Sometimes, your child has a friend over, and things don’t go well.

That happened at our house recently. For the first hour of the visit, I heard heated voices, and finally, my child reported that the friends just could not get along. We sat for a while, working to come up with something they could both enjoy (besides “baking and frosting cookies,” but nice try), and eventually we did, but it was still an afternoon marked by constant tussles and not much fun.

When I dropped the friend off, my fellow mother came out onto the driveway. “How’d it go?”

I had been thinking about that moment the whole ride over. Should I say something? What? I didn’t want to damage the children’s friendship, which I perceived as slightly battered but certainly not broken. And I didn’t want to damage our friendship, either.

When things go wrong between your child and another on your watch, is it your job to give the other parent the play-by-play? Silence is generally golden in this instance, Andrea Nair, psychotherapist and parenting educator, said. “I don’t talk to the other parent unless it was something I really couldn’t handle, or unless it’s at the point where I”m going to stop inviting the child over.” Even then, she said, if the relationship isn’t close, the best tactic may be just to say, “Our children aren’t really getting along any more.” These are conversations that can too easily go wrong, as parents get defensive.

If you do need to talk to the other parent, Ms. Nair suggests a neutral, problem-solving approach: “Here’s what happened today, here’s how I handled it. Is that O.K. with you?” Or: “Our kids seem to be having trouble together. Can we come up with something to try next time?”

In this case, I decided to put it out there — not because we hadn’t handled it, or even because it had been that bad, but because my friend had asked, on several other occasions, if I would please tell her if there were problems. Because I knew (after several years’ acquaintance) that she meant it. And because I have a child who has more than once been returned from a friend’s house by a fellow parent with a shell-shocked expression — and never asked over again. I’d rather know (and in truth, I already know, but specifics can help), and I suspected my friend felt the same way.

Fortunately, I was right. We had a good laugh over the whole thing, and parted with some good strategies on both sides. But I still had to take a deep breath before plunging into that conversation.

That’s probably a good thing. Sometimes it’s tempting for parents to hash over every incident between friends, and sometimes our motives are not so clear. If what you’re saying isn’t “I really don’t know what to do, and I’d like our children to stay friends,” then it might come across as “do you know what a jerk your child can be?” or worse, “why haven’t you taught your kid better?” And if you’re not really looking for solutions, that might really be what you’re saying. That’s not a conversation that is ever going to end well.

The best practice? Have these conversations only when it would be more difficult, in the long run, if you didn’t have them. When that’s the case, don’t avoid the conversation or the other family. It may be awkward at first, Ms. Nair said, “but you’ll probably recover.” If we try to keep a spirit of collaboration alive, we dramatically increase the odds that both friendships will survive as well.

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“When they were fighting over ownership of something I would say ‘Jacob, say… ‘Excuse me Sarah, when you’re finished may I have a turn please?’’ and then wait for him to repeat my words. And then I would turn to Sarah and say ‘Sarah, say… ‘Sure, Jacob.’ I did this many, many, many times and then one day to my delight I was cooking dinner and overheard them use these exact words unprompted to resolve an issue… It was a proud moment : )” – Deanne

How do children learn social and emotional intelligence skills? Practice, practice, practice. Parents have to explain, model, and repeat themselves, over and over. It can seem endless. But there are ways to help children learn faster, by taking advantage of the problems that come up in every family on a daily basis. Next time there’s a problem, think of it as a teachable moment.

1. Talk about feelings. Research shows that when parents reflect with their children about what everyone in the family feels and needs, children become more sensitive and emotionally generous to others, as well as more likely to understand another’s point of view. This is true even when children are very young; when mothers talk to their toddlers about what the baby might be feeling, the toddler develops more empathy for the baby and is less jealous. Questions work better than lectures: “I wonder why she’s crying? What do you think she needs?”

2. Ask questions about feelings, needs, wants, and choices. Any time your child makes a poor choice, you can ask questions to help him learn from his experience. Be sure to keep the exchange low-key; no one can learn when they feel on the defensive. These kinds of questions are useful from toddlerhood (when your child grabs a toy from a friend) right through the teen years (when your kid gets drunk with his buddies). You don’t have to use all these questions. You’re just helping your child reflect on what drove him to make his choice, and how that choice worked out for him.

• “How did you feel?”
• “What did you want?”
• “What did you do?”
• “How did that work out?”
• “Did you get what you wanted?”
• “Did the other person get what he wanted?”
• “How do you think he felt?”
• “Would you do the same thing next time, or do you think you might try something different?”
• “What do you think you might try?”
• “What might happen then?”

Listen, nod, repeat to be sure you understand. Stay warm and non-judgmental. Keep your sense of humor, so when your child says “Next time I’ll smash him!” you can simply answer “Hmmm….what might happen then?” Try not to jump in to evaluate or lecture. Reflection is how children develop integrity and judgment. Good judgment often develops from bad experience.

