Anxiety: When Intervention Is Needed (Part 2)

We often think of interventions as surprise meetings where family and friends gather around the person of focus, inform them they’ve gone off the rails and insist that change is needed.

That’s not always how interventions go. Intervention is defined as “action taken to improve a situation.” They can be subtle. Our first action was taking Mary to the doctor. We were disappointed with the result. 

The doctor met with Mary alone. Afterwards, the doctor met with me. She acknowledged that Mary’s weight was low, but I could tell she wasn’t as worried as I was. My guess was Mary had come across as pretty level headed. Because she is. The doctor asked me about my concerns. I told her. I focused on the fact that Mary was denying herself everything she loves. That she limited herself to salad for dinner, despite having just finished 90 minutes of soccer practice. We’ve been going to this doctor since Mary was born. She knows I’m not one to overreact. We agreed we’d come back in four weeks. 

We got in the car after the appointment, and I asked Mary what they’d talked about. Mary said she gave her a list of healthy snacks she could try – Yogurt and granola, a bagel with peanut butter. “She told me to add one of these a day.” 

One snack? That was it?! I was perplexed. There was no way adding one snack would make the difference Mary needed. But I was also hopeful. Maybe we were overreacting. Maybe things are okay. I wanted things to be okay.

Over the next four weeks Mary ate her snacks. We returned to the doctor’s office. She’d lost more weight. I also learned she’d stopped having her period. 

What happened next is a bit of a blur. I asked Mary what she remembered about the order of events. She didn’t remember either. She did remember this: “You and Dad told me I had to go see a psychologist. I did NOT want to do that.”

Ah, it came back to me. Chad had found a family treatment center for teenagers with eating disorders. It was a multi week program, three afternoons a week. We’d presented it to Mary. 

“What about soccer practice?”

“You’ll miss practices. This is more important than soccer. This is your long-term health.” 

Missing soccer was, in Mary’s mind, not an option, but she could see we were serious. We gave her one more choice. 

“Mary, we’re willing to take you to a nutritionist first. But we’ll need to see some changes in your eating. Otherwise, we’re enrolling you in the center.”

“Okay.”

The first appointment with the nutritionist started with all three of us together. Her name was Michelle. She asked each of us to share our thoughts about Mary’s health and why we were there. She listened as Mary shared her eating regimen. To our relief, Michelle immediately acknowledged that Mary wasn’t eating enough. She said it without judgment. It was an observation. 

Before we left, she talked Mary through a new regimen that included three additional snacks every day. She told Mary to eat before every soccer practice and then again afterwards. She supported Mary’s desire to eat healthy food – she added things to the list that were healthy and also contained fat and protein. Michelle made it clear – Mary’s dinner salad wasn’t enough. We stopped at the grocery store and picked up some of the foods Michelle had recommended.

We watched Mary everyday. She was taking more snacks to school. Her mood slowly improved (she wasn’t starving!). Four weeks later, we returned to see Michelle. Mary had gained weight. It was the first time in months. She’d only gained a few pounds, so she was still well below her ideal weight. But this was the first time in months that she hadn’t lost weight, and it was worth celebrating.

They say it takes a village to raise children, and we engaged ours. We told our family and our closest friends what was happening, including the parents of Mary’s best friend. We knew they’d be supportive and respect her privacy. When the opportunity arose, her best friend provided encouragement, “Mary, that looks so good! You should eat more!” Her soccer coach checked in regularly. “You okay to play?” “You want to come out?” Of course, Mary always said she was fine to play and never wanted to come out. But, by asking he acknowledged her situation, he was subtle about it (show of respect) and he made space for her – if she needed to step away, she could.  

Over the next few months Mary’s weight went up and down – mostly up. She wasn’t always eager to eat six times everyday. And sometimes she didn’t. But she inched towards her ideal weight and, once she reached it, stayed there. Her period started again. 

Looking back, Mary acknowledges that she had anorexia. She’d looked up the symptoms – tendency towards obsessive behaviors, maintaining an excessive, rigid exercise regimen, refusing to eat certain foods, strong need for control, menstrual irregularities. It hasn’t gone away. She’s aware of it and makes conscious decisions to keep herself healthy. 

