goldilocks zone” of challenge, not too much, not too little. Research following thousands of people over time found that those who had some adversity, not none, not a ton, ended up with better mental health and well-being. Like muscles, our coping skills strengthen when they lift manageable weight. You see it in schoolwork, too. Learning scientists talk about “desirable difficulties.” When we let kids wrestle with a problem, space out their practice, or mix up what they’re learning, it can feel harder in the moment, yet it actually leads to stronger, longer-lasting learning. Struggle today, stick tomorrow.

Pediatricians say play is the perfect training ground for this. The American Academy of Pediatrics calls developmentally appropriate play a “singular opportunity” for building social-emotional skills, self-regulation, and a healthy stress response, the heart of resilience. Play isn’t a break from learning; it is learning. And yes, a dash of “risky play” (the supervised, common-sense kind—climbing, balancing, moving a bit faster than feels comfy) can boost confidence, risk detection, physical activity, and resilience.

Bubble wrap is for packages, not childhood.

Here’s the tricky part: our help can become a handicap if we give it too fast and too often. When we rescue kids from every uncomfortable moment, tying every shoe, solving every social tangle, emailing every teacher, we may accidentally teach them, “You can’t handle this.” Studies link chronic over-involved parenting with more anxiety and less self-efficacy in kids and young adults. Even our praise can backfire. Consistent research shows that praising kids for being “so smart” can make them avoid challenges and crumble after mistakes. Praising effort, strategies, and progress nudges them to lean into hard things and try again. That’s the heartbeat of a growth mindset.

If you’re thinking, “But watching them struggle hurts,” same. Here’s a reframe that helps me at home and at work: discomfort is data. It tells us where growth is happening and what support, not rescue, our kids need. When my toddler totters up the slide, my job isn’t to shout “No!” from the bench; it’s to spot, set a boundary (“feet first”), and cheer her small wins. When my first grader melts down over a tricky word, my job isn’t to say “I’ll read it for you”; it’s “Let’s slow down, try the first sound, and check the picture.” That style fits with what brain-based parenting experts like Dr. Dan Siegel teach: co-regulate first (our calm becomes their calm), name the feeling, offer a doable next step, and let kids take the lead as they’re able. We’re not tossing them in the deep end; we’re being swim coaches in the shallow end.

Here’s a simple loop we use around our kitchen table.

  • First, name the feeling: “Looks like this is frustrating.” Feelings first; logic later.
  • Second, normalize the struggle: “Hard means your brain is growing.”
  • Third, narrow the next step: “Let’s try just the first piece,” or “Show me two ways you might start.”
  • Fourth, notice the process: “You slowed down and tried a new strategy—nice.”
  • Finally, let it be a little messy. Resist the urge to fix. Sit with them—coaching, not controlling.

None of this means tossing safety out the window. Letting kids be uncomfortable is not letting them be unsafe. Helmets, seatbelts, and clear boundaries aren’t negotiable. The research on “risky play” isn’t a free-for-all; it’s a reminder that age-appropriate challenges build judgment and confidence when adults provide a safe “yes-space” and supervise with wisdom.

Now for the part we don’t say out loud: sometimes our kids’ discomfort dents our image of being a “good parent.” It stirs our anxiety. It slows the morning routine. It’s messy. But growth shows up messy and right on time. When we choose to tolerate our own discomfort by watching them wobble, try, fail, and recover, we model the exact courage we hope to see in them. And we don’t have to make grand speeches. We can practice in low-stakes moments: letting them talk to the cashier, carry the backpack, or work out a playground mix-up. Parenting author Jessica Lahey calls these the “gifts of failure,” small, safe chances to learn how to bounce back while the price tags are low.

So here’s what this looks like in real life.

When my six-year-old asks for help, I’ve started saying, “Show me what you tried first.” Then I add one hint—not the answer. When my toddler wants to climb, we make a quick “yes plan”: shoes on, rules set (“feet first, one at a time”), grown-up nearby. 

If you’re anything like me, you want your kids to be capable, kind, and brave. That future doesn’t come from clearing every hurdle out of their lane. It comes from running beside them, sometimes out of breath but always cheering them on while they learn to clear those hurdles themselves.

A little discomfort, for them and for us, is a sign we’re both getting stronger.

