One of my fondest counseling experiences was with a single mother who came to me seeking help for her fifteen-year-old daughter, who she described as having poor social skills and issues with explosive anger. The mother was exasperated because she and her daughter fought constantly and the daughter was starting to get into fights at school. In the mother’s mind, her daughter needed help to learn how to better handle her emotions. She was hopeful that I could assist.
Rarely does a film come along that offers equal parts full-throttle bravado, tender-hearted sentimentality, and rich grist for the philosophical mill, but this is exactly what Neill Blomkamp (Elysium, District 9) achieves in his latest contribution to the science-fiction milieu of robotics. I’m not a film critic, so I’m not going to write this article as if I were one, yet I will say this: CHAPPiE is brilliant.
This article is actually an email I sent to one of my clients who was dreading having “the divorce conversation” with her kids. Like many faced with this daunting task, she assumed her children (both between the ages of 5 and 10) would be devastated by the news. Two days after sending my 8 tips, I received the following response from her: Thank you SO much for this help! [Spouse’s name] and I read it over several times and did just as you laid out– and all is okay! The kids seem fairly unaffected so far and were happy and excited about xxxxxx’s apartment having a pool. Anyway, I guess as far as this talk goes, it was really successful. You pointed out several things I wouldn’t have thought about, so thank you. And thanks for always being available and willing to help. You rock!! This article shares the 8 tips that I offered her.
My two-year-old son, like your average American child, rarely goes a day without viewing television, and often quite a bit of it. He watches a show or two when he wakes up in the morning, maybe a full-length animated film in the afternoon, and another program sometime in the evening. With a one-year-old to manage simultaneously, it’s not uncommon for my wife and I to occasionally entrust one of our many animated allies with briefly babysitting our toddler. Of course, neither Nemo, Lightning McQueen, nor Buzz Lightyear can change a diaper worth a damn, but they certainly are adept at keeping kids from sticking forks in electrical outlets, which is a plus.
You might wonder how the art of giving permission relates to parenting, especially towards young children. After all, are you expected to give permission for your son to play with a set of steak knives or for your daughter to jump on top of a friend’s dining room table while you’re stopping by for a visit? Are you really expected to give permission to everything?