“Mary, what got you through it?” I asked, as I got ready to write this post. I was truly curious – hopeful she’d give me “the” answer. Her response was non-committal. She wasn’t sure – she thought it was several things. She didn’t want to see a psychologist. Her eating was negatively impacting her soccer (she found herself so tired she didn’t want to go to practice). She learned what and how she should be eating from Michelle. She also learned about eating disorders – that she’s not alone. They’re common. Especially among young women and female athletes. I noticed a new podcast in our family feed – Real Pod with Victoria Gerrick. 

Victoria is a former D1 athlete who had an eating disorder, and she speaks openly about her experiences. She shares how damaging the environment for athletes can be – physically and mentally. She brings guests on the show who share their experiences. Not always about eating issues. Anything that proved challenging. Through that, Mary learned the pressure she was feeling was real and others experience it too. She learned that her instinct to moderate her eating and follow the crowd might be unhealthy. She learned that eating yummy treats is okay and even encouraged (thank you, Victoria, for being part of Mary’s village).

In August, Mary will start college in Chicago. I asked her if she’s thought about what might trigger her anorexia. Will the stress of the new school, the soccer team, studies, create a desire for control? Will she revert back to her old eating regimen? She answered honestly. “I don’t think so.” For Mary, her eating isn’t triggered by events. She’s got a new regimen that keeps her healthy, and she’s committed to it. I’m hopeful, and I’ll keep watching.

Teaching Kids to Drive

Last week I took Emily and Ellie out for their first drive. They turned 15 a few months ago, and it was time to start practicing. 

It was their first time behind the wheel, so I kept things simple. I drove to an empty school parking lot. I stopped the car in the middle – lots of space on every side of us.

“Who’s first?”

Emily was quick to reply, “I’ll go!”

She got behind the wheel and started adjusting the seat and mirrors. I hadn’t even told her to look at the mirrors. Maybe she’s seen me, Chad, and Mary do it when we get behind the wheel. The things they notice. 

I walked her through the basics – the parking brake, the gears, and the pedals. I had her change gears while the parking break was still on. I had her pump the brakes a couple of times while the car was still in park. Then I had her release the parking break and let the car roll a bit, then stop. Roll a bit, then stop. Gently, slowly getting a feel for how the car moves and the pedals respond. I told her to drive slowly around the parking lot. 

That was all the direction I gave. She was nervous, and she took it slowly.

While she was driving, a minivan joined us in the parking lot. We hoped they’d realize what we were doing and park on the other side. Then we noticed the two switch seats – it was a Mom and her son. Another driving lesson about to begin.

Emily continued her circles and figure eights. We lurched forward a couple of times as she got used to the touchy gas pedal. 

Meanwhile, the minivan didn’t move. The Mom was talking to the son as he sat in the driver’s seat. 

Our car came to a hard stop. “Whoops, sorry,” Emily apologized. Touchy brakes too.

I had Emily park the car. Then I had her put it in reverse and back out of the parking spot. With nothing around her, there wasn’t any danger of hitting anything. She was learning the gears, the mirrors, and the general movement of the car.

The minivan was still parked. The mom was still talking.

I wondered aloud – “How much will that boy remember?”

“Nothing,” Emily replied.

We all agreed. 

My kids tune me out after two sentences. I don’t think it’s because I’m boring. Kids learn by doing. They listen when they need information. Providing just-in-time coaching is the most effective way to teach kids what they need to know – because they’ll hear it. 

Today was about getting comfortable with the pedals, steering wheel and how the car moves. We weren’t going to leave the parking lot, so there wasn’t any need to go teach them about the blinkers. The sun was shining, so we didn’t talk about windshield wipers. Speedometer? They wouldn’t get above 15 mph in a parking lot. And I don’t want them worried about watching the speedometer while they’re just getting used to the gas pedal. 

All of these things are important, and we’ll cover all of them as we drive with the girls. I know that because Washington state requires kids log 50 hours of driving before they take their drivers test. Chad and I hold firm to this. Nothing can prepare kids to drive safely more than practice. So we were happy to download the RoadReady app and log both Payton and Mary’s hours when they were learning. Mary hit 50 hours, 10 minutes before she took her drivers test. Payton reached 32 hours. He never took his test. We wouldn’t let him sign up for the test because he didn’t reach 50 hours. He’s 20 years old now, so he can do whatever he wants. But he’s chosen not to drive (that’s a topic for another post).