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

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How Families Turn Exposure into Opportunity

Here’s what my friend told me over coffee last week. “They have so many opportunities,” he said about the teens he mentors. “If I had half the opportunities around me at your age that you do right now… I would not be sitting where I am.”

I asked him what was holding them back. He answered with one word: “Exposure.” Many of the young people he loves haven’t left the neighborhoods they were born in. They haven’t seen other corners of our own city or met people living very different lives.

When I asked whether the problem was a lack of chances or something missing at home, he gave me one more word: “Family.”

Exposure isn’t just a nice extra. It changes what kids believe is possible. A major research project led by Harvard economist Raj Chetty found that when children grow up with more friendships that cross income lines (what the researchers call “economic connectedness”) they are far more likely to rise out of poverty as adults. In plain terms, when kids see new worlds and know people in those worlds, doors open later on. The team’s summary puts it simply: communities rich in cross-class connections produce more upward mobility, and boosting those relationships helps kids climb.

But exposure alone isn’t enough if a teen feels pulled back by invisible strings at home.

You may have heard the phrase, “Your parents’ ceiling should be your floor.”

I love that vision of every generation building on the last. Yet some teens feel a different message: Don’t outgrow us. Don’t leave us. Don’t make us look like we failed. Researchers even have a name for a piece of this: family achievement guilt. Studies with first-generation students show that when success feels like a threat to family ties, motivation can dip and well-being can suffer. The hopeful news is that when schools and programs speak directly to families, that guilt eases and students do better. 

Another pattern that can quietly hold kids back is “psychological control,” when a parent uses guilt or love-withdrawal to steer a child’s choices. Classic research links this to more depression and behavior problems in teens. By contrast, “authoritative” parenting, consisting of high warmth with clear limits, predicts stronger confidence, responsibility, and school success. Said simply: exposure opens the door; a healthy family climate gives a child the courage to walk through it. 

My own family history holds a story of how this could work.

We’ve owned a farm for more than a century in the most rural part of Hamilton County. In the early 1950s, my grandfather chose to marry my Mamaw (southern for Grandmother) and move about 15–20 minutes down the road—on purpose. He wanted my dad and his two brothers to have more opportunities. He also wanted to start businesses of his own, which he did, more than once. But he never turned his back on the farm or on his parents. We still gather there for our biggest celebrations. The love, encouragement, wisdom, and connection planted on that farm became rich soil for the rest of us. Because my grandfather was grounded in who he was and where he came from, and because his parents cheered him on, he could see opportunity, reach for it, and build a better life for his family. That step didn’t cause a rift. It caused a ripple, still moving through our generations today.

There is a paradox at work in our community; most parents want this for their kids and most are stretched thin, juggling long hours, bills, and child care. The good news is that small choices add up. Motivation research (often called Self-Determination Theory) shows that when parents pair warmth with real autonomy support, listening to a teen’s perspective, offering true choices, and letting them try age-appropriate risks, kids’ motivation and mental health improve. Even brief moments of support can brighten a teen’s day. Pediatric guidance says the same in everyday words: notice effort, set realistic expectations, and give kids chances to master real skills. Confidence grows from doing hard things with someone cheering nearby. 

If you’re a mentor, teacher, or coach, you can help untie those home-tugging strings by inviting families in. When colleges, training programs, and youth groups say to caregivers, “We want you involved, and here’s how,” students feel less torn and more free to take the next step. That small shift in message can make a big difference.

I also want to speak to any parent who feels a twinge of fear when your child dreams big. Maybe their success pokes at old shame or raises the fear of being left behind. Please hear this with grace: your worth is not measured by your child’s résumé. They aren’t leaving you; they are carrying you with them. When you cheer them on, you don’t disappear—you multiply your impact through their life.

At First Things First, we see this change all the time. Families heal old patterns, set new expectations, and try new things together. Teens find mentors, say yes to opportunities, and taste success. The circle turns. If exposure is the spark and family is the wood, then love, limits, and autonomy are the match. Let’s light a few fires this month, for our kids and for the city they will lead.

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

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Should Parents Care If Their Kids Like Them or Not?

I received a phone call from a concerned grandfather, parent and community leader recently. He said he and his wife have been volunteering at several elementary schools in the area, and there’s one glaring factor that school faculty are concerned about: Parents seem to be more concerned about whether or not their kids like them than anything else. 