3. Model “I” statements, which means expressing what you need, rather than judging or attacking someone else.  So, for instance, when your child says “Well, you’re stupid, too!” to her friend, you might teach her to say “I don’t like it when you call me names.”

One formula for “I” statements is to describe what you feel, what you need, and how you see the situation. You might follow that up with a request that the other person take a specific action. “I feel______ because I want (or need) _________and I observe that _________.” So, for instance,

“I feel worried because I want to get there on time and I see that you aren’t ready to leave yet….Please put on your shoes.”

4. Model pro-social behavior. The way the adults in the home relate to each other sets a powerful example for the children. Use that to your advantage by role-playing how you’d like your children to treat each other. For instance, you might say to your partner “There’s only one banana left, shall we split it?”  Or model how to set limits respectfully, by saying to your partner “Excuse me, I was using that. You can have it as soon as I’m done” with a smile and a hug.

5. Don’t expect to be perfect, and don’t expect your child to be. Once we let go of being right and aim for being love instead, we get a lot more perfect. Talk at dinner about a mistake you made today. Open up room for your child to admit mistakes and repair. Model apologizing and self-forgiveness. You’ll see everyone in your family becoming more emotionally generous.

Of course, you’ll still have to repeat yourself incessantly. But you’ll raise a human who can advocate for his or her own needs while respecting the needs of others. That’s the kind of person we need more of in the world.  And it’s worth a little repetition.

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When our kids get angry, it pushes buttons for most of us.  We’re not perfect, but we try to be loving parents.  Why is our child lashing out like this?

Many parents send an angry child to her room to “calm down.”  After all, what else can we do? We certainly can’t reason with her when she’s furious. It’s no time to teach lessons or ask for an apology. She needs to calm down.

If we send him to his room, he will indeed calm down, eventually. He’ll also have gotten a clear message that his anger is unacceptable, and that he’s on his own when it comes to managing his big scary feelings–we don’t know how to help him. He won’t have worked through whatever led to his anger. Instead, he’ll have stuffed the anger, so it’s no longer under conscious control, and will burst out again soon. No wonder so many of us develop anger-management issues, whether that means we yell at our kids, throw tantrums with our spouse, or overeat to avoid acknowledging angry feelings.

What can we do instead? We can help our kids learn to manage their anger responsibly. That begins with accepting anger — without acting on it.

This is one of the most critical tasks of childhood–learning to tolerate the wounds of everyday life without moving into reactive anger. People who can do this are able to resolve challenges more constructively. We call them emotionally intelligent.

Kids learn emotional intelligence when we teach them that all their feelings are okay, but it’s their job to control their actions. How?

When your child gets angry:

1. Take a deep breath. Remind yourself that there is no emergency.  Keep yourself from moving into fight or flight. This will help calm your child, and model emotional regulation.

2. Remind yourself that tantrums are nature’s way of helping small people let off steam.  Their brains are still developing and they don’t yet have the neural pathways to control themselves as we do.  (And please note that we don’t always regulate our anger very well, even as adults!)

The best way to help children develop those neural pathways is to offer empathy, while they’re angry and at other times. It’s ok–good, actually–for your child to express those tangled, angry, hurt feelings. After we support kids through a tantrum, they feel closer to us and more trusting.  They feel less wound-up inside, so they can be more emotionally generous. They aren’t as rigid and demanding.

3. Remember that anger comes from our “fight, flight or freeze” response. That means it’s a defense against threat. Occasionally that threat is outside us, for instance, when a big brother knocks down a block tower. But usually it isn’t. We see threats outside us because we’re carrying around old stuffed emotions like hurt, fear or sadness. Whatever’s happening in the moment triggers those old feelings, and we go into fight mode to try to stuff them down again.

Losses and disappointments can feel like the end of the world to a child, and kids will do anything to fend off these intolerable feelings, so they cry and rage and lash out.  If they feel safe expressing their anger,  and we meet that anger with compassion, their anger will begin to melt.  That’s when they can access the more upsetting feelings underneath.

So while we accept our child’s anger, it isn’t the anger that is healing.  It’s the expression of the tears and fears beneath the anger that washes out the hurt and sadness and makes the anger vanish, because it’s no longer necessary as a defense.

4. Don’t talk except to empathize and reassure her that she’s safe. Don’t try to teach, reason or explain. When she’s awash in adrenaline and other fight or flight reactions is not the time to explain why she can’t have what she wants, or get her to admit that she actually loves her little sister. Just acknowledge how upset she is: “You are so upset about this…I’m sorry it’s so hard.”

5. Set whatever limits are necessary to keep everyone safe, while acknowledging the anger and staying compassionate. “You’re so mad! You can be as mad as you want, but hitting is not ok, no matter how upset you are.  You can stomp to show me how mad you are, but I won’t let you hit me.” 

6. Set limits on actions only, not on feelings.  The more compassionate you can be, the more likely your child will find his way to the tears and fears under the anger: “Oh, Sweetie, I’m sorry this is so hard…You’re saying I never understand you…that must feel so terrible and lonely.”  You don’t have to agree or argue. Just acknowledge his truth in the moment.Once he feels heard, his truth will shift.

