Caroline Archer - Reparenting The Child Who Hurts - A Guide To Healing Developmental Trauma and Attachments-Jessica Kingsley Publishers (2013)

Reparenting
the Child Who

Hurts A Guide to Healing Developmental
Trauma and Attachments
Caroline Archer and Christine Gordon

Foreword by Gregory C. Keck, Ph.D.
Jessica Kingsley Publishers

London and Philadelphia
First published in 2013
by Jessica Kingsley Publishers
116 Pentonville Road
London N1 9JB, UK
and
400 Market Street, Suite 400
Philadelphia, PA 19106, USA
www.jkp.com
Copyright © Caroline Archer and Christine Gordon 2013
Foreword copyright © Gregory C. Keck, Ph.D. 2013
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Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Archer, Caroline, 1948-
Reparenting the child who hurts : a guide to healing
developmental trauma and attachments / Caroline
Archer and Christine Gordon ; foreword by Gregory C. Keck, Ph.D.
pages cm
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-84905-263-4 (alk. paper)
1. Child psychology. 2. Child development. 3. Adoptive
parents--Handbooks, manuals, etc. 4.
Parenting--Handbooks, manuals, etc. I. Gordon, Christine Ann, 1949- II. Title.
BF721.A6943 2012
649’.1567--dc23
2012033827
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 84905 263 4
eISBN 978 0 85700 568 7
Printed and bound in Great Britain
We would both like to dedicate this book to our grandchildren.
The challenges of the next generation continue to allow us to
practise and hone our developmental reparenting principles.
Thanks to them all, and our children, for the opportunities they
have given, and are giving us, to have fun whilst continuing
to learn.
Contents
Foreword by Gregory C. Keck, Ph.D. 7
Part 1 Stepping Forward:

Exploring the
Foundations
Introduction 10
Chapter 1 Knitting Your Kid! Patterns of Knitting and
Nurturing Attachments 17
Chapter 2 Fitting the Pieces Together 55
Part 2 What Can We Do?

Introduction 66
Chapter 3 Key Concepts 74
Chapter 4 Information: The Need to Know –
Understanding Our Children’s Past
to Understand their Present 91
Chapter 5 Laying the Foundations: Co-regulation
for Self-regulation 99
Chapter 6 Rocking and Rolling: Creating Physical
and Emotional Balance 117
Chapter 7 Seeing Eye to Eye 126
Chapter 8 Object Permanence and Object Constancy 140
Chapter 9 Talking, Telling, Timing 151
Chapter 10 Loose Connections 167
Chapter 11 The Child Within the Child 179
Chapter 12 Taking, Borrowing and Difficulties
with the Truth 192
Chapter 13 Making Changes, Managing Changes 204
Chapter 14 Special Occasions 213
Chapter 15 Handling Holidays 222
Chapter 16 Juggling Siblings 234
Chapter 17 Taking Care of Ourselves 245
Chapter 18 Getting Help 251
Appendix 1: Posters to Print 259

Appendix 2: Check In and Check
Out Outline 264
Glossary 270
References 274
Selection of Useful Books for Children 278
Essential Resources 280
Index 285
Foreword
As I read the book that you are about to begin, I felt excited
that so much recent information is included. Caroline Archer
and Christine Gordon have clearly researched the most recent
literature in neuroscience, trauma, human development and
developmental parenting.
As a professional, I felt that the material contained in this
book offers those people working with hurt children and their
families insight and information which will better inform their
practices and enhance their efforts to help traumatised children
move forward in their development. As an adoptive parent, I felt
the strong encouragement that is offered on almost every page. As
I read through the manuscript a couple of times, I was glad to see
theoretically sound and well-researched information presented
in a manner that will be palatable to frustrated and challenged
parents.
When a child who has been traumatised enters a family either
for foster care or for adoption, they bring a lot with them. Much of
what he/she brings may not be expected by the family, and even
more importantly, it is almost certain that the family – parents
and children – will not expect the child’s trauma experiences,
emotions and behaviours to have a negative or even traumatic
impact on the family. When professionals see prospective adoptive
families, they appear to be healthy, excited, optimistic, forward
looking and hopeful that they will be able to raise a hurt child;
they often feel that their love and acceptance will erase the hurt
or, at least, mitigate it enough so that the child will have a bright
and productive future.
7
8 Reparenting the Child Who Hurts
Hurt children bring their hurt – their many hurts – with them,
and often both parents and other children in the family feel as if
they are now living in an environment that is both traumatic and
hurtful. I feel that Caroline Archer and Christine Gordon offer
hope for families who may be struggling and flailing about trying
to find their feet, so to speak. While the book is not a step-by-step
guide, which I don’t even believe could be written, Reparenting
the Child Who Hurts offers readers a conceptual framework for
understanding the complex dynamics of living with a child
who, indeed, has developmental trauma disorder. It also provides
explicit details of how parents may respond to difficult situations
– complete with examples of verbal responses that may be helpful
in ameliorating extremely intense situations.
New developments in neuroscience offer us so much insight,
and this book integrates this new knowledge with the long-
understood dynamics of child and human development. I believe
that when parents are able to maintain a focus on developmental
issues as they make their way through the maze of emotions,
behaviours, challenges and difficulties, they are able to keep
their heads high enough above the water to allow them to make
reasoned decisions about what they want to address and what
they may want to do. When parents can make a shift in how they
see the problems the hurt child has and in how they respond to
the child, the child will have fertile ground for developmental
re‑activation and progress.
I think that readers of Reparenting the Child Who Hurts will find,
as I did, that this book will help them understand the dynamics
they either work with or live with and, more importantly, it will
help them make the kinds of shifts that will facilitate their efforts
to parent and help hurt children.
Gregory C. Keck, Ph.D., Founder/Director of the Attachment
and Bonding Center of Ohio; co-author of Adopting
the Hurt Child and Parenting the Hurt Child; and
author of Parenting Adopted Adolescents
Part 1
Stepping
Forward
Exploring the Foundations
Part 1 Introduction
Introduction
When we first met in the late 1980s and began work with
colleagues at Adoption UK (then Parent to Parent Information
on Adoption Services (PPIAS)) to explore how parenting ‘hurt’
children (Keck and Kupecky 2002) differed from parenting
securely attached children, little did we know that, two decades
on, we would still be working together exploring the needs of
traumatised children and discussing how best to parent them.
Little, too, did we know the extent to which new developments in
neurobiology would increase our understanding of the continuing
day-to-day struggles that affect the lives of many traumatised
children even when they have been removed from their traumatic
circumstances and offered the security of loving families.
When we first started writing together in the late 1980s a
climate change in the way adoptive family life was perceived
was beginning. John Bowlby’s research on attachment (1969,
1973, 1988) was increasingly recognised as pertinent to our
understanding of how our earliest relationships, particularly
those with our mothers, crucially determine how we relate to
the world and our relationships within it. This eventually led to
greater awareness amongst the ‘adoption community’ that early
trauma continues to have an adverse impact long after children
are placed in loving families. This began a movement away
from blaming adoptive parents for the ongoing difficulties their
children presented to an understanding that on its own love does
not conquer all.
10
Part 1 Introduction 11
This climate of change had its drawbacks. With the label of

‘Reactive Attachment Disorder’ (RAD) that many traumatised
children were then given came the implication that the behavioural
and relationship difficulties central to this diagnosis were virtually
impossible to alter, in effect consigning children to a lifetime of
difficulties and failed relationships. Also implicit was the belief
that traumatised children’s behaviour was, to a significant degree,
under their personal control and that, if parents wished to make
family life more tolerable, they needed to wrest control from
their children and take it into their own hands. Although it was
accepted this should be done in loving and empathetic ways,
the message that children ‘wouldn’t do’ rather than ‘couldn’t do’
predominated. This thinking influenced early attempts to create
alternative parenting approaches for ‘hurt children’.
Our first output therefore concentrated on control issues and
on strategies for confronting and containing specific behavioural
issues. Little attention was paid to the underlying feelings that
drove ‘hurt’ children’s behaviour.
By the time Caroline wrote First Steps in Parenting the Child Who
Hurts: Tiddlers and Toddlers and Next Steps in Parenting the Child
Who Hurts: Tykes and Teens (1999a, 1999b) our awareness of the
impact on children of early traumatic experiences had moved
on considerably. Developments in neuroanatomy (structure) and
neurophysiology (function) had increased our understanding
that children ‘can’t do’ rather than ‘won’t do’ and that ‘horse
whispering’ was preferable to ‘horse breaking’. Hence we were
able to recognise that control-based strategies alone would
not substantially affect ‘hurt’ (traumatised) children’s ways of
understanding and relating to the world. First Steps and Next Steps
emphasised a change in parental mind-set, with strategies reflecting
the change of emphasis from containment to understanding and
healing.
Whilst these two books continue to be very relevant today,
particularly the developmental focus on babies and young
children in First Steps in Parenting the Child Who Hurts, research and
understanding in this exciting field have continued to grow apace,
increasing our awareness of the impact of early trauma on every

aspect of our children’s being: their body, feelings and thoughts
and their expression through their behavioural ‘language’. The
study of mirror neurons (MN) exemplifies how neurobiological
findings can confirm what previously we could only surmise:
that experiences and patterns of interaction learned in the womb
and early months of life can profoundly influence our daily lives
throughout childhood and adulthood. This book builds on our
journey of exploration in First Steps and Next Steps to integrate
recent scientific, psychological and social scientific developments
and to provide parents, caregivers and professionals with the latest
insights into the nature of early relational trauma and its impacts
on children at the neurobiological as well as behavioural level.
Mirror neurons
Towards the turn of the century, neuroscientists
identified nerve cells in specific areas of monkeys’
brains that were seen to fire, as if the animals
were carrying out those actions themselves,
when they simply observed other monkeys’
actions (e.g. Rizzolatti, Fogassi and Gallese 1997).
This suggests that the firing of neural circuits in
these premotor areas plays a vital role in the acquisition of new
skills or, conversely, that imitation facilitates the development of
mirror neuron (MN) systems (Nishitani and Hari 2000).
Using functional Magnetic Resonance Imagery (fMRI), Iacoboni
and his colleagues (2005) observed that in humans neural firing
occurred in areas of the right inferior frontal cortex in response
to perceived intentional actions, specifically to encode ‘the “why”
of the action and respond differently to different intentions’. The
sound associated with an action was also shown to evoke firing
in these premotor areas (Kohler et al. 2002). These findings shed
important light on the development of communication and social
interaction in animals that form close social communities, including
humans.
Since gesture and facial imitation are observable in two-day-old

human infants (Meltzoy and Moore 1989) this area of functioning
must have high survival value. A popular evolutionary view is that
hand gestures provided an important means of communication
between members of a social group (Roth 2012). For example,
during hunting activities, gesture facilitates communication, allowing
co-ordination of activities and improving survival chances. With
time, specific vocalisations in primates enhanced this process; in
humans the gradual development of language, in these same neo-
cortical areas, conferred greater survival value.
In Chapter 7, ‘Seeing Eye to Eye’, we consider the hugely
important part eye-to-eye contact and ‘mirroring’ play in young
children’s development. Baron-Cohen (1999) identifies ‘shared
attention’, the capacity to draw other people’s attention to
an object and to ‘know that they know I am looking at this’ as
significant to social communication. This in turn plays a vital part
in the communication of intention at close quarters. Similarly, eyes
are often used to establish the ‘pecking order’ in a social group,
with weaker individuals lowering their eyes as part of a submissive
posture. This has species survival value, where intentionality, such
as in ‘battles for dominance’, can occur ‘symbolically’ through eye-
to-eye communication, rather than through ‘fight to the death’.
Thus the firing and wiring of MN circuits allow us to ‘read’ others’
minds, enhancing the security, trust, flexibility, adaptability and
stability that lie at the core of wellbeing.
Children who experienced early maltreatment tend to ‘misread’
situations (d’Andrea et al. 2012). Since in their early lives they
experienced others’ actions, such as being looked at, addressed or
approached, as frightening or as having painful consequences, their
MN circuits are ‘hot-wired’ to ‘fight, flight or freeze’ responses. Their
‘survival MN wiring’ means they frequently display inappropriate
responses, often perceiving actions as threatening in ‘neutral’
situations, or when others’ intentions are, in fact, well meaning.
The understanding offered by neurobiology also presents us with

exciting opportunities to help children repair from early trauma.
Allan Schore (1994, 2001a, b) and colleagues worldwide refer to

the ‘plasticity’ of the brain, implying that children can alter the
ways they respond both neurobiologically and behaviourally if
provided with consistent experiences of an alternative, healing
environment. In our subsequent book, entitled New Families, Old
Scripts: A Guide to the Language of Trauma and Attachment in Adoptive
Families (2006) we explored this phenomenon, offering parents
focused discussions of how, as the ‘prime agents for change’ for
their children, they could create a family environment where
change became a real possibility.
In this new book, we look towards integrating the body and
the emotionally based nature of traumatic experiences, from
the ‘bottom storey’ brainstem and limbic ‘middle storey’, to the
neo-cortical (top storey) cognitive functions of our thinking
brains. This enables us to formulate important basic principles
for developmental reparenting from which parents can tailor-
make their approach to their children’s real needs. We start
where parents and professionals need to start: at the beginning of
children’s physical, emotional, social, behavioural and cognitive
development. This is the ‘bottom up’ thinking that informs this
volume: starting with ways of sensing, moving on through ways
of feeling and doing, and ending with ways of thinking and
being. We demonstrate how these are integrally connected and
how they make up who and what we become.
In doing so we continue to develop the ideas and suggestions
featured in New Families, Old Scripts, and explore the basic principles
of caregiving that create an environment where real change
becomes a reality for some of our most vulnerable children. The
terms ‘therapeutic’, or ‘developmental reparenting’ imply that
adopters and foster carers offer the best ‘therapeutic medium’
within which maltreated children can feel sufficiently safe and
‘held’ to set out on the road to healing. Using this awareness we
can make the changes in parenting mind-set that our children
require so that they, too, can change: in their bodies, their feelings
and their thoughts and behaviours. Change then becomes not
so much a challenge as a gift: to ourselves, our children and our

communities.
Traumatic early experiences are not confined to those children
who are, or were, overtly maltreated or spent long periods in the
‘looked after system’. Children born into families where there is
persistent parental discord experience uncertainty and fear that
‘prime’ their perceptions and responses. It is often difficult for
birth parents to be fully ‘there’ for their children when facing the
fear of domestic violence, or to acknowledge that their children
see, hear, feel and store these events in their bodies, brains and
minds. If these experiences occurred in their earliest months
of life when neurobiological development is at its most rapid,
children develop trauma-based responses that profoundly shape
their lives over the long term. Other children face even more
‘invisible’ adverse early experiences pre- or post-natally. Infants
who spend periods in special care baby units experience traumatic
early separations that mirror those of fostered and adopted
youngsters. Young children who undergo painful hospital
procedures experience hurts as inexplicable to them as the pain
of abuse, often accompanied by distressing periods of separation
they cannot comprehend. Maternal distress and depression create
the same feelings of abandonment and unpredictability in young
children as neglect. Even if these youngsters are lucky enough to
remain with caring birth families they remain prone to trauma-
based stress responses that affect their attachment security,
relationships and development.
Our book is therefore designed to help all parents of children
presenting behavioural and relationship difficulties derived from
sub-optimal early life experiences. One of the bedrocks of our
approach is the belief that healthy attachments are fundamental
to healthy development. All of us are impacted by the way we
were parented and almost everyone experiences some degree of
attachment-stress (trauma) during their journey to adulthood.
Securely attached adults will, as a rule, raise securely attached
children, who in their turn will raise securely attached offspring.
Theoretically they are well placed to help traumatised children
develop healthier attachments. However, securely attached

parents may well have differing expectations of the parent–child
relationship from those of their traumatised children. Such ‘mis-
matches’ need to be acknowledged so that caregivers can make
sense of their children’s responses and best meet their needs.
Other caregivers may have had difficult childhood experiences
that affect their parenting style. Whilst it is more challenging
to parent children in healthy ways when our own attachment
experiences have been sub-optimal, such adversity can allow us a
clearer ‘window’ into our children’s inner world than is available
to our more securely attached counterparts.
Whatever our parenting style, it is essential to be able to reflect
on our own attachment experiences and those of our children
and to have faith that, given the plasticity of the brain, change
is always possible. Therefore to become therapeutic parents we
need to consider our attachment style and how well this ‘fits’
our children’s trauma and attachment histories. Understanding
the neurobiological influences on ourselves and our parenting,
alongside those of our children, is vital if we are to adapt to meet
our children’s needs effectively. We believe this book provides
the foundations that will make change and ‘rebuilding’ more
possible in our families and make our journey through life more
comfortable and rewarding.
Chapter 1
Knitting Your Kid!