Here’s an uncomfortable truth: I want my kids to like me, and they often do, but that’s not the North Star of my parenting. My job is to love them, keep them safe, teach them how to be decent humans, and give them room to grow. If they like me along the way, wonderful. If they’re temporarily mad because I said “no” to midnight YouTube or ice cream for breakfast? Also okay.

So should parents try to be “liked” by their kids?

The better target is connection and trust, not popularity. Psychologists have studied this for decades, and the style that helps kids thrive is called “authoritative” parenting. It blends warmth and responsiveness with clear limits. In plain English: you listen, you explain, and you still mean what you say. Studies consistently link this approach with better social skills, mental health, and school outcomes compared to harsher or looser styles.

When “please like me” becomes the main goal, it’s easy to drift into the land of “anything for a smile.”

That’s what researchers call permissive parenting—high on warmth, low on boundaries.

It feels peaceful in the moment, but over time it’s tied to more behavior problems and tougher emotions for kids. I’ve seen that in families we serve, and the research backs it up.

There’s a trap on the other side, too. If we fixate on obedience above all else, we can slide into psychological control with guilt trips, shaming, love-withdrawal, or “because I said so and you should feel bad for questioning me.” That style may get quick compliance, but it’s consistently linked to more anxiety, depression, and acting out. Kids need guidance; they don’t need their inner world micromanaged.

What does the middle path look like in a Tuesday-night living room?

It starts with connection.

You get on their level and name what’s happening: “You’re furious about the tablet being turned off. I get it.” Then you hold the limit calmly and explain why: “Sleep fuels your brain for school; the tablet is done for tonight.” That combo, warmth plus structure, is basically the recipe the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends: clear expectations, positive reinforcement, natural or logical consequences, and no corporal punishment.

Some parents worry that if they hold firm, they’ll damage the relationship. The evidence points the other way. High-quality parent–child relationships, marked by warmth, support, and trust, are connected to better well-being even in adulthood, across many countries and cultures. Your child may not like your decision tonight, but the steady, caring relationship you build by being both kind and clear pays dividends years down the road.

Here’s a simple gut-check I use at home: Am I saying “yes” because it’s best for my child, or because I want to dodge a meltdown? Did I connect first, then correct? Would “future me” thank “present me” for this decision? If my answer is mostly about keeping the peace or protecting my image as the “fun parent,” it’s time to reset.

None of this means you can’t be playful, goofy, and close with your kids. Please be all of those things. It does mean we shouldn’t make our children responsible for our feelings.

When we chase their approval, we can start negotiating every boundary or using emotional pressure to pull them back to us. A 2009 Developmental Review study on autonomy-supportive parenting shows that when we respect a child’s need to feel some ownership of their choices—within sensible limits—they develop more internal motivation and healthier coping skills. That’s very different from letting them run the show. It’s also very different from controlling their thoughts and feelings to keep them “close.”

So, should parents strive to be liked? I hope my kids like me. I hope they think I’m fun and fair and safe to talk to. But my real aim is to be trustworthy. Trustworthy parents tell the truth about limits and hold them without drama. They apologize when they blow it (we all do), repair quickly, and keep showing up. Ironically, kids often end up liking and respecting those parents the most.

If you’re a parent who’s been leaning hard into “please like me,” you’re not alone. Start small. Pick one boundary you believe matters. Explain the “why,” hold it kindly, and follow through. Expect pushback. Stay calm. Then do it again tomorrow. You’re not auditioning for their best friend; you’re building a relationship that can carry your child through big feelings, bad days, and growing-up moments.

In the long run, that’s better than being liked, it’s being loved and trusted.

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

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How We Learn to Hate and How We Can Stop

Recent events (both near and far) have led me to question one small little word with a big bite: “hate.”

My son’s school had to go into lockdown mode while we were having an outdoor celebration breakfast for his class. Nothing was going on at the school, but only a couple of blocks down the road gunshots were fired between people who were raging with hate towards each other. Out of an abundance of caution, we made our way into the cafeteria and had a giant dance party instead. 

Of course the kids asked all the questions, “Why did we have to come inside?”, “Are we safe?”, “Will we ever be able to go back outside?”

But they had no idea what happened only a few streets away, and they definitely didn’t feel the hate that started the whole issue.