7. Keep yourself safe.  Kids often benefit from pushing against us, so if you can tolerate it and stay compassionate, that’s fine to allow. But if your child is hitting you, move away. If she pursues you, hold her wrist and say “I don’t think I want that angry fist so close to me.  I see how angry you are.  You can hit the pillow I’m holding, or push against my hands, but I won’t let you hurt me.”  Kids don’t really want to hurt us — it scares them and makes them feel guilty. Most of the time, when we move into compassion and they feel heard, kids stop hitting us and start crying.

8. Stay as close as you can.  Your child needs an accepting witness who loves him even when he’s angry.  If you need to move away to stay safe, tell him “I won’t let you hurt me, so I’m moving back a bit, but I am right here. Whenever you’re ready for a hug, I’m right here.” If he yells at you to “Go away!” say “You’re telling me to go away, so I am moving back a step, ok?  I won’t leave you alone with these scary feelings, but I will move back.”

9. Don’t try to evaluate whether he’s over-reacting.  Of course he’s over-reacting! But remember that children experience daily hurts and fears that they can’t verbalize and that we don’t even notice.  They store them up and then look for an opportunity to “discharge” them.  So if your kid has a meltdown over the blue cup and you really can’t go right now to get the red cup out of the car, it’s ok to just lovingly welcome his meltdown. Most of the time, it wasn’t about the blue cup, or whatever he’s demanding. When children get whiny and impossible to please, they usually just need to cry.

10. Acknowledging her anger will help her calm down a bit. Then help her get under the anger by softening yourself.  If you can really feel compassion for this struggling young person, she’ll feel it and respond. Don’t analyze, just empathize.  “You really wanted that; I’m so sorry, Sweetie.” Once you recognize the feelings under the anger, she will probably pause and stop lashing out. You’ll see some vulnerability or even tears.  You can help her surface those feelings by focusing again–repeatedly–on the original trigger:  “I’m so sorry you can’t have the _____ you want, Sweetie. I’m sorry this is so hard.”  When our loving compassion meets her wound, that’s when she collapses into our arms for a good cry. And all those upset feelings evaporate.

11. AFTER he’s calmed down, you can talk. Don’t start by lecturing. Tell a story to help him put this big wave of emotion in context. “Those were some big feelings…everyone needs to cry sometimes…You wanted….I said no…You were very disappointed…You got so angry….Under the anger, you were so sad and disappointed….Thank you for showing me how you felt….”  If he just wants to change the subject, let him. You can circle back to bring closure later in the day or at bedtime, while you’re snuggling.

12. What about teaching? You don’t have to do as much as you think. Your child knows what she did was wrong. It was those big feelings that made her feel like it was an emergency, and necessary to break the rule. By helping her with the emotions, you’re making a repeat infraction less likely.

Wait until after the emotional closure, and then keep it simple. Recognize that part of her wants to make a better choice next time, and align with that part. Be sure to give her a chance to practice a better solution to her problem. “When we get really angry, like you were angry at your sister, we forget how much we love the other person. They look like they’re our enemy. Right? You were so very mad at her. We all get mad like that and when we are very mad, we feel like hitting. But if we do, later we’re sorry that we hurt someone. We wish we could have used our words. What could you have said or done, instead of hitting?”

Accepting emotions like this is the beginning of resilience. Gradually, your child will internalize the ability to weather disappointment, and learn that while he can’t always get what he wants, he can always get something better — someone who loves and accepts all of him, including the yucky parts like rage and disappointment. He’ll have learned that emotions aren’t dangerous–they can be tolerated without acting on them, and they pass. Gradually, he’ll learn to to verbalize his feelings even when he’s furious.

You’ll have taught him how to manage his emotions.  And you’ll have strengthened, rather than eroded, your bond with him.  All by taking a deep breath and staying compassionate in the face of rage.  Sounds saintly, I know, and you won’t always be able to pull it off.  But every time you do, you’ll be making a small miracle.

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In our family, ’tis the season for flu shots; in every family, shots happen — at nearly every trip to the doctor until age 4, and at intervals thereafter. Rare is the child who looks forward to the appearance of the needle, but there are things parents can do to make the experience of getting a shot easier, and reduce a child’s anxiety before the fact, and in anticipation of the next shot.

Amy Baxter, a pediatric emergency physician, pain researcher and the inventor of Buzzy, a reusable, natural personal pain relief device, has dedicated the second half of her career to preventing and relieving needle fear in children. “For most kids, needle fear comes from a traumatic experience between ages 4 and 6,” she says. Some children develop anxiety around shots even earlier. “Children who fear needles grow up to be adults who don’t get flu shots or update their own vaccinations, are less likely to donate blood, and in really severe cases, refuse insulin or delay diagnosis because they’re afraid to go for regular checkups.”

Dr. Baxter suggested 12 things parents can do to help prevent a child from developing a fear of needles, or help a child who is already fearful.