Because the girls will spend 50 hours behind the wheel (both declared they want their license), I don’t need to cover everything in the first drive. I can give them information in small chunks, letting them learn gradually. Two or three new lessons each time we drive. I know there will be a big shift as they begin driving on the roads. Even then, I can carefully select the roads we use in the beginning. Wider, less trafficked streets. Start by taking only right turns. They can use the blinker several times, learn to watch for pedestrians and cars, and continue learning how to maneuver the car. Then, when they’re comfortable with that, we’ll turn left. 

Long speeches are a thing of the past. They’re ineffective and give a false sense of confidence to the teacher that they’ve done their job. Teaching requires flexibility. Teachers who want to be successful must meet the learner where they are. Combining learning styles – talking, doing, reading, with a heavy emphasis on doing. 

So, every weekend we’ll be in the car with the girls, teaching them how to drive. A few more times in the parking lot, then we’ll take to the streets. We’ll go at their pace, adding new lessons as they’ve mastered the earlier ones. No need to worry if you drive in West Seattle – they’ll do just fine.

A Path of Their Own

Emily and Ellie, our twin girls, have always been somewhat shy. They avoid interactions with others when they can, and they tend to go with the flow to avoid drawing unwanted attention. That’s why we were startled when Emily declared, “I’m not going to West Seattle High School.”

WSHS is the neighborhood school. Payton, our oldest, went there and Mary, our second, is a senior there. It was, and has been, great for them. We assumed Emily and Ellie would follow. It’s the path of least resistance. But to say I was totally surprised wouldn’t be true, either. Ellie and Emily’s school experience has been different. They often come home complaining that their teachers spend more time managing the classroom than teaching. Payton and Mary had some classes like this, but it felt more consistent for the twins (I have to give credit to a couple of teachers and staff who are amazing…Ms. Russell, their language arts teacher and Ms. Bell the librarian – both inspired and taught the girls a lot). Unfortunately, the twins’ experience weighed more heavily towards the unruly classrooms, and Emily and Ellie wanted a place where they could learn.

We looked into their options, and they chose three to consider: The Center School (TCS), Nova and Vashon High School.

TCS and Nova are alternative schools. TCS’s curriculum is centered around learning through art. Nova focuses on learning through inquiry and problem based instruction. Both are part of the Seattle Public School system, so tuition wouldn’t be required (we can’t afford private school – saving for college is daunting enough). Vashon is a smaller high school. Every year a small cohort of kids in West Seattle go to Vashon HS. We know of a couple of kids who go to TCS. We hadn’t heard of anyone going to Nova.

The decision wouldn’t come without risks. School funding is always in question. Would alternative schools like Nova and TCS suffer first if Seattle Schools face a funding shortage? The commute. TCS and Nova would require a city bus ride to downtown Seattle. Is that safe? Vashon requires a bus and a ferry ride. How much time would the girls have to spend commuting each day? The risks were mitigated a bit when we learned that, if the school they chose didn’t work out, the girls could switch back to West Seattle HS anytime, but we wanted to learn more. 

Ellie and Emily’s best friend’s older brother went to TCS, so we talked with his parents. He, too, needed a different environment and smaller class sizes felt right, and they were happy with it. The teachers and staff really committed, good education. They had some gripes – the communication isn’t always clear, the counselor isn’t as responsive as they’d like – things you see at most schools. When we asked about the bus ride, her parents said several kids from West Seattle went to TCS. They discovered each other soon after the year started, and they tended to travel together, so they weren’t really alone. The commute was a non-issue. 

We attended a couple of the school Open Houses. It was the year of Covid-19. School buildings were closed, so Open Houses were virtual. Chad, Emily, Ellie and I sat on our couch, the computer stationed on the piano bench in front of us, and we watched and listened to teachers and students from TCS and Nova talk about the schools – the purpose, the approach and, most importantly, the kids’ experiences. The kids who shared had a similar quiet demeanor as Ellie and Emily. They talked about how their existing schools just weren’t working for them. They said the switch TCS / Nova provided an environment where they were more comfortable engaging and participating. More than one said, “I’ve found my voice.” 

That’s probably what solidified for me that one of these schools would be right for the girls. After the open houses, we asked them again, “what do you think?” Emily declared, “My first choice is the Center School, my second choice is Vashon, my third is Nova.” Ellie was quieter. 