Patterns of Knitting and
Nurturing Attachments
Although making an analogy between raising children and

knitting woollies might seem fanciful it can be a useful tool
in developing our understanding of the impact of trauma on
children’s attachment, resilience and global development. So let’s
begin at the beginning and see where we go!
Raw wool from the fleece comprises matted strands of dirty, oily fibre. To
produce the balls of wool to create complete garments we need to strip, wash,
tease out, card and spin the disconnected, tangled threads into longer, more
even, inter-linked strands. This represents, metaphorically, the sequence of
frenetic division, determining of potential function, and building of vital
connections between the myriad cells that define the individual, taking form
within the womb. The process of wool creation must be undertaken with
great care and follow the correct production sequence. Then, irrespective
of colour, texture or minor individual variation, we have the makings of a
fine garment: as long as we have enough material, time and skill to follow
the appropriate pattern, using suitable knitting needles. The same principle
holds for the creation of human beings.
At birth babies possess more than a lifetime’s worth of brain cells, neurons
that must become specialised and inter-connected to create a mature, feeling
and thinking human being. Normally at birth the ‘raw wool’ (fertilised
embryo) has been spun into an identifiable ‘fluffy ball’ (new-born baby)
17
with the potential to influence, for example, colour, size and strength. These
characteristics, drawn from the gene templates of both parents, are tempered
by experiences in the womb, creating the unique pattern for development
of each human being. Within this early environment (metaphorically
represented by the washing, carding, spinning and refining process) many
unseen, poorly understood and underplayed influences can have a defining
impact.
Provided there are reasonably adequate environmental
opportunities, with safe space to grow, good enough maternal
nutrition, a sufficient developmental period, limited stresses, and
absence of toxic or traumatic experiences, the fertilised egg moves
gradually towards becoming a healthy, ‘neurotypical’, individual.
However, adverse experiences during this time, such as poor
maternal diet, use of tobacco or other drugs, or chronic emotional
or socio-economic stress within the family, may significantly
affect the weight, development and future physical and mental
health of the baby.
Many of the ‘invisible’ factors that adversely affect babies’
development before birth have a common link: the destructive
effect of maternal stress hormones, such as cortisol, passing
directly from the mother to the ball of cells forming the infant
in the womb (Schore 2001b). Although early foetuses may be
unable to identify sensations and feelings such as pain, depression
or anxiety, they certainly experience the neurobiological distress
with which such emotions are intrinsically linked (Fisk 2000;
Jennings 2011) and their neurophysiological systems adjust to
achieve ‘best fit’ to ensure survival in adversity. Just as the secretion
of hormones like adrenalin allow us to prepare for ‘fight, flight
or freeze’ under stress to promote survival and perpetuation of
the species, similar patterns of ‘emergency response’ occur in
distressed and helpless infants pre-birth.
Where the perceived threat is ongoing, or repeated post-
birth, these neurobiological adaptations become relatively fixed
patterns (Schore 2001b). For developing infants this means
continually raised stress hormone levels, making them tense,
fractious, demanding, ‘jumpy’ and hard to settle, or, conversely,
Knitting Your Kid! 19
overly sleepy, ‘poor feeders’ and unresponsive. These factors, in

turn, make it harder for caregivers to ‘get to know’ their infants
and to feel confident in their parenting. In such circumstances
babies’ capacities to self-regulate are significantly affected, since
the ‘setting’ of regulatory ‘thermostats’ begins before birth,
with basic brainstem functions, and continues after birth via co-
regulatory interactions with parental figures.
If things do not go well in the womb, the primal ‘ball of wool baby’ comes
into the world in less than peak condition, though external appearances may
seem normal. Beneath the surface there may be tiny ‘breaks’, ‘kinks’, ‘knots’,
‘threads of fluctuating thickness and strength’, variations in the ‘twisting
together’ and connecting of individual ‘fibre strands’ and other potential
‘flaws’. If the ‘raw fleece’ has been exposed to contamination, or ‘quality
control’ during the cleansing process is poor, potentially toxic elements
may persist. These factors, alone or together, can adversely affect growth,
flexibility, durability and resilience and hence babies’ subsequent ‘knitting
up’ potential. Subsequent handling by ‘workers’ who are inadequately
trained, in ill health or working in challenging conditions can further
perpetuate poor outcomes.
From this point, ‘standard patterns’ may be insufficient to offset poor
early ‘manufacturing processes’. There may be ‘poorness of fit’ between the
healthy ‘knitting patterns’ of securely attached or experienced ‘knitters up’
and the ‘distressed yarn’. Such differences can accentuate developmental
‘flaws’, failing to repair early ‘manufacturing’ deficits. The ‘manufacturing
ergonomics’ can become altered, through complex system feedback loops,
affecting future production and organisation of ‘output’ of the ‘garment’
that is our growing child. The situation may be more problematic for a
baby who remains with a ‘knitter’ who has not learned how to ‘knit’ well,
‘knits without a pattern’, ‘drops stitches’, uses different ‘tensions’ or ‘tugs at
the wool’ to try and release the ‘knots’, rather than gently ‘teasing’ them out.
Unfortunately there is little we can currently do to influence
children’s pre-birth experiences directly, although it is to be hoped
that, through raising public awareness of pre-natal influences, and
systemic and individual pre-natal and birthing practices, this will
change for the better over time. However, it is now possible, using
therapeutic reparenting techniques derived from our growing
understanding of children’s attachment and developmental

pathways, and the impact of early distressing experiences, to
effect improvements in outcomes for traumatised youngsters in
our care. These are discussed in greater depth throughout Part 2.
The brainstem forms the ‘bottom storey’ of the ‘triune (three-
layered) brain’ – the layers of which are frequently described as
‘reptilian’, ‘mammalian’ and ‘human’ according to their level of
evolutionary development. It is responsible for the establishment
of life-promoting functions such as respiration, heart rate, blood
pressure, body temperature, ingestion and excretion (Gerhardt
2004) and informs the autonomic nervous system (ANS), which
itself controls automatic reactions to the environment. The
brainstem provides the foundation upon which the internal
and external sensory, motor, perceptual and socio-emotional
functions can build, within the ‘middle storey’ limbic areas of
the mammalian brain (Siegel 2010). Complex biofeedback loops
that evolve between ‘bottom storey’ and ‘middle storey’ areas in
infants’ early months establish the neurobiological templates for
physical regulatory systems throughout the lifetime.
In turn, these response patterns form the basis for the
development of the ‘top storey’ neural networks of the cerebral
cortex: the ‘grey matter’ of the human ‘thinking’ brain that
allows mature reflection and organised, considered responses
(Schore 1994). The limbic area and the cerebral cortex of each
brain hemisphere (imagine a three-storey semi-detached house
here) must follow specific neurodevelopmental sequences that
begin after birth. Thus it is essential that good enough, basic
regulatory patterns are set in place within the ‘bottom storey’ of
the foetal brainstem to allow optimal organisation, regulation and
integration of children’s bodily, neurological and mental systems
throughout the lifespan.
Exposure to toxic stressors in the womb can seriously
compromise global developmental progress, ‘pre-setting’ unborn
infants’ regulatory brainstem functions in ‘emergency mode’:
affecting breathing, sleeping and eating patterns, alongside other
basic bodily functions, like heart rate, blood pressure and body
temperature. These ‘bottom storey’ adaptations, once established,

tend to persist even where living conditions improve considerably.
Individuals will have higher reactivity to perceived stress, less
flexibility of response, and a reduced sense of wellbeing and
resilience.
Wellbeing
We might visualise wellbeing as a well from
which a supply of pure, free-flowing water
can be drawn, providing a dependable life-
giving resource; whatever the demands placed
on it, a consistent stream remains readily
available. Wellbeing develops through positive
attachment experiences, particularly during
the first thousand days of life. It enables children to regulate their
neurobiological stress responses, return to their ‘comfort zone’
and feel good in body and mind. The ‘inner well’ of securely
attached children develops to meet their basic needs, providing
them with a powerful source of clear, ‘inner flow’ and a healthy
sense of confidence, consciousness, connectedness and creativity.
They are ready to face almost everything the world throws at
them with equanimity.
On the other hand, children’s ‘inner flow’ is compromised by
serious early adversity. The ‘water-table’ may be unreliable, with
periods of ‘flood’ or ‘drought’; the supply may appear ‘tainted’.
There will be continued lack of trust over ‘supplies’ that limits
youngsters’ expectations, exploration and free expression. Such
children cannot ‘go with the flow’: their very being is constrained
by fear of unfathomable, potentially life-threatening, events that
threaten to ‘drown’ them. They remain on unrelieved ‘flood-alert’,
at odds with themselves and the world; their life-chances and
long-term health are likely to be compromised.
Resilience
Wellbeing and resilience are integrally linked:
both are created in the interactive ‘dialogue’
of attachment. Children are not born resilient;
the lucky ones inherit a genetic coding that
enhances their capacity to deal with life’s
challenges with equanimity. Such coding is
promoted by positive, nurturing experiences
within ‘good enough’ attachment relationships, conferring
important advantages in terms of neurobiological responses to
stress. This enhances children’s ability to feel good in their bodies
and minds, allowing them, both physically and emotionally, to
‘bounce’ or ‘spring back’ under stress: to find their ‘comfort zone’
and ‘resume normal service as soon as possible’. We can consider
the conjunction of wellbeing and resilience as the ‘wellspring’ of
healthy, fulfilled life.
Conversely, trauma and poor early attachment experiences
inhibit the development of well-regulated, organised, ‘joined
up’ neurobiological systems. The lack of basic organisation and
balance compromises inner flexibility (Cicchetti 2010); response
patterns become rigid or chaotic, or may swing between these two
extremes. These characteristic attachment patterns, the antithesis
of resilience and wellbeing, are associated with significant, longer-
term physical and mental ill health (van der Kolk 2005).
Research has shown that foetal exposure to high levels of cortisol

can alter or destroy neurons in ‘middle storey’ limbic areas of
the brain such as the hypothalamus (Gerhardt 2004). Within this
essential component of the regulatory hypothalamic-pituitary-
adrenal (HPA) feedback system, cortisol can further dysregulate
vital neurophysiological systems. These include the dysregulation
of cortisol production itself (Schore 1994, 2001b), the volatility
of the emotionally based memory system and learned emotionally
loaded responses co-ordinated by the twin amygdalae, and the
under-development of ‘feel-good factor’ neurochemicals such

as dopamine, endorphins and oxytocin (Cozolino 2002). This
neurobiological ‘cascade’ provides a clear example of a complex
biofeedback response, altering internal control systems in
response to direct experience. Long-term poor management of
stress appears unavoidable, leading to difficulties in areas such as
self-awareness, self-control, thinking and reasoning, and in the
functioning of the immune system.
Moreover, cortisol is known to affect the development of the
neurons of the limbic hippocampi during the pre- and peri-natal
period (Eliot 2000; Schore 2001b), although, functionally, they
do not come ‘on line’ until the third year of life and recall of
memories of events below five years of age is usually limited.
The hippocampal structures are intrinsically involved in the
creation of explicit, long-term, verbally based memories and the
formation of the ‘coherent narrative’, or real life-story, which
underpins children’s awareness and understanding of themselves
as beings. The hippocampus of each cerebral hemisphere logs the
who, what, when and where of youngsters’ experiences, although
each functions in distinct ways: the left lays down the bare facts
and the right records personal, ‘episodic’ events.
Siegel (2010) describes the paired hippocampi as masters
of ‘puzzle piece’ (jigsaw) assembly; together they communicate
with other ‘higher’ limbic areas, such as the orbito-prefrontal
cortex (OFC), and connect to the top-storey ‘thinking brain’.
This integrative function is vital, enabling us to make sense of,
learn from and adapt to individual circumstances appropriately.
The hippocampi can continue to grow throughout the lifetime,
facilitating the creation and storage of new memories and their
integration into our awareness. It is likely that stress-related over-
production of cortisol will continue to inhibit neural growth
in the long term and hence to interfere with explicit memory
formation and conscious recall. Without the facility of conscious,
focused ‘remembering’, our flexibility of response to circumstance
is compromised; choices will be ‘closed’; and ‘knee-jerk’
emotionally driven reactions, rather than ‘open’ and considered

responses, will predominate.
Both a fundamentally dysregulated neurobiological ‘alarm’
system and a weakly developed sense of self, accessible memories
and ‘personal narrative’ affect our potential for self-awareness
and our capacity to understand, relate to and infer the intentions
of other people meaningfully. This complex, developmentally
acquired, process of self-knowledge includes both ‘emotional
literacy’ (of self ) and ‘mindreading’ (of others) (Fonagy and
Target 1997); both involve the ‘wiring up’ of mirror neuron (MN)
circuits. Thus the relative lack of intrapersonal and interpersonal
‘literacy’ we may see in later childhood and adulthood is
underpinned by the dis-stressing and dis-organising relational
experiences of the earliest years, highlighting the importance of
beginning the repair process as soon as possible and helping our
children develop the ‘coherent narratives’ that help them make
sense of their past, present and future.
Mindfulness (‘mindsight’, ‘mindreading’,

‘thinking about thinking’)
The capacity for logical, reasoned thought
becomes possible when children acquire
sufficient sensory and emotional literacy,
language and memory of objects and events to
make sense of, and express, themselves, plus
the wherewithal to become mindful of others’
thoughts and feelings (‘think about thinking’).
The origins of mindfulness lie in the attunement of caregivers in
healthy attachment relationships (Siegel 2010) that allows children
to transform ‘concrete’ thoughts, centred around themselves in
the moment, into more abstract concepts that can be categorised,
considered and stored ‘symbolically’, in language-based form, and
readily available for recall.
Parents must continue to help their children extend their
range of experience and vocabulary and provide more detailed
explanations and insights into their inner and outer world.
By helping youngsters become more socially and emotionally

aware, mirroring, modelling and putting feelings, actions and
thoughts into words, parents provide meaning for their children
and make vital cognitive connections for them, so that they
can extend their capacity for reasoned thought, mature social
interactions and intellectual growth. MN circuits play a major
role in the development of mindfulness (Siegel 2007), making the
world more coherent, predictable and hence safer, for children to
function well, form meaningful relationships and thrive.
Having insufficient experience of being ‘mirrored’, of ‘sharing
attention’ and ‘sharing minds’, or of being ‘held in mind’ within
consistent, nurturing attachment relationships, neglected and
abused children are unable to be mindful of other people: they
struggle to identify their feelings, reflect on their actions and
thoughts, or predict their intentions. Consequently they are
frequently ‘out of synch’ in social situations and struggle with close
relationships, including with peers. This, in turn, increases their
sense of alienation and inherent ‘badness’. Lack of mindreading
abilities is also likely to interfere with children’s ability to plan and
organise, and hence executive functioning.
Events at and following birth can also have adverse effects on infants: where
the ‘choice of knitting needle size’, ‘selection of pattern’, the mode of ‘casting
on’ and ‘choice and number of stitches’ form the next vital developmental
stage. These processes, passed down through generations, bring expectations
that ‘texture’, ‘thickness of wool’, ‘diameter of needles’, number and form
of ‘stitches’, and ‘wool handling’ characteristics will follow established
protocols. Any minor variations due to individual characteristics and
cultural practices remain within well-defined parameters. In families
where knitting patterns and handling methods diverge more markedly, the
potential for – further ‘breaks’, ‘holes’, ‘tangles’, variations in ‘texture’,
‘fibre structure’ and ‘tensile strength’, the establishment of incomplete or
distorted ‘stitch loops’, and altered ‘tension’ – to adversely affect outcomes
increases significantly. Moreover the earlier the interruption to the overall
developmental process the greater is the potential for continuing ‘flaws’:
causing further ‘cascades’ of ‘pattern’ distortions that affect individual

potential and making repair more difficult.
Sensitive and timely structural and functional ‘quality checks’ are
therefore essential, with a clear focus on identifying subtle but significant
factors that can disrupt the ‘manufacturing’ process and affect longer-term
outcomes. Putting these safeguards in place is clearly cost-effective and
should be given the highest priority: it is much easier to pick up a ‘dropped
stitch in row four’ than if it remains undiscovered until ‘row 50’.
As an example, ‘standard’ forceps deliveries are known to raise
cortisol levels significantly (Gitau et al. 2001). Premature or ill
babies placed in special care (SCIBU), though owing their survival
to highly skilled clinical interventions, are significantly distressed
by untimely separation from their mothers, with whom they have
become intimately connected in the womb. New-borns are able
to identify their mothers’ smell (MacFarlane 1975) and voice
(DeCasper and Fifer 1980) within hours or days of birth: these
essential sensory adaptations, promoting bonding and survival,
are recognisable throughout the mammalian kingdom. For new-
born infants, even brief periods of separation are experienced
as a ‘lifetime’ and can seriously raise stress, and hence cortisol,
levels (Schore 1994, 2001b). Thus the traumatic separations
and frequent changes in handling and sensory input intrinsic to
many clinical situations can compromise early bonding in sick
and pre-term infants, exaggerate their experiences of distress, and
affect the basic ‘stress response settings’ that vitally underpin their
future developmental pathways.
Absent, too, will be the essential two-way ‘mirroring
experiences’ and intimate contact, both tangible and visual, which
soothe and regulate infants’ brainstem functions such as breathing
and heart rate (Reebye and Stalker 2008; Trevarthen 2001). The
subsequent reduction in serotonin receptor formation and the
‘neurophysiological cascade’ of unhealthy stress responses (Schore
1994) increases basic arousal levels, further alters biofeedback
processes and compromises long-term wellbeing and resilience.
Under normal circumstances, ‘good enough’ parents have
continual opportunities to recognise their babies’ responses and
the capacity to reflect these in their own interactions: beginning a