1. Don’t threaten. “You’d be surprised how many parents come to the doctor’s office and say to their child, ‘if you’re not good, you’re going to get a shot!’”

2. Don’t lie. Don’t tell your child “it won’t hurt,” or assure her that you “love getting shots” or lie about whether a shot is in the offing before or during a pediatric visit.

3. Do be warm, but matter-of-fact. Listen to the concerns of your child, but don’t leave the door open for any possibility of not getting a shot. Say, “I know you’re afraid, but we can make this easier.”

4. Do make a plan if your child is already anxious. Talk with your child about what you’re going to do if she needs an injection. Consider topical anesthetic or bringing distraction materials. Practice taking deep breaths.

5. Do use distractions. Counting and visual activities are the most effective. Look for phone or tablet games where children need to move or find things. Count ceiling tiles, or how many letters there are in a sentence.

6. Do offer sweets. For infants and younger children in particular, nursing or drinking cold apple juice right when they get the shot stimulates oral distraction. Older children can have something they don’t usually have as a treat during the injection.

7. Do try a topical anesthetic. Apply, then put Glad Press ‘n Seal over the medication — it really sticks to skin.
You can also give ibuprofen an hour before the visit.

8. Do sit up. When young children are sitting on a parent’s lap, they show less distress over a shot than when they’re held down and lying flat. A good position for an anxious child is straddling a parent’s lap in a hug.

9. Do space out shots if that makes sense for your child. The more successful shots, the less afraid they’ll be later. For some children it makes sense to do shots one at a time.

10. Do invite your child’s participation. Did the topical anesthetic or the distraction help? What could you do next time?

11. Do ask about shot order. For young children, distress is less if they get the least painful shot first. For adolescents, the more painful shot should come first.

12. Finally, do speak up. Advocate for your children, Dr. Baxter says. Ask for time to help your child, ask to hold or nurse your child. Many pediatric offices just want to get the shots done as fast as possible, but it’s important that children have a positive experience now, so that they’re more likely to have a good health care experience for the rest of their lives.

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The homework wars among education wonks, teachers and parents don’t, as my friend and colleague Bruce Feiler writes in “The Homework Squabbles,” his This Life column for Sunday Styles, matter much on the scale at which most families are dealing with homework. To us, the question of how valuable homework is has to be set aside daily in the name of the backpacks, folders, binders and worksheets full of the stuff that our children actually bring home. And it’s worth noting that this idea of “too much homework” as a national problem is a myth. Instead, homework is something of an ironic twist in the American inequality story, with the more pressing problem being with the children who have too little rather than those who have too much.

But for the privileged families to whom homework unquestionably does not feel like a privilege (and mine is one of them), the mechanics of how to get the homework done loom large. Especially at this time of year, as parents and students are getting back into the groove of homework, questions of when and how and where can make us feel like we’re once again reinventing the homework wheel. That’s true at my house. In spite of a long-standing hands-off approach, and an attempt to set timers to focus my younger children on staying on task while limiting the time homework takes, homework is really wreaking havoc on our afternoons and evenings.

Bruce pulled together advice from experts and from parents whose experience makes them expert on everything from the when and where of homework to how involved a parent should be. How is the self-reliance we all hope our children will achieve best encouraged? What kind of help motivates, and what kind is too much? Is there any defense for the beloved teenage (and adult) habit of multitasking? Their answers are worth reading.

In spite of our timers (which we’re using more when necessary than as a habit, with two children relying more on them than others), and in spite of the fact that at the moment, homework is feeling like an instrument of torture designed to destroy my relationship with my two younger children, homework mechanics at our house haven’t changed much this year, and they won’t. It’s done in the kitchen unless you’d prefer to go elsewhere, or unless your method of objecting to the homework you’ve been given is detrimental to the ability of others to do theirs. Need help? I help sound out spelling on difficult words, but your teacher doesn’t want to know what I’ve learned through research about horse hooves. Frustrated with how much there is? I sing one song again and again in many keys: If you put the time into doing the homework that you’ve put into complaining about it, you’d be done by now. Just put one foot in front of the other, my friend.

Right now, two weeks in, it feels like I’ll be repeating myself all year. Like we’ll never pass another evening without a child strewn across the floor of the kitchen, screaming “but it’s too hard” or somehow managing to spend 90 minutes copying 20 spelling words 3 times each. Like every night, the homework, timers or no, will drag on past dinner, past soccer practice, toward bedtime and beyond.

But I’m relying on the curative powers of time and habit to work their magic. I know that what takes over an hour now will take far less time once my children stop spinning their pencils and get down to it. I know that once she knows it isn’t going to help, the child will get up off the floor and get it done. And I know that the homework habit, timers or no, takes time to develop.

We go through this every September. Some things change, some thing stay the same. The second grader who could gaze into space for hours at our house turned into the fifth grader who could buckle down, but couldn’t plan, who eventually turned into the eighth grader who knows that if it’s due next week, now’s the time to start, even if he doesn’t always pull it off. He still has plenty of room to improve, but he will. His siblings, I hope, will follow, but it doesn’t have to happen — it isn’t going to happen — today, or even this week.