It’s easy to assume twins will make the same decisions. They’re closer to each other than to anyone else, and their choices are often the same. But they are, and want to be, unique individuals. So, we made sure to tell each of them explicitly – you can make your own decision. We weren’t sure what we’d do if only one wanted a downtown school (imagining Emily riding the city bus by herself gave us trepidation, but we’d cross that bridge if and when we got there). “Ellie, what are you thinking?” Ellie agreed with Emily’s choices, she just needed more time to work herself up to the change. We gave her some space to think and didn’t raise the question for several days.

When it came time to submit their school choices, they both chose The Center School as their #1 option. We submitted the paperwork, and in April, they got the formal confirmation, they were enrolled in TCS for their Freshman year of high school. They would be taking a path of their own. 

Give Some Space

Give kids a chance to play independently. A lot of their day requires discipline. “Sit Still”, “Don’t touch,” “Use your inside voice.” After a while, they need to let out the tension they’ve been holding in. 

When Payton was about four years old and Mary was two, we took a road trip to southern Oregon. We spent several hours driving to get there. Payton and Mary sat still, buckled up, only the usual minor complaints (“Are we there yet?”). We were all happy to arrive – we were with family at the beautiful Oregon Coast. The next day, my in-laws told us we were going to see the Redwoods. Sounded great! But they didn’t mention it would require another two hours of driving (one-way). Once there, the kids had to follow the rules “go this way,” “stay on the path,” “don’t run ahead.” Had I been more confident in my role as a daughter-in-law, I would have asked to wait a day before making the kids get back in the car. They needed, and deserved, a day on the beach, running, yelling, getting their wiggles out. But the plan had been declared and I seemed to be the only person questioning it. So we went. 

When Payton was fourteen, we went on another road trip. This time we were with my in-laws and my sister-in-law and her family. My nephew – a darling, inquisitive toddler, adored Payton and wanted to spend all of his time with him. Payton enjoyed his cousin, too. During a hike they’d chat. Payton listened patiently as his cousin peppered him with questions, and Payton gave piggyback rides when he got tired. Afterwards, Payton was ready for time to himself. He hid away in the upper bunk of the RV, listening to music. We supported it, and so did my sister-in-law. “Where’s Payton?” his cousin would ask. “He’s taking some quiet time right now,” we’d reply. Once dinner was ready, Payton re-engaged. He was there when we needed him to be, and, I believe he showed up well because he’s a great kid – and because we gave him the space he needed.

When Teens Reject Parents

We seek the engagement of our teenagers more than they seek it from us.

I’m in the grocery store, walking down the cookie aisle, and I notice Milano cookies. Emily and Ellie love these. I imagine surprising them with a bag – smiles spreading across their faces as they gleefully grab the bag, shout “thank you!” and dive in. 

You know those moments. When you see a chance to surprise and delight your kids. When my kids were little, their reactions were more predictable. A bag of Milano cookies or French Toast for breakfast always brought smiles and eager fingers grabbing for more. Teenagers are harder to predict. I took a plate of cookies to my 17 year old son. “No thanks, I’m not hungry.” Hmmm. Since when do you have to be hungry to eat a cookie? I tried not to show my disappointment as I left the room, taking the plate of cookies with me.

Why was I disappointed?  They’re just cookies. Emily, Ellie and Chad were eating them up. Why did Payton’s reaction matter so much? Because, I realized, we seek the engagement of our teenagers more than they seek it from us.

Over the past several months, Payton had spent much of his time in his room. He’d come out for dinner and act vaguely interested in us. He wasn’t joining in our Friday night movies anymore. We tried to pick a movie we knew he’d like, but he chose to keep staring at his phone watching YouTube videos instead. It made me kind of mad. Couldn’t he engage even a little?

The cookies, I realized, were my attempt to connect with him. To get him to smile. They were about me, not about him. The truth is, he doesn’t need us the way he used to. He’s distancing himself from us so he can define who he is for himself. He has to leave us eventually. Best to know he’s ready for it. 

A Powerful Opportunity

Saving kids from disappointment takes away an opportunity for them to learn they’re strong enough to handle it.

When Mary was eight years old, she wanted to get her ears pierced. Some parents don’t want their kids getting piercings until they are older. My husband and I were indifferent. However, we knew it was an opportunity. This was a chance for us to encourage Mary to set a goal.