‘mirroring’ process that promotes the growth of ‘mirror neurons’
(Iacoboni et al. 2005).
These, in turn, facilitate ongoing understanding and learning.
Simultaneously, the spontaneous pleasure and wonder infants
evoke in their caregivers is reflected back and encourages further
pleasurable sensations in babies, stimulating the secretion of
neurotransmitters, such as serotonin, and the formation of
numerous neural receptors: ‘messengers of wellbeing’. Benefits
include physical good health, through the intrinsically linked
immune system (Schore 1994, 2001a), as well as the positive
effects of these chemical messengers on children’s emotional
health (Siegel 1999).
Infants and young children who remain with, or swiftly return to, stable
birth families are likely to fare much better than those subjected to further
breaks in caregiving, whether through changes in parents’ relationships,
multiple caregivers or entry into the care system. Sadly, in the latter the
burgeoning ‘garment’ that is the young child is exposed to unpredictable
changes of ‘knitting needle’ properties, such as ‘gauge, length, material and
colour’ and ‘stitch choice’. These factors, alongside unavoidable alterations
in ‘handling patterns’, greatly increase the potential for individual
variation. Inevitably there will be continuing changes in ‘tension’: just
as no two persons knit with precisely the same ‘tightness or looseness’ so,
too, each caregiver parents in unique ways, to which children must try to
adapt and of which they must try to make sense. The potential for further
‘dropped’, ‘twisted’, ‘picked up’ or ‘out of sequence stitches’ abounds.
Let us now consider the circumstances for changes in ‘tension and style’
inherent when any ‘knitter’ takes over from another temporarily and then
returns the garment to the original ‘handler’. It is important to recognise
that this will be the case during even brief periods of contact or respite,
both formal and informal, or when infants attend nursery, arrangements
that are common for looked after children and in the histories of adopted
children. Furthermore, experienced professional carers, including nursery
staff and respite and longer-term foster carers, can become set in their
caregiving patterns and less sensitive and flexible to the individual needs of
their charges: less ready to ‘switch needles’, ‘alter tension’ or ‘change stitch’
from ways they have previously found effective.
Foster and nursery care providers may, over time, develop seemingly
functional patterns of dealing with ‘troubled children’, based on perceiving
them as ‘controlling’, ‘manipulative’, ‘aggressive’ or ‘attention-seeking’.
Consequently they may unwittingly adopt parenting patterns that reinforce
children’s own ‘stuck’ perceptions of themselves as ‘difficult’ or ‘unlovable’,
consolidating their difficulties. Friends and family members may contribute
to these negative self-images, for example giving parenting advice, based on
their own experiences of having raised ‘neurotypical children’ (Cartwright
and Morgan 2008), that is unsuitable for troubled ones. Siblings may
play on the ‘bad reputation’ of youngsters to displace blame for their own
actions; older distressed children may take advantage of younger or more
vulnerable youngsters, perhaps re-enacting the abuse they witnessed or
experienced in their families of origin.
Bear in mind, too, that not all knitting is done with ‘one pair of
needles’, representing a parenting couple. There are many ‘single-needle
knitters’ (lone parents and carers), represented by the ‘circular needle’
and ‘four needle knitters’, families where caregiving may be shared by
several generations. Looked after, or adopted, children often move through
several households in their formative years and experience several of these
variations: posing further challenges to their sense of stability, security and
predictability. Consequently they can become increasingly set and inflexible
in their social, emotional, cognitive and behavioural responses, feeling ever
more helpless in the hands of changing caregivers and an unpredictable
world.
Unfortunately, inadequate, ineffective and destructive ‘knitters’ bring
an additional dimension of stress to the ‘knitting process’. Unpredictable
‘knitters’ can exacerbate existing ‘irregularities’, with additional
tendencies to ‘unravel’ or ‘slip stitches’ that further compromise growth
and development. Abusive ‘knitting’ contributes powerfully to ‘tangles,
knots and dropped or picked-up stitches’, alongside further changes in
‘stitch pattern’. Moreover, inattentive, neglectful ‘knitters’ frequently ‘drop
stitches’, creating serious ‘holes’ and ‘lack of connection’ in the growth
of the ‘delicate garment’: hence neglectful parenting is likely to create
the greatest degree of damage to the developing and ‘finished product’.
This emphasises the need to make decisions about children’s welfare as

soon as possible, offering support to birth parents likely to struggle and
establishing clear expectations for standards of caregiving. Assessing
opportunities for change within realistic time-limits and determining
whether parental ‘knitting’ is ‘good enough’ can mitigate the damaging
impact on children of repeated, failed rehabilitation attempts.
Throughout the developmental phase from birth to three
years of age, there are exponential changes in the nature and form
of the neural networks that link mind and body, alongside the
establishment of increasingly specific areas and structures of the
brain itself. When young children experience consistent, sensitive
and attuned feedback from their caregivers (during the moment-
by-moment ‘dance of attachment’) their physiological and
neurological development and the formation and specialisation
of brain structures, such as areas of the prefrontal cortex, will
go well (Trevarthen 2001). These, in turn, form the basis for the
integration and healthy development of the ‘top storey’, thinking
brain and establishing essential wellbeing and resilience over the
lifetime (Siegel 1999). We now explore some of these processes
in greater detail.
During their first three years, well-cared-for youngsters’
growing sense of safety, comfort and belonging allows the
‘thermostats’ of their ANS to become well modulated and
further, healthy neurological connections to be created and
strengthened through the myelinisation of the nerve fibres with
a ‘protective outer coat’ (Siegel 1999). The secretion of essential
neurotransmitters such as serotonin and dopamine also permit the
smooth flow of information from external receptors (such as skin,
ears, eyes, nose) and internal receptors (e.g. muscles, joints and
internal organs) (Reebye and Stalker 2008) to increasingly defined
‘receiving’ areas of the brain: allowing swift and appropriate
physical and emotional responses. During this period, youngsters
develop an increasingly intimate awareness and mastery of
their physical selves, begin to identify and make sense of their
bodily and emotional feelings, and develop confidence in the
predictability of their world and of themselves. These form the
‘internal working models’ (IWMs) described by Bowlby (1973),

an essential ‘representational memory’ function of the orbito-
prefrontal cortex (OFC) (Schore 1994).
Initially activated by ‘natural’ feedback from caregivers’ eye
contact, gestures and ‘baby talk’ (Gerhardt 2004), the ‘dance of
attachment’ between parent and infant that encourages positive
IWMs to develop also provides the optimal environment for
the establishment of the mirror neuron system (MNS), allowing
youngsters to anticipate and infer others’ actions and intentions
(Siegel 2010). It is also believed to facilitate the recognition and
‘decoding’ of emotions in others: in turn enhancing children’s
‘emotional literacy’ and the development of empathy (Carr et al.
2003). This capacity to ‘read’ the feelings of both self and others
is understood to be mediated through the caregiver’s unconscious
mirroring of the neurobiological state of the observed infant
and the neurobiological linking of these physical feelings to the
emotions they represent (Siegel, 2010). This can be described
as ‘the feeling of feelings’, an essential function that comes ‘on
stream’ gradually within the reciprocal ‘dance of attachment’.
Areas most closely identified with the MNS lie in the middle
prefrontal cortex and insula (Siegel 2007), contributing to the
building of a ‘staircase’ of connections between the lower, middle
and top ‘storeys’ of the brain.
Simultaneously, the consistent, attuned responses of primary
caregivers during the early months encourage the development
of object permanence (OP) (Goldman-Rakic et al. 1983). This
provides the basis for youngsters’ increasing recognition that
they themselves exist, even when alone: reducing feelings
of abandonment and powerlessness that could otherwise be
overwhelming. This can be understood as acquiring the sense of
‘feeling felt’ (Siegel 1999) and understood: of increasingly being
‘held in mind’ by attachment figures (the figurative ‘secure base’
(Bowlby 1969) from which children feel safe to move out into the
world). Damasio (2006) suggests that this challenges Descartes’
well-known statement ‘I think therefore I am’, proposing that a
more accurate statement might be ‘I am therefore I think’.
Object permanence
Object permanence (OP) plays a major part in
the establishment of a secure base. Continuity,
consistency and responsiveness of caregivers
are all essential for children to acquire OP
(Bomber 2007). At birth, babies have no
concept of themselves or of the world: it is
only through repeated experience that they
learn that objects and people continue to exist when they cannot
be felt, seen or heard. From this youngsters become aware that
they, too, continue to ‘be’ whether or not their caregivers are in
close proximity (Williams 2004): that they do not disappear or
cease to exist but remain ‘held in mind’ over time (object self-
permanence, OSP)(van Gulden 2010).
The acquisition of OP is directly related to the development of
our memory systems. Our earliest memories are sensory-based,
and are processed and stored according to their emotional value
by the mid-storey amygdala, particularly in the right hemisphere.
These non-verbal memories, also known as implicit, procedural
or body memories, begin to be consolidated from around eight
months; they are not readily brought to mind through conscious
recall. It is only in the third year that explicit, verbal, narrative
memories begin to be stored in the mid-storey hippocampal
areas, particularly in the left hemisphere. Here memories of
objects, people and experiences are symbolically represented
through language and are ‘hooked’ to specific events, locations
and perceived causality; they can be intentionally accessed and
recounted. Both memory systems are significantly involved in the
establishment of OP and object constancy (OC).
Interrupted early attachment experiences interfere with the
development of OP (Bomber 2007), leaving children, young
people and even adults with a sense of abandonment and isolation.
They have a persisting sense of helplessness and hopelessness,
feeling they have little or no control over their chaotic world.
They believe there is no-one predictably ‘there’ for them whom
they can trust to keep them safe and lack affirmation that they
themselves continue to exist (OSP). To infants these felt like

potentially life-threatening situations; even brief separations in the
present can trigger overwhelming feelings that profoundly affect
their behaviour. Since all memory is experience-based, neglected
and abused children’s memory systems reflect their early sensori-
motor and emotional distress and continue to affect their
perceptions and responses through their MN systems.
Secure base
Parents need to establish a secure base
(Bowlby 1988) for their children to allow
them to feel safe, cared for, worthy of love,
able to be healthily dependent, and to trust
that their needs will be met appropriately.
Parents should be attuned to their children’s
needs, responsive and readily available for
them both physically and emotionally, throughout their childhood.
By providing a predictable, dependable, nurturing environment,
caregivers create a solid foundation upon which young children
can build a sense of trust, acceptance and belonging. They can
then move into the world with growing confidence in their self-
worth and competence, able to form meaningful relationships and
to develop resilience and wellbeing.
Failure to provide a consistent secure base means that
infants and young children experience the world as confusing,
unpredictable and hostile (Solomon and George 1999). They
remain on physiological ‘high alert’, unable to trust that caregivers
will take care of, protect and guide them. Their sub-optimal
neurobiological response patterns will continue to adversely affect
their sense of security and trust, their emotional and behavioural
responses, and their capacity to form meaningful relationships
throughout their lives.
Subsequent to the development of OP, object constancy (OC)

can be established. Here any given ‘object’, animal, vegetable
or mineral, can be perceived as remaining the same, despite
variations in appearance or behaviour. For example, the cherry
tree in the garden is recognised as the same tree, whether leafless
in winter, bearing buds and blossom, or in full leaf. Similarly,
‘Mummy’ is recognisable as ‘Mummy’, whether wearing a hat, in
her nightdress, watching TV, smiling or scowling. In particular
‘Mummy’ remains ‘Mummy’ through all her moods and actions,
‘good’ and ‘bad’. Youngsters can also see themselves as ‘all round’
individuals, rather than one-dimensional beings represented by
one dominant feeling or behavioural state.
Object constancy
Opportunities for exploration of self, other
people and the world around them allows
children to make greater sense of their body
sensations, feelings, responses and thoughts
across a wider range of experiences. Gradually,
as their experience, awareness, memory and
understanding expand, children come to know
that things such as ‘my teddy’ stay the same whether they are clean
or dirty, wearing their jacket or hat, or have both eyes or have lost
one along the way. Similarly other people can be recognised as
the same over time, place, action or mood. Eventually children
‘get it’ that they, too, are the same individual whether at home or
outside, in the morning or the afternoon, dressed up or wearing
no clothes, sleeping or awake, or happily playing or on their own
and feeling upset.
As for every step along the developmental path, parents need
to provide a wide infinite range of experiences and opportunities
for their children to acquire object constancy (OC) at the
‘right time’. Ongoing nurture and structure (see p.52) must be
complemented by a new and gradually changing balance between
consistency and predictability, novelty and variety of sensations and
feelings. Often this is the time when caregivers take their children
to ‘parent and toddler’ groups, playgrounds and soft ball areas,
broadening children’s horizons whilst remaining readily available in
the background.
In addition, healthy attachment figures tune into their youngsters’
feeling states, reflecting and modulating them accordingly (Schore
2004; Siegel 1999). In this way they help their children practise
moving smoothly from one feeling and behavioural state of being
to another. They accept all aspects of their children, ‘good’ or
‘bad’, whilst helping them return to comfortable ‘baseline’ states
and practise pro-social behaviour. In doing so they help children
to identify, accept and integrate every part of themselves:
consolidating their sense of object self-constancy (OSC).
Without access to attuned and consistently nurturing caregivers,
young children cannot come to know themselves as ‘whole’,
assured that they are loved and valued for all of themselves,
however they are feeling and behaving. They will have insufficient
opportunities to practise managing controlled state transitions and
take responsibility for all of their actions, or acquire the OSC vital
for self-awareness, self-control, self-confidence and self-esteem.
The acquisition of OC protects youngsters against the challenges

of external inconsistency, encouraging the expectation of
overall predictability and stability whilst fostering flexibility and
adaptability. Young children also learn to integrate their own
shifts in feelings and behaviours: to know and accept that ‘all of
this is me’. An overwhelming emotional state can be recognised
as transient, not ‘forever’, shielding children from the potential
distress created by internal feeling state changes. For Dan Siegel
(2010) the ability to be flexible, adaptable, consistent, energised
and stable (FACES) forms the core of resilience, defined as ‘the
maintenance of high levels of positive affect and wellbeing in the
face of adversity’ (Davidson 2000). Thus OP and OC contribute to
youngsters’ capacity to ‘bounce back’ when faced with difficulties
and to avoid being overwhelmed by them, or developing rigid
behaviours to circumvent them.
A key area of the prefrontal cortex linking all three storeys

of the brain is the orbito-prefrontal cortex (OFC). It has been
shown (e.g. Schore 2001a, 2001b) that a consistently ‘good
enough’ ‘dance of attachment’ with primary caregivers fosters the
development of those bilateral areas of the limbic brain that forge
pivotal ‘staircases’ to the cortex and its maturing capacity for
reasoning, negotiating and impulse control. With its direct and
powerful connections to the emotionally driven amygdalae of the
limbic ‘middle storey’, particularly in the right hemisphere, and
its capacity to integrate powerful feelings within the hippocampal
memory storage system, more highly developed on the left side
of our ‘semi-detached’ brain, the healthily functioning OFC
encourages balance, coherence and flexibility of response. Sadly,
in youngsters with histories of early maltreatment, especially
of neglect, development of the OFC tends to be inhibited:
their sense of security will be compromised, leading to more
rigid (depressed, ‘shut off ’, avoidant), or chaotic (over-reactive,
impulsive, ‘switched on’), responses than would ordinarily be
expected in toddlers.
The semi-detached brain

The human brain can be visualised as a house
divided horizontally into three storeys and
vertically into two semi-detached dwellings. The
brainstem, limbic areas and neo-cortex (‘grey
matter’) are represented by the horizontal
layers. The vertical division represents the two
brain hemispheres, each half having similar
room layouts. There are connecting ‘walkways’ that link the
two halves (the corpus callosum, or ‘white matter’). All areas of
the building share plumbing and electrical systems running both
vertically and horizontally (the neurobiological systems). From
here neurobiological connections run throughout the body, linking
external and internal sensory and motor systems to relevant parts
of the semi-detached brain.
Just as the owners of each semi-detached house ‘customise’

their home, perhaps turning a ‘bedroom’ into a ‘library’ or
‘playroom’, we find differentiation and specialisation of function
of brain areas between the hemispheres. For example, the OFC
develops more, and matures earlier, on the right-hand side than
on the left. From an evolutionary perspective, differentiation of
function confers greater survival value, allowing increased brain
functioning from the same basic number of brain cells. There
is a concomitant need for enhanced communication systems
throughout the semi-detached brain in order for disparate brain
areas to function as an integrated whole.
Adverse early attachment experiences interfere not only with
the growth and specialisation of specific brain areas but also with
the connections between them. Some plumbing and electrical
(neurobiological) circuits may not become established, whilst
others form ‘closed circuits’. So, for example, children may exhibit
sensory integration difficulties (SIDs), difficulties with emotional
and behavioural regulation and literacy; ‘higher’ cognitive skills,
such as executive function (EF) (see p.41) and mindfulness, are
likely to be impaired.
Moreover, children’s capacity to over-ride ‘bottom storey’

brainstem systems also remains limited: meaning basal
physiological responses such as heart or respiration rates will be
more frequent, powerful and dysregulated. Since these somatic
sensations are transmitted, via the energising of powerful vagal
nerve responses (the ‘fight, flight or freeze’ reactions), to internal
sensory and emotional receptors (Porges et al. 1996), they evoke
potentially overwhelming feelings of loss of control in children.
Over time this pattern of volatility becomes relatively fixed and
forms the basis for children’s perceptions (IWMs) of themselves:
‘what I do’ and consequently ‘who I am’. This perpetuates
‘out of control’ behaviours and influences others’ perceptions
and responses, leading to a destructive, self-reinforcing cycle
involving distorted OC formation. Once established it can prove
highly resistant to change. Letting go of ‘this is me and how I do
things’, however unhelpful, may be too terrifying for children to

contemplate: a challenge that may, in turn, test the most securely
attached of caregivers.
In summary, youngsters raised by maltreating caregivers
experience serious attachment-trauma which seriously impacts
their global development. This is evident in markedly different
configurations of perceptions, beliefs and behavioural responses
that appear fixed and resistant to change. Research shows that
the majority of these children display disorganised attachment
patterns (Shemmings and Shemmings 2011): the most serious and
dysfunctional of insecure attachment patterns. Often recognised
in early aggressive or compliant behaviour and employed
unconsciously by youngsters to provide an illusory sense of
control in their otherwise inexplicable world, such patterns are
said (Spangler and Grossmann 1999) to be underpinned by
patent dysregulation and disorganisation of children’s emerging
neurobiological systems.
At this point a timely reminder that neuroplasticity continues
to offer hope for change throughout the lifetime is reassuring.
The good news is that understanding neurotypical development
and awareness of children’s early developmental history allows
us to create effective therapeutic reparenting programmes
individually tailored to their needs. Although it is vital to begin
the ‘reshaping’ and ‘repairing’ process as early as possible, when
body–mind mechanisms are at their most malleable and less
‘collateral damage’ has occurred in terms of self-concepts, social
interactions and expectations and the brain–body mechanisms
that underpin these, it is never too late to ‘take youngsters back’,
‘reset their thermostats’, reprogramme their response patterns and
offer them opportunities for lasting, healthy change.
Neuroplasticity
No matter what individuals’ early experiences,
their degree of dysfunction or their age, the
capacity for repair persists (Siegel 2010). For
example, current research suggests that people
with Parkinson’s disease, an as yet incurable
degenerative condition, can be helped to
‘reprogramme’ their neurological systems to
maintain residual control of their movements. There is considerable
over-production of neurons during foetal development, so, despite
periods of rapid ‘pruning’ in the early years, during adolescence
and during the natural process of aging (reducing the total neuron
count), it remains possible to ‘turn on’ ‘redundant’ brain cells
throughout the lifespan.
This adaptability, or neuroplasticity, allows the formation of new
neurological circuits capable of at least partially repairing ‘faults’
in the neurobiological system. Clearly the earlier opportunities
become available for neural ‘rewiring’ the better the outcome is
likely to be. Not only will there be a larger available neuron ‘pool’,
there will also have been less time for the ‘firing and wiring’ of
unhealthy circuits and thus for distorted perceptions, responses
and cognitions to become ‘hot-wired’ and habitual.
Moreover, opportunities for developmental reparenting
strategies are greater in the early years, when the social
acceptability and expectations of close physical contact and
supervision are higher; this also holds true for many children with
physical and learning disabilities. Sadly older children may become
pseudo-independent, resisting parental help, insisting on ‘personal
freedom’ or developing ‘manipulative’ patterns which can work
against them getting what they need. We must help all our hurt
children find opportunities for developmental repair. Hence an
understanding of attachment and development must underpin any
therapeutic reparenting programme (Archer and Gordon 2004).
From our experience, equally fundamental to repair and
healing is the understanding that ‘there is always a way’. Having
confidence in our capacity to bring about healthy change using a
developmental attachment template is at least half the battle. We

must also learn to take good care of ourselves in order to be at
our best to take good care of our children.
Continuing our knitting metaphor, we might think of children in the