What will happen is that the mechanics, like everything else, will evolve along with the children and the year. Some nights homework will progress in an orderly fashion in the kitchen; other nights someone will be stuck doing it in the lobby of a hockey rink. Some projects will happen in a timely way, others will be left until the last minute. Some homework will be a child’s best work. Some won’t be done at all.

When things go wrong‚ and they will, I’ll fall back on this: Learning to deal with your mistakes and roll with the things you can’t control is an important lesson. The one thing I know about homework at our house is that it’s pretty much guaranteed to offer my kids the opportunity to learn it.

Note: The original post stated that the author’s children were capable of spending 90 minutes copying 20 spelling words 30 times each. They have never been assigned so much; they are asked to copy the words 3 times each.

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“Make sure you play fairly,” parents often say to their kids. In fact, children do not need encouragement to be fair. It is a natural feature of human social life, which emerges in childhood. When given the opportunity to share sweets equally, young children tend to behave selfishly but, by about eight years old, most prefer to distribute resources to avoid inequalities, at least among members of their own social group.

Biologists are surprised by this tendency to behave fairly. The theory of evolution by natural selection predicts that individuals should behave in ways to maximize their inclusive fitness. So behaviors are only selected, and hence evolve, if they ensure the survival and reproduction of the actor or kin who contains copies of the actor’s genes. However, the behavior displayed by children seems to be at a detriment to themselves, especially when those who benefit from their selfless behavior are not the children’s kin.

A child’s sense of fairness, egalitarianism, or aversion to inequality can actually be hampered by instruction to “be fair” and rewarding of this behavior. That is because what is the child’s intrinsic motivation, becomes a need to follow externally imposed rules. And, as we all know, following rules we believe in is far easier than following rules that are imposed upon us, despite attendant punishments for not doing so.

Humans are proactively pro-social. We are often motivated to help others without those others signaling their need, such as begging, or displaying signs of need, such as crying.

As cultural practices are not responsible for children developing their initial pro-social tendencies, it is thought that a sense of fairness must have been under strong positive selection during human evolution.

In a new review published in the journal Science, Sarah Brosnan of Georgia State University and Frans de Waal of Emory University explore this topic by trying to explain how our response to fairness, and unfairness, evolved. Their review is based on a large number of studies with non-human animals regarding their responses to receiving more or less (inequity), rather than the same (equity), reward as others for undertaking the same task.

Species of primates, dogs, birds and fish have been studied. The overall results indicate that responses to disadvantageous inequity, say, protesting when another receives more banana pieces than you for pulling the same rope, are strongest in species that co-operate with others outside of mating and kinship bonds. This includes capuchin monkeys, chimpanzees and the ancestors of dogs. In other words, animals, including humans, that cooperate with non-kin have evolved sensitivity to detrimental unfairness so that they can avoid being taken advantage of.

However, what is less common in the animal kingdom, is sensitivity to advantageous inequity, or protest when you receive more reward than another for the same task. Such inequity aversion, at a cost to oneself, has only been recorded in humans and chimpanzees.

Brosnan and de Waal propose that the motivation to seek equal rewards, despite disadvantaging oneself, is to prevent dissatisfaction of the co-operative partner and avoid any negative outcomes that may follow. The main negative outcomes are the likelihood of conflict and loss of future advantageous co-operation with the partner.

Also, one’s reputation is tainted, reducing the chances of forming future beneficial partnerships. When we humans “play fair” we are doing so, according to Brosnan and de Waal, not due to a motivation for “equality for its own sake but for the sake of continued cooperation”.

Humans have enlarged brains, which enhance our ability to understand the benefits of self-control in dividing resources. We also have language, which allows for enhanced reputation building. Because responsiveness to advantageous inequity is only seen in humans and chimpanzees, Brosnan and de Waal hypothesise that its evolution, since the split from other primates, was the starting point for the eventual development of the advanced sense of fairness displayed by humans.

The many heroic and selfless actions of individual humans, for example rescuing strangers in mortal danger and money or blood donation, are inspiring and admirable. Yet, however distasteful to contemplate, it is likely that these individuals gain in terms of their reputation and future cooperation from others, known as indirect reciprocity. If extreme prosociality is a “costly signal” indicating one’s worth to future mates, it makes sense that highly visible individuals, such as celebrities, may feel the most pressure to act charitably.

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My five-year-old daughter flipped out this morning when she learned that she needed to get a blood test. While I’m not a big fan of tearful wailing at 8:00 AM, I have to admit that flipping out is a perfectly reasonable response to the thought of having a complete stranger stick a needle in your arm. Especially when you’re just five years old.

We’ve been through our fair share of flip-outs, and they usually end with some variation of either snuggles or shouts (from both of us), but this time I tried something new. Perhaps it’s because I actually got eight hours of sleep last night, or perhaps it’s because I’m working on a new book about teaching mindfulness to children, but I actually had an idea.

