Build The Staircase of Your Child’s Mind

Over the last 3 years I’ve read over 100 books on parenting. I’ve learnt something from all of them. But there’s one that has shaped the way I parent more than any other:

The Whole-Brain Child by Dr Daniel Siegal and Dr Tina Bryson.

Isn’t it interesting how we come home from the hospital and quickly become experts on our children’s bodies; yet so many of us, even when we’re well-informed, often lack basic knowledge when it comes to how our children’s minds work?

There is one visual metaphor in the book that has become etched in my mind. I see it glowing in my own brain every time I enter the battlefield of the great parenting equalizer: The Tantrum.

It looks something like this.

A Two-Storey House

Imagine your child’s brain is a house. There is an upstairs and a downstairs.

The downstairs part of the brain contains the brainstem and limbic region.

It is instinctual, protective and reactive. It is responsible for:

• Basic bodily functions (breathing & blinking)
• Innate impulses (fight or flight)
• Strong emotions (anger & fear)

Think of it like the ground floor of a house where basic needs are met. There is a kitchen, living room and WC. It keeps our children alive.

The upstairs part of the brain is very different. It contains the cerebral cortex.

It is thoughtful, deliberate and reflective. It is responsible for:

• Decision-making
• Self-understanding/awareness
• Morality
• Empathy

Think of it like a first floor study with beautiful bay windows flooded with sunlight, allowing our children to see more clearly. It helps them live well.

So when our kids become overwhelmed with fear at the top of a new climbing frame, when they erupt with fury when another child takes their favourite toy or when they becomes distraught when we say goodbye at drop-off, that’s their instinctual downstairs brain kicking in.

By contrast, when our kids consider consequences before acting, regulate their emotions, or think about how others feel, that’s their thoughtful upstairs brain in action.

The Metaphorical Staircase

Whilst it might be tempting to conclude that the thoughtful upstairs brain is superior to the instinctual downstairs brain, that would not do justice to the brilliant intelligence that lives in our bodies.

Ideally we want our children to be in touch with the emotions and instincts that originate in their downstairs brains, use them as information, and then leverage the faculties of their upstairs brain to act from a place of reflection.

In other words, we want them to be able to climb up and down the stairs, enjoying the full fruits of their two-storey house. They need a staircase.

Now, there are two curveballs to this blissful vision of having such a well-integrated and virtuous child:

1. Whist the downstairs (instinctual) brain is fully operational from birth, the upstairs (thoughtful) brain is under construction for a very long time — until our mid-twenties.
2. Even the parts of our kid’s upstairs brain that are functional often become temporarily inaccessible, thanks to the amygdala, the watchdog of the downstairs brain. In moments of high stress or emotion, it fires up and blocks the staircase. It’s as if a baby gate has been latched at the base of the stairs and our child becomes “trapped downstairs”.

There are two downstream implications of this:

• We must reset our expectations. It is unrealistic to expect our kids to be rational all of the time (perhaps until their mid-twenties!). We must match our expectations to our child’s stage of development and level of experience.
• Next time you think your kid has “lost their mind”, you might not be neurologically wrong. Maybe, at least in that moment, it’s not that they won’t listen, but that they can’t.

Just knowing this can sometimes take the edge off the moment and help us respond better. I think what often makes tantrums so unpleasant as parents is that we resist rather than accept them. Understanding the brain science can help diffuse those unspoken thoughts that sometimes trigger our own amygdalas mid-meltdown — that we have bad kids, or worse, that maybe we are bad parents.

That’s not to say we shouldn’t have high expectations of our children’s potential and ourselves as their sherpas through life. As parents, we play a powerful role in building the metaphorical staircase of our children’s minds.

There are two ways that we can do this:

1. Proactive strategies: in moments of calm, we can help them construct their upstairs brain
2. Reactive strategies: in moments of chaos, we can help them not get trapped downstairs

Let’s look at each in turn.

I. Proactive strategies: in moments of calm, build the upstairs brain

The upstairs brain is like a muscle. The more it gets used, the stronger it grows and the better it performs under pressure. Here are a few ways we can strengthen some of the key functions of the upstairs brain: decision-making, self-understanding, empathy and morality.

Decision-making
​Give your child regular opportunities to weigh alternatives and their associated outcomes. The magic lies in them wrestling with the decision and living with the consequences, even when they are suboptimal. Avoid solving and resist rescuing.

• Would you like to wear your trainers or sandals to the park today?

• Football has been moved to the same time as swimming this week, which shall we go to?

• Would you prefer to buy that game now, or save up for a bike?

Self-understanding
​Help your child pay attention to and understand their inner world.

• You were a little wobbly at drop-off this morning, what made you feel that way?
• What was your favourite part about our holiday?
• What made you choose street dance for your summer camp activity?

Empathy
​Give your child practice in thinking about others.