‘middle years’, beyond early years schooling, as representing the main ‘body’
of our garment. They have taken on their basic shape but have several
more years of continued growth before reaching the extended reshaping
periods of puberty and adolescence. It is during this ‘middle years’ stage
that consolidation and continuation of ‘good enough’ patterns already
acquired occurs in the steady hands of ‘good enough knitters’. Some natural
variation within expected norms is to be expected, as the individuality of
each garment becomes apparent and contributes to its maturing style and
character.
This period should continue to be one of vigilance for ‘quality
controllers’ at home and school, where more atypical ‘pattern settings’ and
wider variations in the strength and nature of ‘knitting materials’ and
‘styles’, due to early ‘mishandling’, can become more evident alongside
increasing expectations of ‘age and stage’ conformity. The potential
disparity between home and outside-the-home ‘handlers’ (e.g. teaching
staff) may also become increasingly apparent to ‘handlers’ themselves or
their ‘co-workers’ (partners), to fellow ‘garments-in-formation’ (peers) and
frequently to the ‘proto-garments’ (children) themselves. This last element
is readily overlooked yet fits with the distorted OC formation of maltreated
youngsters.
Expressed in the now familiar phrase ‘neurons that fire together
wire together’, nerve cells, located throughout the body’s nervous
system and concentrated in the brain, have the greatest opportunity
or incentive to interact in their formative stage, allowing them to
establish and maintain the strongest connections over the lifetime.
Thus the ‘smart brain’ that can anticipate and predict events is
created, enhancing individual life-chances, health and wellbeing.
In our ‘knitting’ we might think of adjacent ‘stitches’, horizontally
and vertically, forming solid connections that continue to run through and
influence the functionality of the ‘garment’ – at least until the inevitable
wear and tear of age takes its toll. By then, hopefully, it will have been
much loved and valued, able to offer comfort to its owners, and inform
design patterns for future ‘models’! Contrariwise, the ‘stitches’ of poorly
cast-on or mishandled ‘pieces of knitting’ have weaker, often ‘tangled’,
connections, inappropriate ‘links’ and ‘loops’, ‘knots’ or ‘gaping holes’.
The dysfunctional patterns becoming established adversely influence
outcomes: these ‘garments’ may lack basic ‘shape’ or ‘strength’, readily
‘unravel’, be less likely to lead to pleasing ‘finished products’, fail to meet
‘normal standards’, or be subject to negative perceptions and even rejection
within mainstream circles. Such ‘garments’ are also more likely to be ‘left
on sale’ or ‘returned as unsatisfactory’. Of some concern is the potential
for ‘self-destruction’, or attempts by inexperienced ‘handlers’ to ‘make
good’. The latter may employ ineffective ‘cover up’ strategies that aim to
compensate for fundamental ‘snags’ or apply more radical and potentially
damaging strategies such as wholesale ‘pulling back of the yarn’ or untimely
‘unpicking of the joins’. The ‘garment’ may, quite literally, be ‘torn apart
at the seams’, rather than receiving the gentle ‘handling and reshaping’ it
requires.
Returning to our human adult-in-formation, the body–brain–
mind mechanisms of primary school children must continue to
connect and consolidate. At this developmental stage, neurotypical
youngsters show a maturing capacity for self-regulation (e.g.
physical and emotional self-soothing, self-calming, self-awareness
and impulse control) and for increasingly rational and reasoned
thought (Siegel 1999). The billions of neurons that ‘fire together’
and ‘wire together’ form increasingly complex ‘information
networks’ facilitating perception, categorisation and memory
formation. Thus key cognitive processes of interpretation and
anticipation of future events and capacities for self-reflection and
‘mindreading’ come ‘on line’. MN circuits play a critical role in
these maturing functions.
Throughout the ‘middle years’, children require countless
opportunities to consolidate and refine their neural connections
according to individual needs, influenced both by environmental
factors and innate genetic potential. During this highly complex
interactive process, the structure and mechanisms of children’s
brains demonstrate further differentiation according to function

and further refinement and speed of response (Schore 1994).
Developmental focus is increasingly on cognitive ‘top storey’
processes. Executive function, the capacity to conceive of, plan,
instigate and carry out more complex thinking, now becomes a
key feature (Dawson and Guare 2004). Over and above differences
due to ‘nature and nurture’, personal, social and intellectual
development will be affected by children’s expectations and belief
systems, alongside the pressure of peers, caregivers and educators.
Executive function
A major step in children’s development is the
acquisition of the capacity to evaluate situations
and to plan, organise and respond appropriately
at home, at school and in the community. This
demands a high level of self-regulation, large
‘well-programmed’ knowledge and memory
banks, both non-verbal and verbal, the capacity
to draw on this information, and to apply it efficiently. It involves
mature integration of sensory and motor systems, facilitating
physical co-ordination and allowing youngsters to organise their
bodies in order to carry out actions conceived in their ‘thinking’
brains.
An ability to sustain attention, alter focus appropriately, inhibit
impulsivity and anticipate outcomes is also essential. Sufficient
‘bottom up’ brainstem and limbic developmental connections
must be established to allow a growing degree of ‘top down’
regulation, monitoring, reasoned thought, self-awareness and self-
control. Areas of the PFC are particularly associated with executive
function (EF).
Inconsistent, neglectful and abusive early caregiving means
that young children have inadequate opportunities for the ‘firing
and wiring’ of well-connected, well-organised neural networks,
including MN circuits. Areas of the brain, such as the OFC, may
not have been ‘turned on’ and fail to ‘light up’ when needed.
Since this area has been identified (Schore 1994) as the

‘hierarchical’ link between the brain’s middle and top storeys,
executive functioning tends to be significantly impaired.
Moreover, neurobiological ‘short circuits’ keep children in ‘high
arousal’ ready to respond through ‘fight, flight or freeze’ responses.
This further precludes the ‘switching on’ of vital ‘thinking’ areas
of the neo-cortex, leaving children prone to emotional reactivity,
impulsivity, poor attention control, limited access to linguistically
based memory banks and impaired cognitive abilities. Relationship
difficulties are also likely due to limited impulse control and
behavioural inhibition, and reduced capacity to identify and
predict others’ intentions appropriately. Impairment of EF is
associated with specific learning difficulties, attention deficit
hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), obsessive-compulsive disorder,
autistic spectrum disorders, Tourette’s syndrome, depression and
schizophrenia (Encyclopedia of Mental Disorders 2012).
The gradual extension from the ‘inner circle’, or secure base, of

primary caregivers and close family that becomes consolidated
in toddlerhood ‘takes off ’ during this period. Schools, clubs
and organised group activities play increasingly important roles
in the lives of primary school-aged youngsters, as the influence
of non-family adults and peers gains ground. This represents
a continuation of the ‘exploration’ phase of toddlerhood that
allows safe, limited practice of brief separations followed swiftly
by reunion with primary caregivers. In toddlerhood, youngsters
experiencing a ‘secure base’ begin to ‘internalise’ the security
with which ‘good enough’ caregivers have surrounded them, as
the closely linked concepts of trust, predictability, OP and OC
become increasingly embedded.
Exploration
Young children need to learn more about their
bodies, sensations, emotions and awareness
of the wider world through exploration and
expanding experience. As their secure base
extends, and their sense of OP becomes more
firmly established, toddlers literally begin to
‘find their feet’: starting to move out of the
intimate, ‘closed’ space they shared with their parents and using
their growing control over their bodies and minds to expand their
world.
It is from this extended secure base, with continuing ‘external’
reassurance and safe guidance, that young children take on
board parents’ behavioural expectations and ideals and begin to
monitor their own behaviour using these internalised guidelines.
Young children learn they can ‘keep in touch’ with their caregivers
metaphorically when away from them, knowing they are still being
thought about, ‘held in mind’ and cared for by them. Typically,
toddlers glance back regularly for confirmation of their parents’
continued presence and approval of their intended actions.
‘Good enough’ caregivers continue to enlarge and consolidate
this secure base, whilst simultaneously encouraging their youngsters
to try out new experiences and test themselves in different
situations. They remain ‘there’ for their children, responding when
they need to be protected and shown safe boundaries, or when
they need to ‘check in’, for reassurance, and ‘check out’ parental
reactions to their growing exploits, while encouraging them to
take their first steps towards independence.
As a consequence of inconsistent, unpredictable and hurtful
care, neglected and abused children are unable to ‘internalise’
the security and boundaries they need. The resulting inhibition
of exploration, or lack of awareness of safe limits, in this
‘practising’ stage of development means that children remain
fearful of separation and change or, conversely, seem oblivious to
danger (rigid or chaotic behaviours typically associated with lack
of wellbeing).
Feeling ‘held in mind’ (Siegel 1999), neurotypical pre-school

children engage in increasing exploration of their world, pushing
the boundaries yet feeling ‘held’ by the clear, safe limits provided
by their caregivers. In evolutionary terms, this facilitates the
gradual acquisition of independence that is vital in adulthood.
The ‘primary years’ provide exponentially greater opportunities
for practising and honing these essential ‘survival’ skills, within
graduated and ‘boundaried’ conditions, encouraging an increased
sense of self-awareness, individuality and self-efficacy. These
developmental processes are accompanied by the strengthening
of self-control and self-confidence, increasingly mature thinking,
reflection and decision-making skills.
The early attachment experiences of poorly nurtured or
overtly maltreated youngsters provide them with neither the
basic security and OP and OC, nor the maturing self-awareness
and cognitive capacities they require to face the challenges of
this period (Schore 1994). A significant number bring with them
poorly integrated sensori-motor systems, meaning, for example,
they are over-sensitive to touch or sound, or remain poorly
co‑ordinated (Reebye and Stalker 2008). Yet simultaneously
circumstances demand that they deal with the same age-and-
stage interactions, and are subject to the same behavioural and
educational pressures and expectations, as their peers. It is not
surprising that they struggle to conform and appear demanding
and ‘attention-seeking’ or unco-operative and withdrawn.
Many youngsters attempt to disguise their difficulties through
over-active behaviour, ‘showing off ’, ‘playing the clown’ and
‘challenging’ behaviour, or by over-compliance or ‘giving up’.
They are often misunderstood, described as having ‘emotional
and behavioural difficulties’ rather than educational difficulties in
the classroom, making the accurate recognition of, and provision
for, their special needs challenging (Bomber 2007). Essential
learning support systems may not be put in place and children
may slide further away from peer norms: generating animosity
in adults and peers, confirming their negative self-images and
perpetuating the behaviours they so desperately need help to

modify.
Typically, ‘polar opposite’ behavioural patterns emerge at this
time. On the one hand, youngsters present as quiet and inhibited:
‘daydreamers’ experienced as ‘no trouble’. They passively yet
firmly resist change, are wary of unfamiliar people and reluctant
to undertake new challenges or make simple choices. ‘Compliant’
children try hard to be likeable and to fit in: sometimes appearing
‘desperate’ to make and keep friends at all costs. They can appear
over-dependent on adults, yet attract little negative or focused
attention, since overall they strive to conform; consequently their
special neurodevelopmental, social and educational needs can
pass unrecognised.
Other traumatised youngsters can appear precociously
independent, often unable to ask for, or accept, help from others.
They may be described as ‘bright’, yet are easily distracted and
struggle to sit still and focus their attention, leading to disturbance
of peers and educators. These youngsters frequently lack basic
social skills and find peer relations problematic. Difficulties with
following instructions and co-operating with rules and requests can
lead to maladaptive behavioural strategies, further compromising
their learning potential. Children in this cohort tend to be ‘in
your face’ as they struggle to ‘feel felt and held in mind’: yet
this frequently results in their being left out of shared peer-group
activities and can lead to more formal exclusions by the adults in
charge. Increasingly, parents, group leaders and school staff find
it difficult to understand or deal with the challenges such children
pose, particularly in the context of a classroom, playground or
communal activity.
Lacking age-appropriate neurobiological organisation, many
previously maltreated youngsters find it harder in general to exert
impulse control, pay attention, follow instructions, stay on task
and organise themselves, their time, their thoughts and their
belongings. All these are vital prerequisites for effective learning
and executive functioning. Specific learning difficulties such as
dyslexia, dyspraxia, dyscalculia and receptive and expressive
language problems are common and can be understood in terms

of poor integration of sensory and motor systems alongside
the relative developmental immaturity of ‘top down’ cognitive
regulation of ‘bottom’ and ‘middle storey’ systems (Reebye and
Stalker 2008).
The compensatory strategies struggling youngsters adopt to
deal with these difficulties contribute further to a negative cycle
of development. Since these behavioural adaptations use up vital
energy, such children (even the ones described as ‘on the go
24/7’) are more readily exhausted. This in turn weakens their
already poor impulse control and capacity for reasoned thought
and they rapidly begin to decompensate. Whilst ‘good enough’
caregivers readily attribute toddlers’ angry or ‘naughty’ outbursts
to tiredness and make allowances accordingly, it is more difficult
to bear this in mind when dealing with a ‘stroppy’ nine-year-
old. Yet in neurodevelopmental terms that nine-year-old may
at that moment be functioning as a toddler. Negative feedback
continues the downward spiral as youngsters recognise that they
are perceived by others as ‘out of control’ and ‘bad’. Since this
confirms their negative self-image it consolidates their shame-
based, one-dimensional view of themselves: ‘this is who I am’
with the concomitant ‘this is what I do’.
Shame
Maltreated children frequently experience
extreme, inconsistent and abusive socialisation
interactions, without attachment repair: leading
to chronic, toxic shame. They are unable to
recognise or practise pro-social behaviours
and their behavioural repertoire can be
both inappropriate and limited. Moreover
their attachments will be compromised, leaving them feeling
abandoned, helpless and hopeless. So children enter our families
with continuing, unmanaged levels of dis-stress and dysregulated
neurobiological systems. Furthermore the overwhelming shame
experiences to which they were exposed significantly affect their

self-image; they come to believe that it is not their actions that
are unacceptable but that they themselves are unacceptable and
inherently ‘bad’.
Rather than ‘I made a mistake’ our children internalise the
message ‘I am a mistake’. As a result shame-based children
are highly sensitive to criticism, feeling that making mistakes is
potentially life-threatening, similar to the feelings engendered
when they were maltreated in infancy. Some develop coping
strategies based around an endless struggle to be ‘good enough’,
interspersed with ‘meltdowns’ when, inevitably, they ‘get it wrong’.
In turn, this confirms their worthlessness and saps their reserves of
energy, heavily compromising their wellbeing and resilience.
Others become adept at ‘inverting’ their feelings and responses:
denying any sense of wrong-doing and blaming everyone else for
the situations in which they find themselves. They frequently fail
to learn from their mistakes, leading to a persisting pattern of
anti-social behaviour. They feel alienated and frequently respond
with ‘shame-rage’: becoming verbally or physically abusive or
destructive. Their sense of self and their resilience and wellbeing
are also adversely affected.
There is a marked change in pattern of a ‘knitted garment’ once the ‘main

body’ reaches the appropriate ‘size’. In our metaphorical raglan-style
jumper, there is a gradual reduction in the ‘stitch count’ as the outline
narrows to form the ‘neck’. Shaping must proceed at the right time, at a
well-defined rate according to pre-determined patterns, to ensure that the
‘sleeves’ and ‘neck’ fit ‘seamlessly’ alongside other parts of the ‘garment’
as they too take shape and contribute to the finished article. An orderly
sequence of ‘decreasing’ and ‘casting off stitches’ is also required to facilitate
a good enough fit, ensuring the overall design criteria are met and articles
are ‘fit for purpose’.
Significant individual, or system, faults and issues in connection or
completion at this stage can affect final outcomes, albeit in fundamentally
different ways to the stages of ‘casting on’ and ‘early increasing stitch’
patterning. Now, instead of streamlining the finished ‘product’,
‘manufacturing glitches’ make it more difficult for the essential ‘joining

up’ of parts and adversely affect its functionality. However, there remains
a ‘wider window’, within which temporary ‘meltdown’, ‘downing of tools’
or ‘go slow’ interruptions to the ‘manufacturing’ process are less likely
to seriously alter final outcomes. Greater variation in input here, within
limits, is not only likely to have fewer adverse effects but it can, conversely,
contribute to the unique qualities of the ‘garment’. Major ‘faults’ are more
likely to be the result of poor ‘care and repair’ at the earliest stages of
‘manufacture’ than from ‘glitches’ at this stage. Putting right any noticeable
‘faults’ will also be simpler, since they will be more localised and less well
established.
So it is with young people as they approach the challenges
of puberty and adolescence. During this major developmental
‘double’ transition there is significant ‘neural pruning’ (Schore
1994), contrasting markedly with the ‘neural network’ building
that is a major feature of earlier developmental stages. Now the
number of functional brain cells is proportionately reduced,
preparing young people for further brain–mind–body integration,
developmental ‘joining up’ and maturing executive function
(Dawson and Guare 2004) and enabling them to meet the
complex demands of independent adulthood. This paves the way
for teens to become unique, separate individuals, able to connect
in quite different ways with their birth and adoptive families and
to establish lasting relationships and families of their own. These
‘cutting back’ and ‘joining up’ processes must operate in sequence
and in concert to facilitate the transition to adulthood.
However, despite the concurrent widening of the neurobio-
logical developmental ‘window’, adolescents are vulnerable to the
expanding opportunities and social challenges they face in their
daily lives. Ironically, as the maturation of their bodies and brains
occurs at differing rates and, simultaneously, important hormonal
changes are taking place, teenagers often act in immature and
risky ways. As if that were not enough, the social pressures of
peer groups begin to replace those of the family as the major
influence in the thinking and behaviour of even the most stable
individuals. Loyalties become increasingly allied with peers, and
previously acquired relationships, social mores and responsibili-

ties may be set aside temporarily in the quest for new ‘grown-up’
identities, outside existing family circles and influences.
We might compare this to the ‘exploratory phase’ of
toddlerhood, when young children first practise separation from
caregivers and broaden their horizons. The teen years bring with
them many similar challenges, alongside the same outbursts and
control battles toddlers engage in, although with significant
changes in the power dynamics. Many adolescents are as large as,
or larger than adults and are rightly encouraged to stand up for
themselves and be treated as equals in society. Unfortunately their
maturity of thinking and understanding of the responsibilities of
adulthood may not keep pace. The current gradual expansion
of the period of formal education and paucity of employment
opportunities may further contribute to the ‘gap’ between the
ideal of increasing independence and the reality of continuing
dependence, as well as between ‘teen norms’ and the ‘norms’ of
adult society in general.
In many mammalian species, adolescents separate themselves
from their families, often with active encouragement from their
parents, to form ‘roaming peer packs’. In time the ‘pecking
order’ of individuals becomes established, new alliances and
relationships built. Frequently males strive to prove themselves
physically to gain a foothold in the adult hierarchy whilst females
often seek less confrontational ways towards this goal. However,
sexual activity and procreation play a major role for both sexes;
the concepts of ‘survival of the species’ and ‘the selfish gene’
help us make sense of these behaviours. These age-and-stage
related trends have their counterparts in humans, although they
tend to be modified by social expectations of altruism, mutual
responsibilities and ‘the common good’.
Clearly the quality of early caregiving and subsequent
developmental attachments strongly influence the extent
to which this turbulent human adolescent ‘rite of passage’
becomes a temporary ‘blip’ or heralds an adulthood of social
and emotional turmoil, anti-social behaviour and challenging
or offending behaviour. The evolutionary-based ‘testing’ or