Earlier this morning, my daughter has asked me if I had meditated after I woke up, and it just so happens that I had, so I knew meditation was on her mind. As she sat at the dining room table, sobbing into her cereal, I told her that one reason I meditate is so I can practice choosing my thoughts, so I can get better at keeping the ones I want and getting ride of the ones I don’t.

This may seem like a pretty basic idea, but it was absolutely life-changing for me—a clinical social worker who was trained to believe that our thoughts are deeply meaningful and must be examined in great detail—to learn that thoughts are just thoughts. Perhaps they are random firings of neurons, monkeys flinging shit around our brain, or divine insights; regardless, no one knows where they come from, what their purpose is, or how to control them. They’re only as important as we let them be and we certainly don’t have to let them define our experience. We are not our thoughts, and we don’t have to assign them any more or less meaning than we want to. This is a fundamental concept in mindfulness, which is all about paying attention in a conscious, curious way, which often involves letting go of judgmental or unskillful thoughts.

For better or for worse, I decided it was time to introduce this idea to my daughter. It seemed to spark a little interest in her, but she wasn’t sure if knew how to get rid of the bad or sad or mad thoughts. We talked about sending them away, perhaps in a car that would drive them down the road, or a boat that would float away on a river. She seemed to like this idea, so she hopped out of her seat and got out my meditation cushion to give it a shot. (Meanwhile, my 4 year old announced that she was going to eat the bad thoughts. I wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea until my older daughter decided she had to pee, at which point my husband chimed in that perhaps the girls could, in fact, eat their bad thoughts and then flush them down the toilet. Not exactly the metaphor I was going for, but I have to admit it works.)

I’d love to tell you that my clever plan to teach my daughter to choose her thoughts worked flawlessly, but let’s be honest here, people. She’s just a kid with a still-developing brain and the coping skills of a five-year-old. I’m 36 with a well-developed brain (or so I like to think) and moderately decent coping skills, and I still struggle to recognize and let go of my unskillful or unhelpful thoughts. She still had a rough morning in anticipation of the blood draw.

The point of my conversation with her about choosing thoughts wasn’t to solve the immediate problem of her desire not to have a needle stuck in her arm. I knew that was going to have to happen, and I knew that no matter what, she was going to be seriously pissed and scared about it. (Which is why I asked my husband to take her to the lab; knowing what you can manage what you should outsource is another important skill of mindful parenting.) Rather, my goal this morning was to introduce the idea that our thoughts don’t have to define our reality. I was just trying to plant some seeds of mindful thinking in my daughter’s consciousness, with the hope that at some point they will eventually sprout and grow.

Of course, the other point was to get her to stop crying long enough so I could get some coffee down my gullet, which I actually was able to do. As I always say: in the absence of mindfulness, caffeine and chocolate.

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When Harvard University’s Making Caring Common Project released their report, “The Children We Mean to Raise: The Real Messages Adults Are Sending About Values,” many parents and educators — myself included — were surprised to learn that despite all our talk about instilling character and empathy, kids may value academic achievement and individual happiness over caring for others. In the report, the authors explained that the children’s values reflected what they believe adults value.

In the wake of these dispiriting study results, the Making Caring Common Project and the Ashoka Empathy Initiative created a set of recommendations for teaching empathy to children.

Empathy goes beyond being able to see another person’s point of view, Rick Weissbourd, the co-director of the Making Caring Common Project, explained in an email. He points out that sales people, politicians, actors and marketers are able to do this kind of “perspective-taking” in pursuit of their professional goals. Con men and torturers use this ability to manipulate their victims for personal gain. In order to be truly empathetic, children need to learn more than simple perspective-taking; they need to know how to value, respect and understand another person’s views, even when they don’t agree with them. Empathy, Mr. Weissbourd argues, is a function of both compassion and of seeing from another person’s perspective, and is the key to preventing bullying and other forms of cruelty.

To that end, the project offers these five suggestions for developing empathy in children:

1. Empathize with your child and model how to feel compassion for others.

Kids develop these qualities by watching us and experiencing our empathy for them. When we show that we truly know our children by understanding and reacting to their emotional needs, exhibiting interest and involvement in their lives, and respecting their personalities, they feel valued. Children who feel valued are more likely to value others and demonstrate respect for their needs. When we treat other people like they matter, our kids notice, and are more likely to emulate our acts of caring and compassion.

2. Make caring for others a priority and set high ethical expectations.

Kids need to know that we are not simply paying lip service to empathy, that we show caring and compassion in our everyday lives. Rather than say, “The most important thing is that you are happy,” try: “The most important thing is that you’re kind and that you are happy.” Prioritize caring when you talk about others, and help your child understand that the world does not revolve around them or their needs.

3. Provide opportunities for children to practice.

Empathy, like other emotional skills, requires repitition to become second nature. Hold family meetings and involve kids by challenging them to listen to and respect others’ perspectives. Ask children about conflicts at school and help them reflect on their classmates’ experiences. If another child is unpopular or having social problems, talk about how that child may be feeling about the situation, and ask your child how he or she may be able help.