Where does hate begin? How do regular disagreements turn into something darker? What helps us step back from that edge?

Psychologists say hate isn’t just “really strong dislike.” It’s a hot mix of anger, contempt, and disgust that can push us toward action. One brain-imaging study in 2008 even found a distinct pattern when people looked at someone they hated. Parts of their brain tied to strong emotion and action planning lit up, as if the mind were putting the body on standby.

But the slide into hate usually starts earlier. We sort the world into “us” and “them.” Then we tell simple stories about “them.” Psychologist Nick Haslam’s review of decades of studies shows how this can turn into dehumanization, which means to treat other people as less than fully human. This makes it easier to justify harsh words or worse. We don’t notice it at first; it feels normal, and that’s the trap. 

Politics turns that trap into a bear pit. A team led by Northwestern’s Eli Finkel, director of the university’s Relationship and Motivation lab, calls today’s political dynamic “political sectarianism,” othering, aversion, and moral contempt mixing into a poisonous cocktail. Their work notes that in the U.S., many of us feel more heat toward the other party than warmth for our own. That’s not just disagreement; that’s relationship acid.

Here’s a twist that sounds like every family argument ever: research from Adam Waytz and colleagues finds both sides think we act from love, while they act from hate. It’s called “motive attribution asymmetry,” and it locks conflict in place because compromise starts to feel like giving in to bad people with bad motives. 

So what actually helps? First, real contact. The human kind, not the comment-section kind. Back in 2006, a massive meta-analysis of 515 studies found that contact between groups reliably reduces prejudice, especially when people work together as equals and leaders support the effort. Translation: volunteering side-by-side beats arguing on Facebook.

Second, a bigger “we.” Social psychologists Samuel Gaertner and John Dovidio show that when we recategorize from “us vs. them” to “all of us,” bias drops. In normal life that sounds like, “We’re neighbors raising kids in the same city,” before we ever talk about policy. It’s simple and surprisingly powerful.

Third, shared goals. The classic 1954 “Robbers Cave” summer-camp study split boys into rival teams and—surprise—hostility erupted. What cooled it wasn’t a lecture; it was fixing problems together (like hauling a stuck truck) that neither team could solve alone. Families can borrow this: when a fight stalls, pick a goal bigger than the argument and push the truck together.

Fourth, better conversations. “Deep canvassing” is the term to describe 10-minute, nonjudgmental, story-sharing chats. In 2016, researchers David Broockman and Joshua Kalla found these conversations produced durable attitude change on a hot-button issue. The magic wasn’t debating harder; it was listening, reflecting, and trading personal stories.

And because our media diet shapes our mood, here’s a timely note: a 2024 University of Michigan analysis warned that rage-bait politics on social media can crank up our cynicism and hostility. If your feed makes you feel permanently itchy, that’s not a character flaw, it’s a design feature. Curate accordingly.

What does all this mean for daily life? In my house, we try to “disagree like teammates.”

We name the shared goal first (“We both want kind, sturdy kids”), we assume decent motives (“You’re aiming for safety; I’m aiming for independence”), and we take a break when we start narrating the other person as the villain. It’s not perfect. But the research backs up these small habits: contact, common identity, shared goals, and decent motives interrupt the slide from conflict to contempt and from contempt to hate.

So here’s a simple play for this week. Invite one person you disagree with for coffee. Ask three sincere questions before you share your view. Tell a short story about why you care. Then look for one thing you can do together like coach a team, pick up trash on your block, help a neighbor.

It won’t fix the internet, but it can change a relationship. And relationships are where the heat cools and the future is built.

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

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Key Adult Milestones Are Not Being Reached: What That Means for Everyone

Here’s the truth about “adulting” in 2025: it’s a moving target.

As a 35-year-old CEO of a family nonprofit—and a mom to a fearless two-year-old and a six-year-old who just discovered the magic of school lunch pizza—I think a lot about what our kids are growing up into. The U.S. Census Bureau’s latest look at milestones of adulthood gives us a clear signal: the path most young adults take today is different from the one many of us expected.

For decades, four milestones often stood in for “made it”: move out, get a job, marry, have kids. In 1975, nearly half of 25- to 34-year-olds had checked all four boxes. New Census data reveals that in 2024, less than one-quarter did. The most common pattern now? Young adults living on their own and in the labor force—but not necessarily married or parenting (about 28%). In short: economic steps are outpacing family steps. 