‘proving’ behaviours of temporary peer-group formation,
aggressive interactions, risk-taking and brief sexual encounters
will, in the former case, be transformed into species-determined
adult norms or, in the latter, become embedded in individuals’
behaviour, leading to continuing personal and social difficulties.
In human society, continuing socio-emotional connections to
caregivers, family and community often remain strong and can
‘hold’ adolescents whilst they make the transition to maturity.
Sadly, such psychological connections and supports are not
readily available to young people with poor attachment patterns.
Take, for example, the occasional teenage ‘experimentation’
with illegal substances. This is much more likely to lead to
serious misuse and addictions in young people with compromised
attachments than in securely attached individuals, where acceptable
social norms are more deeply embedded, neurobiological systems
are relatively well balanced and the ‘top storey’ thinking brain is
well established and functional. Unfortunately the disorganisation
of physiological systems and neural networks and poor executive
function in young people with poor attachment histories makes
them particularly vulnerable to risk-taking behaviours and
continuing drug use, as they attempt to ‘self-medicate’ and create
more order and balance throughout their dis-stressed bodies and
minds. The combination of lack of neurobiological homoeostasis
(systems balance) and poor cognitive function, leading to weak
‘top down’ controls, can be a lethal mix.
Maltreated individuals are often driven to behave beyond
social norms and expectations, since they possess poorly organised
brainstem and limbic circuits and have had fewer opportunities
to build mature cortical systems through which to apply reasoned
thought and impose top-down impulse controls where needed.
Since these young people also lack somatic self-awareness, any
real sense of self or positive identity, the adolescent stage of
‘proving’ themselves and establishing their adult identities will
necessarily be problematic. There is also a tendency for troubled
young people to group together and take their lead from the
most powerful and ‘wildest’ of the ‘gang’, meaning there are less
opportunities for positive peer role models to influence them for
the better.
Furthermore, young people with compromised developmental
attachments find this stage of separation and individuation
particularly challenging, since they have limited healthy
experiences of positive attachments to stand them in good stead.
Not having been able to practise healthy separation as youngsters
they struggle to manage healthy separation as they approach
adulthood. Instead the unresolved fear of abandonment, loss and
isolation felt in the past is mirrored in chaotic or rigid responses
in the present. Typically as young adults they avoid intimacy,
make fleeting yet often intense and dependent relationships, or
allow themselves to be victimised by more dominating friends
or partners in their struggle to avoid further abandonment and
create some sense of belonging.
Sadly, a significant number of adopted and fostered young people
attempt to separate sooner rather than later, often by their mid-teens –
despite their underlying need to remain and feel ‘held’. Here the ‘push me,
pull you’ dynamic between fear of rejection and fear of closeness creates
unbearable opposing ‘tensions’ that may overwhelm the whole family.
Preventing ‘casting off ’ from turning into ‘casting out’ can require almost
blind faith that one day our hurting young people will realise where they
truly belong and return ‘home’. Almost inevitably, as parents, we will
struggle to balance being ready to ‘pick up’ our young people again and
ensuring they do not slip back into old, distorted patterns of relating within
the family. Some teens and young adults may ‘drop more stitches’ or seem
to ‘unravel wildly’ on the way, yet by holding out ongoing opportunities to
‘pick up where we left off ’ we provide the vital, powerful message that ‘we
can work it out’ – together.
In essence, adopting the maxims ‘slower is faster’ and ‘less is more’ is
invaluable in encouraging independence in previously traumatised children.
Since they had serious interruptions to their attachment (‘casting on’) process
we must anticipate, and help them manage, corresponding difficulties with
‘casting off ’ (separation, moving out and moving on) in adolescence and
early adulthood. Almost inevitably they will require a longer period of
‘casting off ’ in order to ‘fill in the gaps’ and complete the developmental
attachment process. Inevitably, when it comes to the final ‘joining up’ of the
‘garment’, there will be some ‘pieces’ that are less well finished than others,
making the ‘sewing together’ potentially problematic. While some young
people may appear ‘ready to roll’, their true state of ‘readiness’ should be
judged in light of their early history, all-round ‘joined-upness’ and ‘good
fit’. Whilst the ‘survival pieces’ of the young person may be well developed,
the ‘trust’, ‘relationship’, ‘thinking’ and ‘self-awareness’ pieces may be much
less mature, requiring additional opportunities to develop fully.
Families, friends and professionals involved at this stage need
to recognise the true dynamics of the challenges faced by adoptive
families. Encouraging adopters to ‘reclaim’ their young people and
identifying effective ways of providing the ‘nurture and structure’
intrinsic to attachment, often well into adulthood, is vital to young
people’s wellbeing. Simultaneously, an awareness of functional,
rather than chronological, age can obviate potentially damaging
‘casting out’ scenarios, where parent–young adult dynamics
become increasingly untenable and ‘explosive’. Enabling families
to ‘hang in there’ and ‘hang together’ by providing therapeutic
mentoring is more effective than facilitating premature separations
and independence. Where personal or family safety is threatened,
meaning physical separation is advisable, continuing familial
connections should still be encouraged, so that attachment
‘strands’ are not irretrievably broken.
Nurture and structure

A balance of nurture and structure is vital to the
formation of early developmental attachments.
Whilst nurture plays the dominant role in the
establishment of a secure base, the regular
patterns of daily life provide a consistent,
predictable framework within our earliest
attachment relationships. In the exploratory
phase, beginning in toddlerhood, the focus changes, as the
provision of a clear structure becomes increasingly important to

young children’s security.
Nurture represents all the caring, loving, giving, playing and
sharing activities that ‘good enough’ parents provide intuitively
for their children. In general, irrespective of children’s age, we
recognise these in moment-by-moment, sensory, motor and
socio-emotional parent–child interactions. They ‘speak’ directly to
the bottom and middle levels of the brain, laying the foundations
for the structural connections and functional development of
children’s body–brain–mind systems.
Babies’ neurobiological systems are immature, lacking the
integration and organisation they need to live meaningful,
independent lives. It is through the structure of consistent,
predictable, stable caregiving that the essential ‘firing and wiring’
takes place. Rhythms, routines, co-regulation and simple house
rules provide the order, and hence the essential structure, for
children to feel safe, protected and ‘held’ within firm, loving
boundaries. Both nurture and structure are vital to the development
of secure attachment patterns.
As toddlers become more mobile and begin to ‘move out’
into the world and face new challenges, they need greater
parental structure and guidance in order to stay safe. Through
‘shame socialisation’ (see Schore 1994) good enough caregivers
begin to create ‘temporary emotional breaks’ in attunement that
generate just enough anxiety (guilt) in their youngsters for them to
recognise unacceptable behaviour. Then almost immediately, they
reconnect with their children to ‘repair’ these attachment breaks:
providing children with messages that whilst they disapprove of
their actions they still love and cherish them. Together, parents
and children are able to identify and practise pro-social behaviours
that, in evolutionary terms, ensure children’s acceptance within
their families and communities.
Due consideration must also be given to the effects on subsequent

generations of interrupted developmental attachments.
Parents with unresolved attachment issues, who have poor
self‑awareness, impulse controls and social and organisational

skills, find it difficult to attune to, make sense of and care for
their children appropriately. Parents’ compromised capacity for
self-regulation means they experience high levels of stress, remain
on neurobiological ‘red alert’ and may ‘unravel’ rapidly. Their
relationships are often ‘tangled’ and turbulent, their lives chaotic.
Seeking early independence, many of these young adults appear
driven to make intense, often inappropriate, relationships and
reach parenthood prematurely.
If adopters and foster carers have kept ‘the windows and doors
open’ and ‘kept hold of the strands firmly’, they are better placed
to provide a degree of stability for these young families. Whilst
the importance of grandparents as a ‘third-party secure base’ for
their grandchildren cannot be under-estimated, the role is often
fraught with difficulties. Conflicts between the needs of children
and grandchildren can be challenging; grandparents may feel
helpless to intervene or become the major caregivers for the next
generation. Currently there is little recognition of these issues, yet
it is an area that demands attention and the development of both
formal and informal support networks.
Chapter 2
Fitting the Pieces

Together
In Chapter 1 we identified specific issues that are pivotal in

influencing children’s physical, emotional, social, behavioural,
educational and cognitive development at each developmental
stage. We emphasised the impact that youngsters’ environment
(nurture) has on the extent to which they reach their genetic
potential (nature) from the moment of their conception to way
beyond the conception of the next generation. We explored why
the quality of physical and psychological caregiving has the
most significant influence on youngsters’ health and wellbeing
during the earliest developmental periods. We identified specific
factors that are implicated in the way children grow and develop
and began to examine how early identification of vulnerability
at each stage, alongside age-appropriate, developmentally based
attachment interventions, could enhance children’s lives and,
indeed, those of every member of their family and community. In
all, we hope we have been able to clarify some knotty issues and
tangled concepts that are sometimes beset by woolly thinking and
practice at the systemic level.
55
Developmentally based attachment

interventions
Children who experience insufficient nurture
and structure develop insecure attachment
patterns; good foundations of vital ‘bottom
up’ developmental sequences fail to be laid
down; poor internal wiring occurs; and mature
‘top down’ controls are compromised. Since
neurobiological systems remain ‘plastic’, by
providing a healthier caregiving environment we can encourage
the firing of new neuron patterns and begin to ‘rewire faulty
systems’. The more developmentally informed adopters and foster
carers can be, the earlier they can begin the therapeutic process of
reparenting, and the more opportunities they can provide for their
children to receive the ‘good enough’ nurturing and structured
caregiving they lacked, the greater are the therapeutic benefits.
Parents are in a unique position to undertake this life-enhancing
work, since they are, and can create and control, the ‘24/7’ healing
environment their children need.
Using our extended knitting metaphor we attempted to bring the

complexities of neurobiological development within the grasp of
a broader audience. In particular we tried to speak directly to
caregivers, since they represent the ‘hands on’ resource that is
most effective in untangling the strands, identifying the distorted
patterns shaping our children’s lives and working more confidently
and accurately. Simultaneously we endeavoured to avoid turning
clarity and simplicity into ‘reductionism’, implying a ‘one size
fits all’ approach to setting things right. It is a ‘no-brainer’ to
state that every one of us is unique and a clear ‘yes-brainer’ to
take account of developmental body–brain–mind patterns that
can guide us in devising templates for individual intervention
and caregiving.
Fitting the Pieces Together 57
The ‘tailor-making’ of a developmental, or therapeutic,

reparenting programme is invaluable (Archer and Gordon 2006)
and is only possible with a clear, shared understanding of ‘why
children do what they do’ and of why being creative in offering
youngsters repeated opportunities to practise doing things
differently is vital. Hence we encourage caregivers to create and
practise ‘fridge-mantras’ such as:
• ‘We need to know what was done to our child to make sense
of what it did to our child.’
• ‘It’s not “won’t do”, it’s “can’t do”.’
And, consequently:
• ‘We need more practice.’
These seemingly simple concepts not only bring more
understanding to parents and other significant adults, they
introduce the empathy and self-confidence that are fundamental
to achieving healthy changes of balance in relationships,
perceptions, thinking and behaviour. Printed and attached to the
fridge door they provide apt reminders for caregivers when they
most need them and are least likely to recall them: when they are
under most stress.
Every ‘knitter’ holding the ‘baby wool’, at whatever stage, needs
to be able to select not only the most appropriate ‘needles’ and
‘stitch sequences’ but also the most effective ‘handling skills’ and
‘tension’. They then hold in their hands the means of engaging
in that two-way, interactive process, or ‘inter-subjectivity’
(Trevarthen 1979, 2001), which is as fundamental to attachment
and development as it is to knitting. From this position they will
be able to establish the best balance between nurture (the loving,
unconditional caregiving) and structure (the loving setting of firm
but fair boundaries), to begin to establish a ‘secure base’ for even
the most troubled children and young people. This approach, in
turn, must be founded on carefully observed behavioural patterns
of children within their current families, and interpreted in the
light of their past family experiences, ideally with the support
of an experienced parent mentor, or ‘knitting coach’. In the

absence of access to this information, the potential for further
developmental damage is intensified and the task of making good
children’s distorted somato-sensori (bodily), social, emotional,
behavioural and thinking patterns made more difficult.
As a physical example, where children are identified at
placement as ‘small for age’ or ‘underweight’ due to neglect, new
caregivers may ‘play catch up’ by substantially increasing their
youngsters’ intake, especially of carbohydrate- and fat-rich foods.
However, recent research shows that rapid ‘catch-up growth’ is
associated with an increased incidence of raised blood pressure,
coronary heart disease and diabetes (Criscuolo et al. 2008). These
findings are consistent with the proposition that serious childhood
adversity increases the likelihood of subsequent development
of heart disease, cancer, stroke, diabetes, skeletal fractures and
liver disease (Felitti and Anda 2009). Moreover, this challenge
to physical health compounds the long-term, traumatic-stress-
related emotional, relational and learning difficulties that many
maltreated children and young people exhibit.
Interestingly, Gluckman and Hanson (2005) propose a
physiological ‘default’ pattern in consumption directly linked
to parental exposure to raised stress hormone levels during
pregnancy. The same pattern is evident, through persistently
raised core regulation, in infants exposed to other environmental
stressors such as from parents with serious mental health
issues. These youngsters, too, become biologically prepared,
or ‘programmed’, to survive adversity. The ‘inherited survival
setting’ needs to be understood by subsequent caregivers so that
they gain increased empathy for their youngsters’ behaviour, be
it craving for unhealthy foods, need for excitement or general
volatility, and can explore ways to introduce, practise and
‘reprogramme’ new, healthier, patterns of behaviour. We might
visualise this in terms of knitters, through the right balance of
nurture and structure, slowly but steadily increasing the diameter
of the needles to achieve optimal size, shape and quality, without
creating undesirable tensions, holes or snags in stitch loops and

inter-connections that will adversely affect final outcomes.
We hope it is now clear that awareness of youngsters’
early history, and its potential impact, is fundamental to the
interpretation and handling of their behaviour and that observation
of children’s overt behaviour can be highly misleading without
this ‘historical lexicon’. We need to recognise that behaviour is
children’s ‘first language’ (Archer and Gordon 2006) and, perhaps,
the only language they know, as a result of their early adverse
experiences. Since many of our children have missed valuable
opportunities, during the appropriate developmental period, to
acquire emotional literacy and language, they continue to rely
on non-verbal behaviours to communicate vital information both
about their past experiences and their current feelings and needs:
their actions certainly speak louder than words. Experienced
therapeutic parent mentors can often help caregivers make
‘informed guesses’ and ‘fill in the knowledge gaps’, in the absence
of sufficient, essential information on children’s early attachment
experiences, and support caregivers to utilise their growing
understanding of developmental trauma to ‘hear’ and understand
what their children and young people are communicating.
We have found that establishing greater awareness, competence
and self-confidence in parents leads to an increasingly shared
‘parent–child language’ which, in turn, evokes greater self-
awareness, self-control, self-confidence and competence in
children and young people (Archer and Gordon 2004). This
two-way communication process replicates the inter-subjectivity
of early infancy within healthy attachment relationships. Since
there are only so many ways in which children act, a good
deal of ‘trauma-programmed behaviour’ will often be ‘heard’
in terms of ‘All children do that!’ Consequently youngsters’
vital communications may be overlooked. Conversely some
behaviours provoke strong negative feelings and labels like
‘attention-seeking’, ‘inattentive’, ‘manipulative’, ‘controlling’ or
‘anti-social’, meaning that children’s developmental special needs
are overlooked. Less overtly pejorative, yet equally unhelpful,
descriptions of traumatised children’s unspoken behaviour might

include: ‘daydreamer’, ‘natural clown’, ‘quiet’, ‘compliant’ or
‘likes to stay close’.
These behavioural patterns, already touched on in Chapter 1,
represent the twin predominant patterns of disorganised attachment
behaviour identified by Lyons-Ruth, Bronfman and Atwood
(1999) from observing school-age children. They should be
understood as ‘trauma-normal’ behaviour, since they are persisting
adaptive responses to early adversity, standing in strong contrast
to the ‘neurotypical’ behaviour of children experiencing healthy,
early attachment relationships. Early disorganised attachment
patterns are predictive of subsequent emotional, social and mental
health difficulties across the lifespan (Spangler and Grossmann
1999). However, by school age, children’s behaviour can appear
highly ‘organised’ and ‘structured’ (e.g. Lyons-Ruth et al. 1999),
since they have evolved adaptive survival strategies that confer an
illusory sense of control in an otherwise unpredictable and hostile
environment. For example, children who act ‘in your face’ usually
get what they need: reactions that help them feel ‘held in mind’
by caregivers, albeit in highly negative ways. These stereotypical
behaviour patterns also demonstrate a reduced range of actions
and interactions that adversely affect children’s potential long-
term wellbeing and resilience.
It is therefore essential that therapeutic parenting interventions
begin as early as possible and are focused on the ‘child behind
the mask’, holding in mind that the meaning behind the actions
of children with developmental attachment difficulties is likely to
differ markedly from the norm. This is evident in the high frequency,
duration and intensity of their behaviours, in whether their actions
are ‘biologically driven’ via experientially acquired expectations,
rather than through conscious choice, and in the way they often
make their closest caregivers feel. It can be a mark of the level
of affinity ‘knitters’ feel for the ‘garments’ taking shape in their
hands that caregivers experience levels of distress which actively
mirror the neurobiological and socio-emotional distress of their
children, via their MNS. Skilled parent mentors can help caregivers
identify these somatic and visceral cues (physical responses and