• Why do you think that baby is crying?
• How do you think Stefan is feeling ahead of their move back to America?

• That man wasn’t very kind to us was he? Do you think something might have happened to make him feel sad today?

Morality
​Help your child develop a sense of right and wrong, and consider the greater good beyond themselves.

• There’s only one muffin left, and your sister wants one too, what shall we do?
• If there was a bully at school and no teacher was around what would you do?
• If your friend forgot their homework and asked to copy yours what would you say?

OK, so that’s when things are calm. Now let’s turn to the moments of chaos.

II. Reactive strategies: in moments of chaos, unlatch the downstairs brain

We’ve all been there. Your child hurls themselves on the floor of the department store because you said they can’t have the bright pink remote-controlled walking dog.

If you default to some of these responses, you are not alone:

• Philosophical Lecture: Money doesn’t grow on trees!
• Threat: If you don’t get off the floor now, we’re going straight home.
• Scold: You’re behaving like a spoilt brat!
• Compare: Look at your brother, he’s not making a fuss.
• Question: Why are you crying?
• Deny: But you don’t even like dogs!

You are likely also not alone in your experience of their ineffectiveness.

“You’re right, money does not grow on trees, thank you for pointing that out. I don’t want to be a spoilt brat, I want to be calm and considered like my older brother. Let’s go!”

— said no kid ever.

As Siegal and Bryson explain, these responses often have the opposite of the intended consequence — and enrage our little ones further — because their upstairs (thoughtful) brain has likely been hijacked by the amygdala in their downstairs (instinctual) brain. The baby gate is firmly latched and they cannot climb the stairs.

Put another way, our efforts to reason in this moment are wasted. It’s like trying to have a calm conversation with someone standing in front of a fire alarm. They will be deaf to even our finest reasoning and most impassioned pleas.

Based on the model of our two-storey house, here’s an alternative approach:

1. Meet them downstairs: accept and acknowledge their feelings.
2. Unlatch the baby gate: via touch, movement or play.
3. Lead them upstairs: hold the boundary, engage the upstairs brain, teach the skill.

Here’s an example of what this could look like in practice (important note: adjust tone of voice and language so it feels authentic):

1. Meet them downstairs: accept and acknowledge their feelings.

“It’s a pretty unusual toy isn’t it, I don’t think you’ve ever seen anything like it. I guess you feel disappointed that you can’t take it home to meet all your other toys. I get it.”

2. Unlatch the baby gate: via touch, movement or play.

“Come here for a cuddle. Oh my, I think it’s chasing us — quick we better run!”

We know the gate has unlatched when they soften and their crying or anger subsides. We know we’ve hit the jackpot if we get a smile.

3. Lead them upstairs: hold the boundary, engage the upstairs brain, teach the skill.

Once they’re calm:

“We’re not going to take the doggy home because remember we said we’re going to wait until your birthday before we add to your toy collection. But perhaps we can be problem-solvers and think of another idea together. I’ve got one. Maybe we could ask Frances if we could pop round this evening to play with her real dog Bertie? What about you — do you have any ideas?”

You know their upstairs brain is engaged if they start contributing ideas. You can give yourself a high five.

Maybe later that evening:

“Hey do you remember when you threw yourself on the floor this afternoon like a mad monkey because you wanted that pink dog? What were you feeling? Next time you really really want something but can’t have it, any ideas what could you do instead?

Pause — children as young as 2 can come up with surprisingly sensible solutions.

“Maybe we could write it down on your birthday wish list?”

In my experience, the first step — meeting them downstairs — is by far the hardest. Particularly when their behaviour appears as irrational and ridiculous, or worse, petulant and ungrateful.

Two ideas have helped me respond with genuine empathy in those moments:

• Remembering that all feelings are valid, all behaviours are not. We can validate their feelings without validating their behaviour. That’s not permissive parenting. Permissive parenting would be finding yourself walking home with the bright pink remote-controlled dog sauntering beside you!
• Reframing the outburst for what it is: almost always a skill, knowledge or experience gap. Your child doesn’t (yet) know how to want something deeply, tolerate disappointment, and move on. Or that bright pink remote-controlled walking dogs are ridiculous!

The Ordinary Moments

There is a danger that the more we learn as parents, the more pressure we feel to fill every moment with meaning and significance.

But this would be a great shame. As we strive to do better, we should never let this pursuit hijack the greatest gift we can give our children: our loving presence.

Hopefully the opposite becomes true: the more we learn, the more meaning we find in the ordinary moments.

I hope this two-storey house metaphor proves as useful to you as it has to me and that you have great fun building the staircase of your little one’s mind.

Remember, in the calm we build capacity. In the chaos, we help restore access.

Until next week,

Riya

P.S. If you found this helpful, I recommend checking out The Whole Brain Child. I think you’ll enjoy it.

​

Forwarded this note?
You can learn more and subscribe here.