4. Expand your child’s circle of concern.

It’s not hard for kids to empathize with their immediate family and close friends, but it can be a real challenge to understand and feel for people outside of that circle. You can help your child expand their circle by “zooming in and zooming out”; listening carefully to a particular person and then pulling back to take in multiple perspectives. Encourage your child to talk about and speculate on the feelings of people who are particularly vulnerable or in need. Talk about how those people could be helped and comforted.

5. Help children develop self-control and manage feelings effectively.

Even when kids feel empathy for others, societal pressures and prejudices can block their ability to express their concern. When kids are angry with each other over a perceived slight, for example, it can be a real challenge for them to engage their sense of empathy. Encourage kids to name those stereotypes and prejudices, and to talk about their anger, envy, shame and other negative emotions. Model conflict resolution and anger management in your own actions, and let your kids see you work through challenging feelings in your own life.

Educators will tell you that a classroom full of empathetic kids simply runs more smoothly than one filled with even the happiest group of self-serving children. Similarly, family life is more harmonious when siblings are able feel for each other and put the needs of others ahead of individual happiness. If a classroom or a family full of caring children makes for a more peaceful and cooperative learning environment, just imagine what we could accomplish in a world populated by such children.

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‘Tis the season of chore-time slackerdom.

School is starting again, practice for fall sports is in full swing, and, inevitably, it’s simply no longer possible for children of any age to empty the dishwasher or take out the garbage. There, like, just isn’t enough time, and what parent has the time to police them anyway?

So here’s a motivational solution from Julie Clarke, a mother of two in San Jose, Calif.: Pay for performance. In her house, she and her husband hand out $40 a month to each of their two daughters when they do an adequate job. But Katherine, who is 12, and Lauren, 8, can earn $60 each if they exceed expectations or they can receive $20 or even nothing at all if there’s a lot of reminding and whining along the way.

I have never been a fan of paying kids to do chores. To me, chores are something that everyone in the household should do in exchange for getting to live there. If the parents don’t get paid, then the children shouldn’t either. Allowance is something altogether separate to my mind — a way to teach kids how to use money.

Polls of American parents have repeatedly shown that the vast majority of mothers and fathers don’t see it this way. Which is all well and good until the kids decide they don’t need any more money, and the parents have to decide whether to excuse them from all the chores they then refuse to do.

But this hasn’t happened in the Clarke household yet. If you don’t think it would happen in yours, given the amount of stuff your kids will want to buy over time and the list of things you make them pay for themselves, then the Clarke compensation system is worth testing in your home.

Here’s how it works:

First, the list of chores: Make the bed, get the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and be ready for school on time. In the afternoon, empty the lunchboxes, refill the water bottles and walk, feed and clean up after the family’s Maltese-poodle mix. (Mom and Dad spare the girls the task of deer and wild turkey excrement removal.) Other duties include emptying the dishwasher, helping with dinner, folding and putting away laundry, and practicing piano. The girls split walking and cleaning duties for the dog, and at dinner one tends to help with prep and the other with cleaning.

Ms. Clarke and her husband came up with the system for two reasons. “I don’t have the time, patience or capacity to manage every single thing they do,” she said. “I was never the mommy with a sticker chart for peeing in the potty or the one who gave points for doing chores. I wanted a holistic approach to the month.”

She also had distinct memories of the first time an employer evaluated her. “It’s a hard lesson to learn when you go into the work force. `What do you mean I’m not getting a great bonus?!’ ” she said. “I want them to learn this earlier rather than later.”

The biggest evaluative factor is attitude, especially given that Katherine is on her way to becoming a teenager. The need for nagging, or lack thereof, is high on the list as well. Being proactive wins special notice too, like when Lauren picked up the slack when Katherine had surgery. It was nice of her, though perhaps it wasn’t entirely selfless. “She was totally working it,” Ms. Clarke recalled, laughing.

The girls get feedback throughout the month, as needed. Eye-rolling, drama or the need for frequent reminders will lead to a verbal warning that the payout is trending downward. The results tend to be evenly spaced too, with the pair earning $40 each about half the time and getting the bonus or the lowest amount 25 percent of the time each. They don’t always get the same amount, and occasionally they get nothing if the month has been particularly rough. Their father, Gary, a true-to-form geometry teacher, wonders if a mapping diagram for proper chore completion might improve their success rate.

So far, the family’s approach has not proven enormously popular beyond its own walls. Ms. Clarke, who works in marketing for a technology company, mentioned it at a parenting workshop once, and the people in the room didn’t quite take to it. Some of them said that it could never work for them, since their kids simply won’t do their chores unless a parent is hovering and constantly reminding them, bonuses or not.

Others didn’t like the idea of posting chore scores as if they were ice-skating judges. “I remember one mother who said she could never do it, and I know her two boys, and I can tell that one is going to be a lawyer and one is going to be in sales,” Ms. Clarke said. “I would start them right now based on those personalities. They’ve already learned how to work their mom so well.”