‘gut feelings’), alongside behavioural clues, to better manage their
own reactions and adopt more effective reparenting strategies for
their children. Caregivers can then avoid perpetuating unhealthy
survival patterns and devise creative ways of repairing vital (and
literally life-promoting) developmental attachment relationships.
For example, youngsters who have tantrums beyond ‘the
terrible twos’ pose challenges often experienced as ‘controlling’:
particularly as they can appear selective about their timing,
audiences and ‘performances’. Such outbursts may occur several
times each day, last for hours and be voluble, violent and distressing.
We know that paying scant attention to mistakes, big or small, in
knitting tends to perpetuate, or exacerbate, faults throughout the
garment. Part of the ‘in-house training’ of good enough ‘knitters’
is to detect such potential problems and intervene to correct minor
difficulties in their infancy, before they become major problems
likely to compromise the overall quality, reliability and durability
of the finished product. Similarly, caregivers need preparation,
specific training and support so they can recognise that the
frustration, fear and lack of self-competence and control they
feel reflect the frustrated, fearful, out-of-control and powerless
feelings of their children and young people. Overlooking the ‘cry
for help’ of full-on tantrums neither resolves children’s distress nor
puts things right. On the contrary, it reinforces the basic set-up
of children’s body–brain–mind systems, compromises developing
parent–child relationships and sets in train increasingly unhealthy
interaction patterns.
Thus, ignoring the negative frequently causes the negatives
to increase, complicating unhealthy patterns and making putting
things right more difficult. Ignored children feel increasingly
unheard, out of touch, ‘out of mind’ and ‘out of control’: in much
the same way that we might become frustrated and raise our
voices when we feel we are not being heard. Conversely, children
who feel listened to and ‘held in mind’, by caregivers able to
accept and verbalise their deep-seated, unspoken fears, learn to
identify and make sense of the chaos of their inner and outer lives.
Here the gradual ‘unpicking’ of their trauma-based responses

under the guidance of their parents gives children and young
people the chance to create, and build on, new and healthier life
patterns. Since the natural parenting style of caregivers may differ
from the structured parenting their youngsters need, effective
preparation, training and support are essential to allow them
to ‘get in synch’ with, and ‘recalibrate’, distressed youngsters’
trauma-normal, base-level responses without being thrown ‘out
of kilter’ themselves (secondary trauma – see p.247).
Again, direct observation of overt behaviour must be balanced
by an awareness of trauma history in selecting the parenting style
most appropriate to children’s functional, or behavioural, age. If,
for example, ‘knitters’ select their ‘pattern’ according to youngsters’
chronological age or size, or their overtly independent behaviour,
it is likely that experiential and learning ‘gaps’, sensory, emotional
and cognitive ‘tangles’ and the acquired, altered or additional
‘stitches’ of survival-based adaptive behaviour will continue to
affect their growth and development adversely. Children of, say,
ten years old who have good enough early experiences can be
expected to take a good deal of responsibility for self-care tasks,
such as bathing, hair-washing, teeth-cleaning, bedroom-tidying
and organising themselves for school. There is often greater, more
disparate and more confusing variation in the abilities displayed
by youngsters placed in adoptive or foster families.
Although maltreated children can demonstrate ‘age and
stage normal’ self-care skills, many will, at least at times, refuse
to do so, or appear unable to complete the task to ‘reasonable’
standards. At these times they may seem ‘oppositional’, ‘lazy’,
‘attention-seeking’ or ‘babyish’. It is vital that we recognise that,
at that moment, it is more likely ‘can’t do’ rather than ‘won’t do’.
Conversely some youngsters appear ‘precociously’ independent
and resist offers of adult help or guidance, replicating inverted
patterns of care that are common in families of origin. Whilst it
is natural to wish to encourage the chronologically ‘neurotypical’
development of autonomy, we should turn perceptions on their
head for children with traumatic histories and compromised
attachments. It would be more ‘trauma normal’ for them to

struggle with self-care skills, since early caregiving was absent,
inconsistent or inadequate: therefore they will benefit from
additional care, support and practice.
Frequently, youngsters’ problems with self-care come from their
lack of self-awareness, including of their own bodies, their poor
or negatively defined self-regard, and from fear of relinquishing
control to others, particularly parent-figures. In situations like
these therapeutic parent mentors encourage caregivers to ‘read’
children’s behaviours in terms of their unfulfilled developmental
needs. Lacking the basic foundations of good care from others,
these youngsters are letting us know at the bottom and middle
storey (somatic and emotional) levels of functioning what their top
storey, thinking brains cannot know: that they need to complete
this ‘shared care’ stage before they can move on to healthy self-
care. When parents reframe these situations as opportunities to be
seized it allows them to give the early nurturing care they would
love to have given and their children to have received. Where
youngsters resist nurture, parents can empathise aloud that they
had to grow up too quickly and take care of themselves and often
younger siblings, pointing out that now, thankfully, they have
parents to play this important role. In these situations we can
offer a second chance for children to practise something vital they
missed out on in their young lives. Although it may take a great
deal of patience, time and creativity to alter these early-acquired
patterns of behaviour, it is well worth the effort!
By reflecting on their youngsters’ needs, and on the state and
stage of the work so far, caregivers can gently and painstakingly
identify and correct early ‘manufacturing faults’, however large, so
that the ‘finished article’ carries as few ‘flaws’ as possible. Parents
can be helped to identify the ‘dropped stitches’ and embrace the
opportunities this gives them to ‘go back’ with their youngsters and
make good: initially setting aside expectations of independence
and encouraging much-needed, healthy dependence. Creative
adopters might manage teeth-cleaning difficulties by encouraging
‘teeth-cleaning races’ (preferably snail’s-pace), provide toothpastes
with sparkly stars or use toothpaste drawings on the bathroom

mirror to engage their children. Adding some much-needed
fun and off-the-wall humour are powerful tools in defusing
potentially distressing or confrontational situations. Additionally,
and vitally, caregivers communicate to their children that they
are ‘there for them’ and ‘on hand’: both providing nurture and
reinforcing object permanence.
Whatever the situation, being confident that this is the best
and healthiest thing to do to move children towards sounder
independence is essential. Simultaneously, introducing an element
of play allows some good experiences to ‘slip past’ children’s
well-practised defences, so that all involved can relish the process
of filling in their ‘experiential gaps’. Since, according to Panksepp
(1998), we cannot feel fear and the joy of play simultaneously, this
is a clear ‘win-win’ situation! Similarly, it is helpful to break down
seemingly simple tasks into a number of smaller steps, asking
children to take responsibility for just one part; a pictorial chart
showing the whole process could serve as both visual prompt
and reminder of the eventual goal. In this way parents set their
children up to succeed, continue the essential nurturing process
and, simultaneously, avoid shame-induced opposition: ‘win-win’
again!
These brief examples are intended as ‘tasters’: to start us
thinking and make us eager to know more. We hope we have
teased out some of the most important strands in the neurobiological
sections, to provide an increased understanding and a firmer basis
for action. Although Part 2 is written so that it can be read as a
‘stand-alone’ work, we hope readers will be tempted to peek into
the ‘science bit’ at some points! We have learned a good deal in
putting this volume together and have enjoyed ourselves along
the way: we encourage others to join us and gain as much from it
as we have. Finally, in addition to the explanatory sections given
within the text (with some concepts, such as object permanence
and object constancy, explored in greater detail in Part 2), a more
inclusive glossary and relevant reference list can be found at the
end of the book.
Part 2
What Can
We Do?
Part 2 Introduction
Introduction
Our focus in Part 2, ‘What Can We Do?’, is on enabling our

traumatised children to begin the healing process. We attempt to
integrate what is currently known of the neurobiological impact
of early attachment-trauma with an awareness of our children’s
histories: to make sense of ‘why they do what they do’, and help
them develop more coherent narratives of their lives.
This in turn helps us understand our children in the ‘here
and now’ and identify the stepping stones on the ‘road to
repair’ and the path towards healthier, happier lives. The task
we will be embarking on can seem one of the most daunting,
yet simultaneously one of the most important, projects that we
will ever undertake. Quite literally we are setting out to change
and develop our children’s brain structures and connections,
their body sensations and their emotional responses, to help
them develop new neurobiological pathways and increase their
resilience and wellbeing. In doing so we may face the challenge
of making radical changes in the way we relate to our children;
this can take a great deal of time and commitment and we are
bound to make mistakes along the way. Indeed making mistakes
is a prerequisite to change, as it sends two important messages
to our children: that we do not have to be perfect and that, if
mistakes occur, they are valuable learning opportunities, not the
end of the world.
A major theme throughout our book is the need to display
empathy for children’s difficulties and, while not necessarily
66
accepting their behaviour, to let them know we understand

their struggles and accept them as special human beings. This
recognises that many of their difficulties stem from their early
traumatic experiences and are their primary way of communicating
predominantly unconscious thoughts and feelings. Sadly, empathy
can sometimes feel impossible when faced with the challenges
our children present. Even the most patient parents ‘lose it’ at
times, reacting with anger or rejection; a crucial element here is to
repair the attachment breaks immediately. A simple hug, followed
by ‘Sorry! I’m having a bad hair day’, can be enough to convey a
message of love and repair the temporary break in attachment
connections.
Such messages are important for children who have learned
that making mistakes can lead to abuse, rejection and feelings of
shame : where mistakes can have seemingly life-threatening
consequences. By helping our children ‘unlearn’ these distorted
beliefs we set in motion the process of neurological and somatic
change. Simultaneously we can learn that the task we are
undertaking is surmountable, that learning occurs in numerous
ways and that we can help our children through making and
owning our own mistakes: ‘setting things right’ and ‘getting
things right’. Remember that the most important learning
pathway for children is via mundane interactions. It is the way we
eat breakfast together, the games we play together, the smiles and
laughter we share, the bedtime stories we read and the interest we
show in their activities which make the crucial difference.
As adopters we wish we had known when our children
were young what we know now. There were times when we
were unhappy with the way things were at home, when we felt
sadness, anger or despair, when we wished we could find ways
to improve family life. We cannot pretend that reading this book
will make such feelings disappear, or transform our children,
overnight: however, we believe it can bring renewed confidence
and hope, lessen stress levels within our families, and create real
possibilities for change. We are also convinced that adopting our
reparenting principles is much less energy-sapping, isolating and
guilt-inducing than struggling to manage children’s trauma-based

behaviour using our old parenting patterns, however ‘tried and
tested’.
A main priority in bringing about changes in our families is to
effect changes in ourselves. While parenthood clearly implies that
we should prioritise our children’s wellbeing, it is also essential
that, at times, we take care of ourselves first. It is a universal flight
requirement that we don our own oxygen masks before helping
others. This injunction is equally relevant to our family journey:
we need energy and enthusiasm to care for our children. We
cannot do this well if exhausted and distressed. This can require
a sizeable mind-set shift and plenty of practice: we therefore
explore this issue in greater depth in Chapter 17, ‘Taking Care
of Ourselves’.
In Part 1 we emphasised that it is never too late to help
traumatised children build healthier lives and that repair is easier
the sooner the repair process begins . Reparenting traumatised
one-year-olds, by going back to very early babyhood, is easier
than beginning a similar ‘bottom up’ developmental process with
needy eight-year-olds struggling, in addition, to cope with school
and peer relationships. They may, chronologically, be expected
to deal with these challenges yet are unlikely to be emotionally
capable of doing so. Not only are the challenges greater but so
too are the social expectations we and our children may face. So
we must learn to trust that the ‘bottom up’ path is the right path
for our families and become creative in providing opportunities
for our children to ‘go back’ to babyhood and toddlerhood, albeit
in ways appropriate to their actual age.
We focus here on the principles of developmental reparenting
(Archer and Gordon 1999b) rather than taking a ‘how to’ approach,
using examples of specific behavioural issues to highlight these
principles. In doing so, we aim to develop a mind-set that can
be adapted to a variety of challenging situations. In this way we
hope to lay down foundations that lead to lifelong changes in
relationships with our children. With these basic principles at our
fingertips we can create an individual strategic approach, rather
than referring back to ‘the manual’, just as experienced ‘knitters’

develop the confidence and ‘know how’ to create their own
patterns as they go.
Developmental reparenting deals with all aspects of children’s
difficulties and all areas of home life: helping us create the optimal
environment for change. Early trauma has a huge neurobiological
impact on our children’s bodies, brains and minds. It is often a
case of ‘can’t do’ rather than ‘won’t do’, and we will need to take
into account the developmental, trauma, attachment and executive
functioning issues that affect our children’s competence. Altering
the emotional atmosphere of our homes is crucial to changing our
children’s view of themselves, of us and of the world we share.
We know that babies and children learn best during periods of
‘quiet alertness’, that were often very limited in their early lives,
and we must strive to create such opportunities now. Turning our
families’ ‘emotional thermostat’ down if it is ‘over-heating’, or up
if there is a ‘chill in the air’, can be a learning curve for us and an
even greater learning curve for our children.
Similarly, altering the physical environment, for example by
reducing levels of stimulation, enables children to respond more
readily to our attempts at co-regulation, since we will lower the
overpowering sensory input that threatens their immature systems
at brainstem and limbic levels. Consequently they will be less
‘out of balance’ and more readily helped to practise ‘resetting’
their neurobiological ‘default’ positions. Since our children’s
monitoring and modulating ‘neurotechnology’ is poorly
calibrated we might visualise them as being akin to fire alarms
that go off at the least puff of smoke, or conversely fail to react to
billowing fumes. Moderating ‘total sensory input’ in our homes
allows children, with our help, to learn to monitor and modulate
sensory information more effectively and consequently develop
healthy self-regulation.
While the principles of our approach are relevant to traumatised
children of all ages, the way we approach the developmental
reparenting task must reflect our children’s current age-and-
stage of development. The key tasks of babyhood are ones of
attachment, feeling securely ‘held’. Babies need nurture and

structure in their lives: unable to make choices for themselves
they need parents who can reflect their feelings and needs and
co-regulate them. As they move into toddlerhood, children reach
the stage of exploring their world and taking risks; they need
practice in making decisions for themselves, albeit limited ones.
They need increasingly overt structure, alongside nurture, to
provide them with the safe environmental ‘scaffolding’ that allows
them to explore the world safely. Thus the balance of nurture
and structure that will be most beneficial to our children, and
reflects their developmental needs, requires careful consideration.
Frequently this will be an ever-changing mix of chronological
age, developmental age and all the years between!
In practice
• Children will only change if parents can change first.
Change is necessary not because we are ‘getting it wrong’
but to allow us to find better ways of ‘getting it right’,
using developmental principles.
• As parents we need to be able to explore our own attachment
histories, to help our children feel more comfortable in
exploring their infancy, childhood and upbringing. We will
inevitably find some attachment issues of our own along
the way, from which we can gain essential insights into
why we respond to our children as we do. These can prove
invaluable in making sense of ourselves and our children
and guiding them to greater understanding of their own
‘inheritance’.
• Before children join our families, they will have developed
disorganised patterns of feeling (physically and emotionally)
and of relating. They will naturally act in ways that fit
their historical ‘mental map’ (IWM) of how parents should
be. We need to be able to ‘download’ healthy patterns of
relating to enable our children to integrate new patterns
of relating. This takes conscious effort, time and practice:

remember we are teaching our children a new ‘language’ at
the same time as trying to learn our children’s ‘language’.
• We should start by recognising the fears underlying
children’s behaviour and help create an environment where
they can feel safe and secure.
• We cannot do this with words, as our children have not yet
gained ‘top down’ understanding and self-control. Instead,
working with youngsters at the physical level helps them
recognise the body feelings and responses underpinning
their emotional feelings and responses. Subsequently we
can support them to reflect on their inner stress levels and
practise ways of monitoring these more effectively.
• Where appropriate, we can explore ways of working
through the ‘bottom and middle storeys’ of children’s
brains, by talking to them about their feelings and thoughts,
creating essential links to their ‘top storey’ thinking brains
and improving their ability to recognise and manage their
feelings for themselves.
• Children learn about feelings predominantly through the
cues, clues and messages given to them by caregivers. To
help them recognise feelings of happiness, sadness, fear
and anger, we must ‘model’ these feelings appropriately. For
our children, as for babies and toddlers with good enough
parents, this will initially be through facial expressions,
gestures, body language and tone of voice via our inter-
communicating MNS . As our children ‘upload’ these
systems, verbal communications will eventually increase.
• A combination of relaxation and stimulation is vital to
maintain a sense of wellbeing. Modulation is not uni-
directional: good enough parents give their babies lots of
opportunities to ‘go up and down’ through a wide range
of physical and emotional states and then return to a
comfortable ‘baseline’. Our children need huge amounts
of practice to acquire this essential capacity. It is vital we