I was hoping for a goal that would really push her. Something she’d be nervous to try, or something that would feel really hard. Chad got to her first.

Chad told Mary if she scored a goal in every soccer game of the season, she could get her ears pierced. It was very promising for Mary. We were several games into the season and she’d had no trouble scoring. The promise was made.

Each game, Mary continued scoring.

Last game of the season arrived. Mary felt confident. All of her friends knew what was at stake. The only thing standing between Mary and getting her ears pierced was the final goal. There was no question she’d do it, just an eagerness to see the goal scored so she could celebrate.

I remember the start of the game. It was a beautiful fall day. The sun was shining. Families for both teams were on the sidelines getting ready to cheer their teams on. I also remember watching the other team warm up. They were good. Really good.

Uh oh. Chad and I glanced uncomfortably at each other.

The game started. The other team quickly realized that Mary was their biggest threat. And they responded – they smothered her. Mary worked her butt off. She tried everything her eight-year-old soccer playing self could think of. She wore a look of determination. She kept playing, fighting. They triple teamed her. The final whistle blew.

Mary had not scored.

Chad and I were quiet.

As the kids came off the field Mary came straight to us. One of her friends pleaded, “Mary got an assist. Can that count?” Parents looked over, assuming we’d say “Yes.”

“No, I’m sorry. But the deal was she had to score a goal in every game.” I felt the stunned eyes of several parents on us. Everyone was quiet. 

Mary’s shoulders fell, she buried her head in Chad’s coat, and she sobbed. 

This was the biggest disappointment she’d ever faced. She was so close. Wasn’t it close enough? Ear piercings weren’t that big of a deal. But we couldn’t give in. Giving in would teach Mary the goal didn’t matter. 

After we got home Mary went straight to her room. She laid on the floor, buried her head in her arms, and cried for two hours. Occasionally Chad or I went up to comfort her. It broke our hearts. But one thing became clear….Mary was learning a hard lesson, and our job wasn’t to shield her from the disappointment. Our job was to help her work through it. 

We gave Mary space. Space to feel sad, space to cry and let out all of her emotions. We made sure she knew we were there, not to save her, but to support her. We acknowledged how hard it must feel. To have been so close. Then, when she was ready, we helped her identify a new goal. She intentionally picked a goal she’d have more control over. It wasn’t easy, she’d been struggling with a particular exercise at school. But as long as she put in the effort, and she completed the work every week, she’d succeed. It would take commitment, focus and determination. We talked through a plan. Two months later, I took her to Claire’s to get her ears pierced.


We stood by this commitment with the other kids too. 

When Payton was in seventh grade, he dropped his iPhone one week after getting it. Screen shattered. He’d waited years to get a phone. He was sure he’d been the last kid in his middle school to get one. 

Ellie left her iPad on the airplane, in the pouch of the seat in front of her. She’d saved up her own money to buy it. Almost two years of savings. 

We could have bought Payton a new phone or Ellie a new iPad. Instead, we followed what has become our three-step plan (okay, not really, but thinking back on it, we do tend to follow these steps).  

Disappointment is part of life. If we shield our kids from it while they’re with us, how will they know how to handle it when they’re on their own? 



Three steps to helping kids through disappointment

  • Share empathy and show understanding
  • Give space
  • Help them build a plan

Share empathy and show understanding

“I’m sorry. You must be so disappointed.” Give a hug (or lots of them). If they make comments about being clumsy or stupid, make sure they know accidents happen to anyone. “People forget things in the seat back all the time. I’m so sorry yours was an iPad, that’s hard” “I drop my phone all the time, I can’t believe your screen cracked so badly”

Give space 

Crying never hurt anyone. And it can be very therapeutic. Remember those deep cries? The cries that exhaust you? But afterwards, you feel almost cleansed. Let your kids cry. 

Help them build a plan 

“What do you want to do?” They’ll probably get quiet. This is when they’re realizing you’re not going to fix it for them. Let that sink in. “What options do you have?” They may not know what their options are. We told Ellie about the airport lost and found. Payton was older and able to go online himself sleuthing out options. “What do you want to do?” Ellie didn’t want another iPad (full disclosure, we offered to help pay a portion of the replacement costs – she’d still have to save up again, but not for two years). Payton tried a few different solutions. After a few failed attempts, he found a place that could fix his screen. Two months later, it was good as new.