Some parents may question the size of the Clarke kids’ allowance, given that it amounts to nearly $15 a week during high-performance months. But the Clarke adults budget only for the after-school and summer activities they can afford and require the girls to spring for the rest. Katherine, for instance, pays for half a week at overnight camp.

Lauren, who’s a gymnast, recently split the cost of a used mat with her parents, drawing from the $1,200 she had saved. And if she wants to take extra lessons aside from the one per week that her parents pay for, it’s on her. “It’s going to be about $100 per month, which she can afford, so she has to decide whether she really wants to do it,” Julie said. “I think it’s a pretty good question for an 8-year-old to have to answer.”

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A year ago, I committed what is known as a “mom fail” (basically any false move committed during the act of mothering). Preparing my then-2½-year-old son to go out in the morning for a play date, I asked him, “Do you want to go to H.’s house?” Emphatically, he said no. “Well, we have plans; he’s expecting us,” I amended lamely. My son burst into tears, and no matter how I tried to spin it, he was adamant. Maybe he was tired; maybe the dark, cloudy morning visible from our windows was too uninviting. Whatever the case, I was now in the awkward position of having to drag him, kicking and screaming, down four flights of stairs (we lived in a walk-up) while also toting my younger boy, then an infant. So I canceled the play date (thus committing a “friendship fail,” too, all in one morning).

Inwardly I told myself that I would never do that again, but I was thinking in terms of specifics: I will never again ask my children whether they want to go on a play date that I have already arranged. Then I looked at the larger issue, which is my tendency to ask my kids almost everything. “Do you want to put on your shoes now?” “Should we have macaroni and cheese for dinner?” “How about you go brush your teeth?”

These are questions that present a problem if they are answered with no, because they are not really choices. If we’re going outside, we need shoes. If I’m preparing mac and cheese for dinner, that’s what we’ll be having. And we all know what happens when we don’t brush our teeth: cavities, hygiene issues and a future of dentist bills.

I know I’m not alone with my “Ask, Don’t Tell” approach. At the time of the Play date That Wasn’t, we were living in Park Slope, a neighborhood in Brooklyn that is famous (or infamous, depending on whom you ask) for being a yuppies-with-strollers paradise, filled with parents who obsess over school districts, the local food co-op and the merits of buying a two-family home. While living there, I constantly overheard my fellow parents having conversations with their children that could maybe, perhaps, possibly be taken for coddling. “I understand you’re feeling upset,” I heard a mother tell her toddler at a playground in Prospect Park. “Just hit me as hard as you want until you feel better.”

At the time I thought this was outrageous and enjoyed recounting the story to our friends. But then I decided to stop throwing stones and examine the motivations behind my own parenting style.

Why was I resisting giving my sons directives? For one thing, I want them to feel that the world is their oyster, a blossoming of infinite opportunities in which they are never denied. Second, I never wanted to be that mother who yells orders at her children. And finally, I’d read that presenting choices to kids helps give them a sense of control and lessens the tendency toward meltdowns and temper tantrums.

Bibi Boynton, a licensed clinical social worker who specializes in play therapy for children and parent coaching and has a private practice in Park Slope, calls the hesitation to set limits with children a “well-meaning mistake,” but stresses the importance of issuing directives and sticking to them — and emphasizes that parents can do so in a loving way. “By setting limits with your children using clear and nurturing language, you are in actuality providing children with the safety and consistency that they need to have all the freedom you want them to have,” Ms. Boynton explained. “That doesn’t mean you have to bark orders, and it certainly doesn’t mean you can’t sigh and commiserate when your child balks at tooth-brushing.”

Hmm. So instead of asking my older son about the play date with H., and then lamely trying to enforce a command that was disguised as a question, I could have stated it from the get-go: “We are going to H.’s house.” If he’d objected, I could have explained that we had a date and that I truly believed he would have a good time. I could have discussed his feelings and acknowledged them: “If you don’t like playing with H., we don’t have to in the future, but today we’ll keep our date and see how you feel afterward.”

“Children will appreciate you taking a moment to really connect with their feelings and verbalize them,” Ms. Boynton said. “And this sense of being understood will go a long way toward getting the job done.”

And as to the desire for my kids to see the world as limitless, it is the yearning of a loving mother, but there is a profound and obvious problem with it: The world is not limitless. On one side of the spectrum, limitations exist for even the richest, most privileged children. On the other side, there are kids in this country and the world who face limitations every day that range from the relatable to the unthinkable. All children need to learn that their fellow human beings face obstacles — some of them seemingly impossible to overcome. How else will our kids be able to cope when they face obstacles of their own? And how else will they learn to push these boundaries, advocate for others and strive for a better world?

If that sounds like a concept that’s too complex, not to mention heartbreaking, to teach our children, I’m counting on it being a learning curve that unfolds over decades, and a lesson that can begin with a simple command: “It’s time for you to brush your teeth.”

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