ensure we have the support to do this by creating both time
to be and time to do.
• We must give boundless love and affection before our
children can in turn learn to receive, or give, love and
affection. We may have to endure months or years of lack
of response or rejection before they learn to do this. In the
meantime we need to go on loving and giving, consistently
resisting the survival pattern of hurt and rejection they
acquired in their birth families.
• Physical expressions of love and affection such as cuddles,
eye contact and soothing voice tone are fundamental to
building positive self-esteem and enabling children to feel
loved and accepted. Again this may be a long-term project
requiring all our understanding of, and commitment to, our
children.
• We must model curiosity and learn to play with our
children in developmentally appropriate ways to give them
opportunities to try new things, take ‘safe enough’ risks
and explore the world around them. It is through play
that children, like all young mammals, learn about their
physical sensations, how their bodies work, how to control
them and how to interact with others.
• We now know that this involves learning about what
other people do, how they ‘work’ and hence being able
to predict their responses. Engaging our MN circuits
contributes directly to our capacity to learn and integrate
information at the social, emotional and cognitive levels,
including learning within formal education. Recognising
that our children may not yet have integrated a bodily
sense of themselves, or any sense of themselves in space
and time, let alone in relation to others, we should be
prepared to continue to be playful well beyond the stage
their chronological age might suggest. Not only are we
helping our children, by having fun, we improve our own

resilience and sense of wellbeing.
• Living with traumatised children can create splits within
adult relationships. It is vital to take time to nurture our
adult relationships for our own sake and for our children’s
sake.
• Be human! Acknowledging and expressing our own feelings
of joy, grief, anger, despair and frustration is crucial. If we
deny these natural feelings, we will lose the ability to have
empathy for similar feelings in our children.
Although developmental reparenting is essentially a lifetime shift
in the way we interact with our children, it begins with small steps
that allow our children to ‘feel felt’ and experience the benefits of
managing life in healthier ways. Concurrently it will also help us
internalise the belief that we are good enough parents.
Our journey towards embracing developmental reparenting
principles is likely to be a difficult one: long-established patterns
are not easy to change. We must recognise that no parent is perfect
and that our children have special needs which make parenting
them particularly challenging. Inevitably we will sometimes act
in ineffective or unhelpful ways. The despair and anger we feel
at times may be in part a reflection of our children’s inner world,
in part a reflection of our own inner world. It will mirror the
complex inter-relationship between our attachment histories and
that of our children. Our mistakes will not harm our children if
we recognise them and, following periods of misattunement, we
work to ‘repair’ our relationship with our children as soon as we
are able.
Finally, we should remind ourselves that we are the most
valuable resource our children have in their journey to emotional
health. Valuing ourselves means we will be more able to be ‘there’
for our children and help them to value themselves.
Chapter 3
Key Concepts
The concept of therapeutic, or

developmental, reparenting
Dan Hughes (2000) proposes that therapeutic parents should
parent their children in Playful, Loving, Accepting, Curious
and Empathetic (PLACE) ways. We expanded this acronym
to PARCEL in New Families, Old Scripts (2006) to include the
reciprocal interactions, which are fundamental to ‘good enough’
parenting. Within this ‘dance of attunement and attachment’ we
must be sensitive to our children’s unique needs, seeing them as
individuals and choosing the Playful, Accepting, Reciprocal,
Curious, Empathic and Loving parenting patterns that ‘fit’ them
best and enable them to achieve optimal physical, emotional,
social, behavioural and cognitive growth and development.
Fundamental principles of
developmental reparenting
Below we provide a point-by-point guide to our therapeutic
parenting principles.
Looking backward, looking forward

Caregivers need:
• Full access to children’s histories.
74
Key Concepts 75
• Awareness of ‘what was done’ to children and ‘what it did’.

• An understanding of the underlying developmental neuro-
biology.
• Support to plan for change.
• Opportunities to begin as early as possible to change.
• Faith that change is always possible.
Going back, going forward

Caregivers need:
• An awareness of developmental ‘gaps’: physical, psycho-
logical, behavioural.
• Understanding and time to fill in the developmental ‘gaps’.
• Help identifying child’s socio-emotional and functional
age.
• To treat children at the age they seem at any given moment.
• Support to identify which ‘brain storey’ children are ‘in’:
bottom, middle or top.
• To adopt a ‘bottom up’ approach for ‘top down’ self-
awareness and controls.
• To remember that if in doubt, going lower and slower.
• And that ‘boring is best’.
• To accept that progress may be ‘three steps forwards, two
steps back’.
• To Practise, Practise, Practise.
Nurture and structure

Caregivers:
• Consistent, nurturing care encourages security.
• Providing a safe base allows children to explore themselves

and their world.
• Emotional ‘environmental regulation’ enhances self-
regulation.
• Creating a safe structure, ‘firm and fair’, allows children to
feel safe.
• Clear guidelines help children develop internal rules.
• Nurtured children nurture relationships themselves.
• Parents need time to nurture themselves and be nurtured.
Regulation, regulation, regulation

Caregivers should hold in mind that:
• Co-regulation from caregivers develops children’s self-
regulation.
• Co-regulation can be an arduous and lengthy process.
• Children can become dysregulated by ‘invisible’ triggers.
• Early identification and avoidance of triggers is essential.
• Re-regulation (see p.100) should occur immediately.
• Children met at the same level of emotional intensity (see
p.96) are more readily re-regulated.
• Caregivers can become dysregulated by dysregulated
children.
• Traumatised children can generate secondary trauma in
caregivers.
• Parents need time and space to re-regulate.
Learning to play, playing to learn

• Children learn through play.
Key Concepts 77
• They need caregivers to play with them, helping them

learn to play.
• Play is fun.
• Children and parents feel good when having fun.
• ‘Controlled over-excitement’ provides opportunities for
practising co-regulation.
• Firing ‘play circuits’ reduces ‘fear circuit’ firing.
• More play, less fear increases self-regulation.
• Self-regulation underpins self-control and executive
functioning.
Validation, consolidation, integration

• Behaviour tells us how children feel.
• Insecurity and fear underpin children’s behaviour.
• ‘Hearing’ behaviour increases understanding.
• Shared understanding increases children’s self-awareness.
• Feelings met with equal intensity of (but controlled feeling)
‘feel felt’.
• Validating feelings reduces children’s need to ‘show us’.
• They must help children practise finding their ‘comfort
zone’.
• Reducing ‘out of control’ feelings increase opportunities
for ‘practising’.
• ‘Practising’ rewires neural circuits.
• Rewiring enables integration: bottom, middle, top (upwards
and downwards).
Talking, telling, timing

Essential points to remember:
• Use statements not questions.
• Short, empathic responses ‘go in’.
• Provide acceptance not reassurance.
• Say ‘we need to’ rather than ‘you need to’.
• Timing is everything.
• Calm moments allow optimal sharing.
• Slower is faster.
• Traumatised children were ‘there’ yet lack the words to
‘remember’.
• Gentle exploration develops understanding.
• ‘Speaking the unspeakable’ reduces the power of past
trauma.
For better, for worse

• Every child has a silver lining.
• Accept children not the behaviour.
• Set children up to succeed not fail.
• Stay aware that separate states mean separate ‘being’,
separate ‘truths’.
• Model seeing and being all of ourselves.
• Use mistakes as vital learning opportunities.
• Moderate praise, moderate arousal: too much overwhelms.
• Good enough is good enough.
• Accept that change can take a lifetime.
Key Concepts 79
The needs of traumatised children

Traumatised children need:
• Parents able to contain their own and their children’s fear
and anger in safe and nurturing ways.
• Acceptance and recognition that they are doing the best
they can, understanding of their formative early histories
and empathy for their struggles.
• Parental support to explore and practise making changes in
their perceptions, belief systems and responses.
• Caregivers committed to ‘the long haul’, who can make
sense of their struggles and show empathy rather than
blaming and shaming.
• Parents who say ‘together we can’ rather than ‘you should’.
• Parenting at their developmental age rather than their
chronological age: recognising that ‘functional age’ can
range from day to day and sometimes minute to minute.
• Gentle help to reflect on their confusing inner world, the
way they feel about themselves, and the world around
them, at any given moment.
These principles form both the central tenets of our book and
the rationale for our approach. They recognise that children who
have been hurt and traumatised by early abuse, neglect, rejection,
separation and loss have socio-emotional ‘gaps’ that compromise
their social functioning, affect their relationships and prevent
them from developing into healthy, secure adults. Alongside these
emotional ‘gaps’ go physical ‘gaps’, affecting bodily regulation,
sensation and co-ordination, and cognitive ‘gaps’, like the poor
reasoning and organisation that underpin executive function(ing).
Children and young people with these ‘gaps’ struggle to be ‘happy
kids’, ‘healthy kids’ and ‘smart kids’, which makes growing into
happy, healthy, smart adults very difficult indeed.
Exemplifying this is the story of the ‘three little piggies’ where
each piggy chose different foundations on which to build homes
and subsequently experienced the ‘big bad wolf ’ trying to blow

their houses down. Each house looked solid, yet it was only the
house built on stone that could provide a safe haven for its owner.
Traumatised children can be likened to the little piggies whose
houses were built on sand, which fall down at the first blow,
or of sticks, that quickly blow apart. Therapeutic parents are the
builders who carefully move the house from its sandy base and
rebuild it brick upon brick, on foundations set on stone.
Thus we can see that a fundamental principle of developmental
reparenting is that children need to ‘go back to go forward’. It
recognises that children who have lived through traumatic events
in their earliest years have not laid down firm foundations from
which to develop a sound awareness of their bodies, of where
they ‘fit’ in the world, a sense of trust and self-worth, the ability
to understand and relate to others in meaningful ways or the
reasoning capacities needed to organise and manage their lives.
A key aim of developmental reparenting is therefore to help
our children repair their sensory, motor, social, emotional and
intellectual ‘gaps’. It implies treating our children at an age
younger than their chronological age when their behaviour
indicates this is needed: for example, by acting ‘babyish’ or not
managing tasks they can usually accomplish, or that might be
expected of similar-aged children.
Achieving the mind-set of ‘congratulating’ ourselves and our
children for being dependent, rather than independent, runs
counter to what is naturally perceived as ‘progress’. However, this
is one of the counter-intuitive concepts we need to embrace as
therapeutic parents: instead of encouraging children to ‘grow up’
and ‘act their (chronological) age’, it is important to recognise
their emotional (developmental) age and respond accordingly. In
doing so we offer them vital opportunities to ‘fill in the gaps’,
‘get what they need’ and practise ‘getting it right’. Encouraging
children’s dependence also validates that they are taking huge
risks to embrace emotional closeness: an extremely scary prospect
for children who have suffered abusive, neglectful or inconsistent
parenting.
Key Concepts 81
Instead of teaching our youngsters to tie their own shoe laces,

we can encourage them to let us do this task for them. In doing
so we may experience approbation from parents who vie with
each other in boasting about their children’s precocious exploits,
such as: ‘My wee Janey now gets into the car and fastens her own
seat belt.’ In contrast we can practise saying to ourselves, ‘Fantastic
news! My wee Janey let me carry her to the car today, instead of insisting
on walking on her own. Isn’t that amazing? I’m so pleased and proud of
her.’ If we are confident enough to voice this aloud we might just
set a counter-intuitive trend and slow down the ‘rat race’!
It is also important to remember that change in our youngsters
will not follow a steady progression. It can be highly frustrating
to parent children who can dress themselves one day, only to
be unable to do so the next. It is all too easy to feel they are
being deliberately defiant or manipulative. Instead, we should
recognise that our children may well be more capable one day
than another, either because ‘something on the inside’ is affecting
their body systems, and hence their ability to respond, or because
circumstances in the external world are getting in the way. These
two factors are inter-related and are crucial to our understanding
and parenting approach. Often our children do not cope well in
environments with high levels of stimulation, especially if they are
tired, hungry, uncomfortable or hurting. It may help to reflect on
how we, too, manage better when we are not stressed: as common
phrases like ‘I can’t think straight’ or ‘I’ve lost it’ indicate.
At such times youngsters’ ability to ‘compensate’ for their
poorly organised body–mind–brain systems can collapse and
they ‘regress’ to earlier ways of functioning. Their fear-based
early experiences mean they have highly aroused, ‘bottom
storey’ brainstems within which the ‘filtering’ and ‘regulating’
mechanisms are (temporarily) compromised. It could also be
that the current level of stimulation overwhelms their mid-storey
limbic system, meaning their ability to access their top-storey
‘thinking brain’ to make sense of the environment and over-ride
their ‘knee-jerk’ reactions is ‘out of action’ . Often it can be a
combination of all of these factors. As therapeutic parents it is

essential that we consider the sensory environment in our homes
and ‘turn it down’ to levels that fit with our children’s ability to
manage at their most vulnerable times.
Traumatised children often feel responsible for the abuse and
neglect they suffered. In many ways this is the ‘safest’ belief
system for children living in unsafe environments as it provides
a sense of control and supports the belief that their maltreating
parents might treat them more favourably if they can find ways of
changing themselves. Conversely, accepting the reality that abuse
and neglect are always the responsibility of adults caring for them
means children must accept they have no-one to protect them,
are powerless and that things will never change. Recognising
the dissonance between the internal feelings of responsibility for
their maltreatment and the reality of parental responsibility, and
feeling simultaneously in control and powerless, would mean the
world makes no sense. To avoid the inner chaos, children ‘choose’
the lesser of two evils: blaming themselves, rather than blaming
their birth families.
Recognising that these may well be the feelings children
wake up with and carry with them minute by minute allows us to
understand why it sometimes seems impossible for them to dress
or organise themselves. Rather than experiencing frustration when
children cannot do these things themselves on days when their
inner world is overwhelming them, we can express delight that
they have found ways to manage well on other days. Recognising
that their level of ability is a barometer of their internal world
will help us feel calmer and more able to provide additional help
when needed.
Developmental reparenting means much more than
encouraging our children to ‘regress’ and is often a complex and
protracted process both for us and for them. Traumatised children
are scared and hurt children. They may hide these feelings from
us, and even from themselves, or act them out in behaviours that
are hard to understand and manage: including aggression and
rejection towards us and their siblings. Conversely they may be
Key Concepts 83
compliant and ‘good’, fearing that any misdemeanour will incur

further abuse, neglect or abandonment. However they signal their
needs and inner distress, traumatised children need us to recognise
the underlying reasons for it and empathise with their struggles.
They need clear messages that we understand and validate that
they feel unsafe and threatened, alongside messages that we can
provide the safety and security they need to allow them to feel
confident enough to try new ways of interacting. To do this we
need to start at the bottom.
We have seen that traumatised children have poor capacity to
regulate their own somatic (bodily) feeling states and emotional
responses; they can be quickly aroused if exposed to over-
stimulation of their sensori-motor systems. We therefore need
to consider both the external and internal physical environment
in our homes and find ways to reduce sensory stimulation (at
brainstem and limbic levels). Fewer toys and fewer choices are
important ways of creating a less stimulating and thus safer external
environment (brainstem). Close proximity to, and attention from,
calm, capable adults are crucial to reducing emotional stress and
helping traumatised children remain, or become, calm (mid-storey
limbic areas). In addition, we must help our children distinguish
between ‘then’ and ‘now’, offering accepting messages that we
know it will take time for them to recognise this (encouraging
cortical connections). Together these strategies help integrate
children’s sensori-motor, socio-emotional and cognitive systems,
reflecting bottom-up neurobiological sequences.
Opportunities for change are a vital aspect of developmental
reparenting. While it is important to recognise why, for example,
angry children may hit their sibling, we also need to help them
practise managing their feelings more appropriately. It helps
nobody, not least the aggressive child, to have their hurtful
behaviour go unchallenged. Not stepping in and validating
the victimised children’s feelings makes them feel ‘unheard’
and potentially increases tension between siblings. Moreover, it
allows angry children to feel frighteningly powerful and out of
control, which increases the underlying fear they are ‘showing
us’ through their behaviour. Nobody benefits from this situation,

parents included.
To help our children become secure adults able to develop
healthy, positive relationships and increasingly happy, comfortable
lives (resilience and wellbeing), we must show them safer ways
of interacting. Accepting the powerful feelings that underpin
their actions and empathising volubly avoids plunging them into
shame, supports them to let go of old survival patterns, and enables
change. In doing so we need to recognise our own ‘knee-jerk’
responses, practise monitoring and managing our arousal levels
and make enough time to look after ourselves: a simple enough
task for super-parents! The same fundamental principles apply
to children who seem ‘too good’, ‘shut-down’, ‘manipulative’,
‘oppositional’ or ‘attention-seeking’.
Fundamentally, developmental reparenting is about safety,
security and predictability. Our children may rarely have felt safe
or secure before coming home to us, having survived chaotic,
terrifying family circumstances. They will almost certainly have
a different concept of what safety and security means from
ours. We may strengthen our sense of security by sharing our
worries with trusted others; our children may only feel safe when
coping by themselves. This epitomises the difference between
secure and compromised attachments and forms a cornerstone of
developmental reparenting. We cannot offer the safety, security and
predictability essential to the development of secure attachments
unless we understand the distorted perceptions that make safe,
consistent, ‘in charge’ parents seem so terrifying to our children.
These survival-based misperceptions can continue to drive them
to recreate the ‘safety of the familiar’: the very chaos and mistrust
that created their developmental attachment difficulties initially!
Thinking Alice Through the Looking Glass, Kafka and Catch-22
rolled into one can be very helpful to us as therapeutic parents.
Therefore ‘safety, security, predictability and trust’ mean much
more than ensuring that our home is child-friendly and that we
meet our children’s physical needs well. We need to remember
that our children’s MN patterning can lead to difficulties
Key Concepts 85
understanding the intentions behind our actions. For example,

when we say ‘no’ to an inappropriate request, we may be coming
from a benign perspective, recognising that this is an unsafe
option for them. Unless we are aware of our children’s ‘mirror
distortions’ and find ways of creating a common language to
communicate our intentions clearly, in advance of our actions,
we are likely to perpetuate their misperceptions and may be
perceived as critical, sarcastic or abusive. As therapeutic parents
we must work towards helping children feel both physically and
emotionally safe enough to let go of their ‘survival-based’ beliefs
and responses.
What Do Children Need?