Census researchers also updated how they measure adulthood by adding a fifth marker—finishing education—and examined 2005 to 2023. In 2005, about 26% of young adults had reached all five milestones; by 2023, that share fell to about 17%. At the same time, labor-force participation remained the most common single marker (about 86% in 2023), and living independently dipped slightly (84% in 2005 to 81% in 2023).

We also see shifts inside the family story. Fewer young adults are married than three decades ago. In 2023, just 29% of 25- to 29-year-olds were married (down from 50% in 1993), and 51% of 30- to 34-year-olds (down from 63%). Among 18- to 24-year-olds, only 7% were married in 2023, according to the Pew Research Center.

Where young adults live has shifted, too. A majority of 18- to 24-year-olds (57%) currently live in a parent’s home, up from 53% in 1993. Housing costs, longer schooling, and a desire for financial stability are all part of the story. 

Remember, milestones aren’t just boxes on a list. They shape identity, purpose, and well-being.

The 2024 Census story notes that young adults are prioritizing economic security before starting families—understandable when housing, food, and gas take bigger bites of the budget. But when family formation lags, it can ripple into community life: fewer volunteers at schools and parks, later grandparent support, and smaller social safety nets built through extended family ties. 

At the same time, it’s worth remembering: Americans are increasingly comfortable saying there isn’t one “right” age to hit life goals. Many still see the ideal window for marriage, first child, and buying a home as 25-34, but a Pew Research Center survey reveals a large share now say there’s no best age at all. That cultural shift matters; expectations can either weigh young adults down or give them room to grow. 

For parents and families worried about whether or not their children will be a prime “failure to launch” situation, here are practical, research-backed ways to help young adults reach those milestones, on a timeline that fits real life.

1) Build the relationship before the résumé.

Strong, steady connections with caring adults protect mental health and help young people handle transitions such as college, first jobs, and new housing. Make regular check-ins a habit (text, coffee, a Sunday call). Ask good questions and listen more than you advise. Connectedness is protective.

2) Coach for independence, not control.

Think “scaffolding”: offer structure and encouragement while they practice making decisions around budgeting, reading a lease, setting up auto-pay, and making a doctor’s appointment. These are executive-function skills (planning, focus, self-control). They don’t magically appear at 18; they’re built with practice and feedback. 

3) Normalize starter steps.

Milestones are often reached in stages: roommates before solo rent, certificate before degree, internship before career. Praise the step, not just the finish line. This mindset reduces shame and keeps momentum going. (It also matches how today’s young adults are actually sequencing adulthood.) 

4) Open doors (your network counts).

Who you know still matters. New Census information shows young people who start at a parent’s employer earn 24% more at their first job and are still ahead three years later. You don’t need to be a CEO to help; introductions to managers, union halls, faith-community leaders, or small-business owners can be rocket fuel.

5) Talk about money early and often.

Help your young adult build a basic budget, check their credit report, and compare rent-to-income ratios. If you can’t contribute cash, contribute wisdom: how to avoid junk fees, negotiate a phone plan, or read a pay stub. Small money wins build the confidence that precedes bigger steps like moving out or buying. (Again, the data shows economic milestones are leading the pack.)

6) Respect different timelines and keep hope high.

Lower marriage rates in the early and late 20s don’t mean “never.” Many catch up later, and plenty thrive on these flexible timelines. Your belief in their future matters, whether they’re 19 or 29. 

7) Watch well-being.

Transitions are stressful. Notice changes in sleep, mood, or motivation. Offer help finding a counselor, campus support, or community group. Solid mental health makes the rest of adulthood more reachable. 

The bottom line is today’s young adults aren’t failing at adulthood; they’re re-sequencing it. The new Census data shows fewer are doing everything at once, and more are securing work and housing first. Our job as parents, mentors, and neighbors is to help them build skills, find opportunities, and keep connections strong so the other milestones—marriage, parenting, homeownership if they choose them—are within reach.

My two-year-old thinks adulthood means getting to pick her own snack. My six-year-old thinks it means staying up past bedtime. Honestly? Some days that still tracks.

But with our steady support, our young adults can do more than “adult.” They can thrive.

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

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The Low Down on Mental Health, Stress and Family Genetics

My brother and I had a lengthy conversation this week about mental health. We both work in what I’ll call “high-impact” jobs, though they seem worlds apart.

Some days, coping and processing the stress can feel like mental gymnastics, flipping and stretching the capacities of our mental health. 

According to a 2016 meta-analysis on mental health and families, the way we feel and deal with stress is part genetically inclined and part learned behavior. Does this mean we’re doomed from the start? 

Not at all, but the more you recognize your actions and identify thoughts and behaviors you’d like to shift, the more likely you can transform the cycle for yourself and others.

First, the genetics.

Think of genes like a blueprint, not a verdict. As I mentioned before, research on twins shows that depression and many anxiety disorders are partly inherited; roughly a third to a half of the risk comes from our DNA. That sounds scary until you remember the other half is about life, habits, and help. Genes can load the dice, but they don’t decide the roll.

Now, the relationships.

Kids learn how to “do” emotions and deal with stressful situations by watching us. When we name feelings, stay steady, and coach them through tough moments, kids tend to have fewer symptoms of anxiety and depression. When we’re harsh, dismissive, or always rush in to rescue, it can keep worries alive. One recent study even showed that a parent-only program where moms and dads learned how to respond more supportively and stepped back from “over-accommodating” reduced children’s anxiety as much as traditional child therapy. Parents matter (which is equal parts empowering and humbling, I know).

Stress can echo across generations, too.

Adverse Childhood Experiences, things like abuse, neglect, or living with a parent who’s seriously struggling, raise the risk for anxiety and depression later on. That doesn’t mean a child is doomed. It does mean safe, stable, nurturing relationships are medicine. The more we can make home predictable, warm, and firm-but-kind, the more we turn down the volume on risk.

And yes, the body keeps the score.

Here’s a simple illustration of how our genetics affect our mental health: life can act like a dimmer switch on our genes. Chronic stress can nudge some genes “brighter” or “dimmer” without changing the DNA code itself. That sounds heavy, but there’s hope in it—healthy routines, supportive relationships, and good skills to cope can move those dimmers back to bright.

So what do we do with all this?

If you’re struggling, start with you.

When a parent gets effective care, kids benefit. Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) has a strong track record for both depression and anxiety. If in-person sessions are hard to manage, ask your doctor about guided online CBT options. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about getting access to tools and using them.

Make feelings part of normal life at home.

Use simple, honest language: “My chest feels tight. I’m going to take three slow breaths—want to try with me?” Regular check-ins on a daily basis are helpful. Ask for one high, one low, and one gratitude at dinner and turn the conversation into a tiny support group. Programs that help parents talk openly about a parent’s depression or anxiety have been shown to improve how families function and how kids feel. Silence is scarier than the truth.

Help anxious kids by changing how you respond.

It’s natural to “save” a worried child from hard things: you email the teacher, cancel the sleepover, skip the tryouts. Sometimes that helps short-term, but it can feed anxiety long-term. A supportive stance sounds like, “I see you’re scared, and I know you can do hard things. I’m here to help you practice.” Step by step (and yes, sometimes with tears), kids build courage.

Protect the basics: sleep and movement.

Tired brains are cranky brains. Consistent bedtimes, phones out of bedrooms, and a calm wind-down routine help everyone. And regular movement like walking, biking, and dance parties in the kitchen, has real, measurable benefits for mood. You don’t need a gym membership to help your nervous system breathe.

Parent with warmth and structure.

The parenting style that research suggests works best is called authoritative: clear rules, consistent follow-through, and plenty of warmth. Think steady schedules, predictable consequences, and lots of affection. You can be kind and firm at the same time. (Honestly, that’s the secret sauce.)

If your family is in a hard spot today, please know help is available. For everyday support, reach out to your primary care clinician, your child’s pediatrician, or a trusted counselor. First Things First would love to help you through coaching and family support. You are not alone in this.

Here’s the heart of it: mental health issues such as anxiety and depression can echo through families, but echoes fade when we change the dynamics of the room. Awareness first. Skills help. Routines soothe. Relationships heal. Start small. Keep it kind. And celebrate every tiny win. Those are the bricks that create a stronger foundation in you and build a healthier next generation.

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

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7 Stress‑Saving Steps for a Smooth Back‑to‑School Launch

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.

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When and How to Discuss Tragedies With Your Children

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.

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