• to feel safe
• to feel understood
• to feel they matter and belong
• to learn to self-regulate and to be themselves
• to feel calm and relaxed in their bodies and minds
• in essence, to feel.
What Do We Mean By Safe?

• safe in their bodies
• safe in their families
• safely contained/co-regulated
• safe to love and be loved
• safe to explore their world
• safe in the knowledge that there will always be someone
there for them.
Developmental reparenting means recognising our children’s

unique qualities and communicating these so that they ‘hear’ our
positive messages. Since children learn from success not failure
they need endless practice at ‘getting things right’ and hearing
praise they can accept. Given their fragile sense of self-worth,
we are often working with ‘mirror-images’ here. When we make
global comments like ‘good girl’ this contradicts internalised
beliefs such as ‘I am bad’ and can cause acting out (‘this is what
I’m really like’) or feelings like ‘if they knew what I’m really like
they wouldn’t love me’. More focused, lower-key statements, for
example ‘Wow! You found your shoes. Nice one!’, may slip under the
radar. Moreover, if we can set children up to avoid ‘failure’ by
making simple, non-challenging requests and fun opportunities
to ‘get it right’, even asking them to do what they want to do
anyway, we create ‘win-win’ situations. Then, feeling somewhat
better about themselves, children can begin to let their guard
down and take in essential, positive messages that they are ‘good
enough’, deserve praise and can take us at our word.
As developmental, or therapeutic, parents we should start by
understanding our children’s histories and how they continue
to impact on them in the present: in turn this will inform our
understanding of the developmental trauma issues that underlie
their current behaviour. We also need to recognise that parenting
traumatised children is likely to be stressful and can ‘push the
buttons’ of the most stable and secure parents to the point where
we feel a sense of failure as parents, as couples or as individuals.
Hence a vital part of developmental reparenting is to look at our
own attachment histories alongside those of our children. This
should be an ongoing process rather than a one-off event, in
the same way that understanding the processes that underlie our
children’s behaviour needs to become integral to our moment-
by-moment relationships with them.
Being therapeutic parents means looking at our children’s
needs and finding ways to meet them; it also means creating
opportunities to take care of ourselves. In doing so, we demonstrate
the sense of self-worth we want to create in our children and
Key Concepts 87
provide role models our children might emulate. This challenges

a commonly held view that thinking of ourselves is selfish: we
prefer to reframe it as ‘looking after ourselves so that we can
better look after our children’.
Using the term ‘practising’ gives the message to us and our
children that learning a new skill takes time and that we all
make mistakes when attempting unfamiliar tasks. Practising our
developmental reparenting skills is a learning curve where mistakes
can lead to new ways of seeing ourselves and our children and
new insights into how best to help them. Indeed making mistakes
is an essential part of being therapeutic parents. Being able to
apologise to our children when we have become angry is a potent
way of not only demonstrating how to manage angry feelings
appropriately but also of communicating that we do not have
to be perfect to be ‘good enough’, a message that is especially
important for children whose experiences leave them feeling they
are a mistake and that making mistakes only confirms this. In fact
mistakes also provide wonderful opportunities for ‘repair’. Dan
Hughes (2000, 2006) and Alan Schore (2001b) emphasise that
intrinsic to creating healthy attachments is reconnection to our
children immediately after experiences of misattunement.
Children who suffered early abuse and neglect are consumed
by feelings of shame that overwhelm their ability to recognise
and practise pro-social behaviours, since they see themselves
as intrinsically ‘bad’ and worthless. They struggle to accept
responsibility for their mistakes, while at the same time being
highly sensitive to criticism. This juxtaposition is very difficult
for parents. We need to find ways to help our children assume
responsibility for their behaviours as a springboard to making
changes, while simultaneously ensuring we do not damage their
fragile sense of self-worth. We must help our children recognise
their essential goodness and that, when we address difficulties
with them, we are discussing a particular behaviour rather than
their worth as human beings. Otherwise they will continue to
‘disown’ parts of themselves, be they the ‘unacceptable’ or
‘acceptable’ ones, and will be unable to make positive changes.
Developmental reparenting takes into consideration the

impact their early experiences have on all aspects of children’s
functioning: their neurobiological systems, the ensuing
developmental trauma issues, their attachment patterns, sensori-
motor needs, special dietary requirements, paediatric difficulties,
EF and any specific psycho-social and therapeutic considerations
that may be identified. It is most effective when it does not
function in isolation: for maximum effect it should be reflected
in school, social situations and any therapeutic and adoption
support work provided for our families. Integrated working that
places caregivers at the centre of the healing process creates the
optimal environment for positive change within our families.
In Chapter 17, ‘Taking Care of Ourselves’, we explore the
stresses and strains of therapeutic parenting, including secondary
trauma. We consider the impact of our own formative childhood
experiences on our expectations, beliefs, self-image and parenting
styles. Even the best of us cannot face the challenges our hurt
children bring to our families alone; we need all the support and
guidance we can get from our families, friends, communities and
informed professionals. Knowing ourselves and our children will
allow us to identify what we need and feel confident in making
informed choices when asking for help. We are our children’s
best advocate; we are best placed to identify their needs and, with
good supports, to meet them effectively. We may need to remind
ourselves of this daily!
What Do Parents need?

Information:
• to know what was done to their child
• to understand what this did to their child
• to make sense of their child’s behaviour
• Understanding of the neurobiological underpinnings of their
children’s behaviour.
Key Concepts 89
Access:
• to specialist advice, support and counselling
• to a network of integrated services – for as long as they are
needed.
Parenting Patterns
• Parents tend to make sense of their children’s behaviour in
terms of their own experiences of being parented.
• Parent–child misattunements will occur, however secure
parents’ attachment patterns are.
• Parents need understanding and support to identify and
explore inevitable vulnerabilities and ‘triggers’.
• Supportive ‘adult attachment figures’ can empower parents
to become sensitive, secure attachment figures for troubled,
traumatised children.
• Parent mentors are well placed to fulfil this role: providing
therapeutic supervision for therapeutic parents.
Summary
Developmental reparenting aims to provide:
• a developmentally based loving guide to parenting children
and helping them change and heal
• greater understanding of, and empathy for, children’s
difficulties
• reduction in misperceptions, mismatches, conflict and stress
• nurture and structure that allows children to learn to feel

loved, secure and ‘held’
• opportunities for children to learn to trust that we are ‘there
for them’ and can meet their needs
• the family infrastructure that allows children to change and
manage their lives in healthier ways
• support for us to look at ourselves and any difficulties we
may bring to our therapeutic parenting
• the confidence to be effective therapeutic parents and to
commit ourselves to the long haul.
Chapter 4
Information
The Need to Know –
Understanding Our
Children’s Past to
Understand their Present
As we know, therapeutic (developmental) reparenting draws

on the fundamental principle that children’s early experiences
influence how they perceive, understand and relate to the
world around them. Early trauma, particularly within families,
significantly impacts children’s bodies, brains and minds, affecting
their perceptions and beliefs about parent-figures. Babies with
loving, nurturing parents develop neurobiological ‘hardwiring’
that promotes feelings of safety and self-worth and MN
systems that allow them to ‘read’ parents’ intentions in light of
their positive experiences. Conversely babies whose early care
is abusive, neglectful or abandoning are ‘hardwired’ with belief
systems that adults are untrustworthy, that the world is unsafe and
that they do not deserve to be loved or kept safe. Therefore they
are likely to respond with circumspection to attempts by new
families to offer them security and stability.
If children ‘read’ our loving actions as potentially abusive,
their responses will be fear-based: expecting danger at every
turn. In this environment children cannot relax, meaning their
91
poorly developed capacity to self-soothe and regulate their

emotions is further compromised. Since they cannot afford
to filter out incoming data for fear of missing signs of danger,
they frequently experience sensory overload in the mid-storey,
limbic, areas and their perceptions become increasingly linked
to negative emotional memories . Processing of fear-based
stimuli will continue to take priority. Consequently, children’s
only recourse may be to shut down their sensory and emotional
systems using the dissociative responses of fight, flight or freeze.
Their behaviour may be typified by anger and aggression, running
away, physical or emotional withdrawal, ‘going into their own
world’ or emotionally ‘shutting down’.
To get an idea of what this feels like, imagine spending time
with a friend in a noisy, crowded place. How difficult would it be
to hear and make sense of what was being said or to feel heard?
How much more difficult would it be if we lacked the capacity
to concentrate on that friendly voice (filtering out unnecessary
aural stimuli), instead hearing every voice at the same intensity,
whilst simultaneously being bombarded by all the other sights,
smells and movement around us? Imagine further that people
were talking about us: some offering praise and positive messages,
some seemingly intent on hurting us. How could we work out
which of these messages to attend to in order to help us feel safe?
How would we know how to respond appropriately? This is the
confusing world our children inhabit and which they need help
to make sense of and cope with.
We must start by understanding the fundamental issues affecting
our children and recognise the situations that create particular
difficulties for them. To do so we need as much information as
possible about their histories, since their early experiences form the
developmental building blocks of their bodies, brains and minds:
establishing the ‘wiring’ that links their senses, perceptions and
responses. Becoming aware of our children’s early experiences
allows us to recognise and understand situations in the present
that may trigger trauma-responses that evolved to ensure their
survival in the past. We can then work to avoid these triggers,
The Need to Know – Understanding Our Children’s Past to Understand their Present 93
limit trauma-responses and help our children accept they are no

longer in constant danger.
To do this we need to obtain as much information as possible
about the following:
• Children’s early life experiences, particularly the traumas
they suffered in the most formative three years of life,
including pre-birth.
• The reasons for our children being looked after and how
this was undertaken.
• The number and duration of all placements and moves,
bearing in mind that children may have experienced many
more separations than are documented: for example, being
passed ‘from pillar to post’ within the chaotic world of
drug-abusing birth parents.
• The reasons for each move, informally within birth families
or formally within the looked after system.
• Full descriptions of children’s behaviour in previous
placements and nursery or school settings.
• The nature and extent of contact our children had with
birth family members whilst being looked after. The timing
and content of their ‘goodbye contact’ may be an especially
important piece of information. This may have given our
children messages that we are merely a ‘holding placement’
until they return to their ‘real’ family, preventing them from
attaching to us or feeling safe enough to relinquish their
early survival behaviours.
Access to all this information is vital if we are to make sense of our
children’s view of the world and their continuing responses to it,
communicate effectively with them and provide an environment
they can experience as safe and nurturing. For example, children
left alone for long periods may feel as if they are being neglected
again if we leave them for even a short time, responding with
fear, anger or withdrawal. Being aware of their early experiences,
we can more readily validate their feelings and help them learn
they are now safe. Similarly, it is important to have a shared
understanding of how our children communicate their distress.
Gaining accurate information about their behaviour in previous
placements allows us to recognise how our children communicate
their fears. Ensuring our children ‘know that we know’ how they
communicate their distress helps create a shared ‘language of
trauma’ as a step towards developing a shared ‘language of love’.
If we recognise our children’s behaviour as a vital form of
non-verbal communication, we can avoid blaming them for
their actions and find a more positive approach that embraces
the underlying issues. For example, empathy and shared
understanding of why our children take things that do not
belong to them, alongside shared practice at ‘doing it differently’,
gradually helps our children communicate more appropriately
and effectively. Making children aware that we understand why
they ‘steal’ helps them ‘feel felt’ and more able to accept support
from us to reduce the ongoing negative effects of their behaviour
on their self-perceptions and their perceptions of others. We, and
our children, will feel less anger, rejection and shame ; we can
more readily find the ‘silver lining’ in our children and help them
find this in themselves too.
Our children’s histories provide the essential ‘dictionary’
(Archer and Gordon 2006) from which their puzzling behaviours
can be ‘decoded’ and the foundation on which we can build good
relationships. Children who ‘know that their parents know’ as
much as possible about their background and ways of expressing
their feelings through behaviour begin from a firmer baseline
than children who are unsure their parents are able to accept
them ‘warts and all’. Fearing that we would not love them if we
knew the bad things that happened to them, children are likely
to ‘test’ our commitment to them, unconsciously provoking us to
abandon them ‘sooner rather than later’.
Finding opportunities to share the ‘behavioural meanings’ in
our ‘dictionary’ creates an atmosphere of increased honesty and
openness: instead of anger, rejection, withdrawal or ‘compulsive
compliance’ (our children’s first language) we can develop a

language of mutual love and trust. Together we can compile a
family ‘dictionary’ based on honesty, openness, security, loving care
and understanding. Gradually, as our children begin to internalise
this new language, the neurobiological patterns they developed
through living with trauma will be altered to patterns founded
on love, trust and self-worth, providing the firmest basis possible
for changing their unacceptable behaviours. Children who have
learned to trust we love them and will keep them safe learn to love
and take good care of themselves. They develop the behavioural
language that reflects this, establish MN systems that accurately
reflect our intentions, and acquire a sound sense of OP ,
OSP, OC and OSC.
Our dictionary allows us to reflect on what their early
traumatic experiences did to our children in terms of bottom-
up development. As we shall explore in more detail in the next
chapter, ‘Laying the Foundations’, sounds and smells can be
potent sensory triggers. These may seem harmless until we locate
them in children’s histories and understand their meaning in
terms of ‘survival’ responses. Whilst it may be easy to recognise
that the smell of alcohol could trigger overwhelming sensory
experiences reflecting abuse and neglect and producing feelings
of dysregulation and panic, it can be harder to realise that a
particular perfume, or a raised voice, could trigger equally extreme
reactions.
Movement and body position can also be potent triggers,
creating sensory overload and fundamental dysregulation. This
may make sense to us where children were physically abused and
startle at sudden unexpected movements; it may be less clear when
children respond negatively to cuddles, lying down, car rides or
wobbly chairs. Recalling the principle that all children’s behaviour
has meaning and that we can locate this in the dictionary of their
past will help us make sense of children’s seemingly random
reactions.
Children who have been sexually abused, neglected or
abandoned may have triggers associated with bath or bed times
that make these events especially fraught in our families. While

our children need to learn that touch and cuddles from safe adults
are vital to their recovery process, we often need to proceed at a
slow pace, yet remain confident that we are on the right track.
Children who struggle to accept physical affection may respond
positively to a Post-it note on their pillow: a simple ‘missed you,
hope you had a good day’ can be enough. A smiley face inside a
heart offers a loving message to children who cannot read; for
older children text messages can tell them we are thinking about
them when they are out of earshot and remind them of our love.
They also act as transitional objects (TOs) that encourage OP and
gradually allow our children to recognise our positive feelings
and intentions. Eventually new sensori-motor and MN circuits
will develop, allowing them to perceive and accept touch, cuddles
and hugs as signs of affection rather than precursors to further
abuse.
At the limbic level, the feelings generated by sensory overload
are linked to overwhelming emotional responses. Children who
have been maltreated, whose brainstems communicate messages
of danger ‘upwards’, continue to react with trauma-responses
learned early in life. How they do so depends on the particular
patterns they evolved to gain some sense of ‘control’ over their
chaotic environment. We readily recognise crying as signalling
distress, conveying children’s underlying fears. It is often not
equally clear that fear underpins the behaviour of aggressive
children or youngsters who are compliant or silent. Yet fear lies at
the root of all these reactions. Using our behavioural dictionary
allows us to make essential links between past and present and
manage our children’s sensori-emotional environment better for
them and with them.
When children are becoming dysregulated, remaining calm
and in control allows us to calm out-of-control children. Lowering
our voice may be ineffective where ‘matching affect’, by speaking
louder and with emotion yet maintaining self-control, can help
us reconnect to our children. We are then well placed to ‘bring
them down’ to more comfortable arousal levels. Getting ‘in synch’
this way allows co-regulation to kick in and we can help our

children practise finding their comfort zone. The trick is not to
match distress with distress, but to match intensity of feeling,
whilst making it clear that we can contain those feelings safely,
for example, saying excitedly to a child having a ‘wobbly’: ‘Wow!
I can really hear how angry you’re feeling. Let’s jump up and down!’
Understanding our children’s histories not only helps us know
which situations are likely to be distressing, it also helps us know
how best to help them manage their overpowering feelings. For
example, children who struggle with changes in routine may have
histories of neglect where parents’ turbulent lifestyles created
enduring fears of hurt or abandonment. Minimising changes
in routine and staying aware of the difficulties our children
experience when things change helps reduce these adverse effects.
We might say ‘I know this is difficult for you but we can’t go to the
cinema as promised. I’ve just heard Granny is coming round. Let’s see
what we can do to make this easier for you. Get your diary out!’ Such
statements validate children’s struggles, show that we understand
and that we can work together to help them cope.
Historical issues can also impact the way children handle
separations from us, for example when they go to school or bed
or we go out without them. Children who respond with anger,
rejection, manipulation or ‘shut-down’ are communicating
feelings of intense fear and rejection. Bearing this in mind helps
us manage our feelings of frustration or rejection and informs
how we can work to help our children cope better. Preparing a
snack before we leave, containing a hidden ‘love you’ note, for
them to be given later, conveys vital messages that we care for
them, are ‘holding them in mind’ and are still there for them.
Acknowledging how hard they find separations and wondering
aloud how they will let us know how they feel communicates
that we can make sense of, and handle, whatever behaviour they
throw our way: potentially reducing the need to ‘act out’ or
‘act in’.
Simultaneously, we should be aware of our own histories,
reflecting on the ways in which our ‘story’ mirrors, or differs
from, our children’s, and exploring how our communications

with them have been influenced by our experiences. We discuss
this in greater depth in later chapters.
Summary
It is vital that we obtain as much information about children’s early
histories as possible. We need to know what happened to them
and what it did to them in order to create the basic dictionary
through which their behavioural language can be understood.
Learning our children’s language provides the tools to reduce the
sensory and emotional overload triggered by current events that
‘speaks’ to our children about their traumatic past. We can then
create a less stressful physical and socio-emotional environment
within which we can help them ‘rewire’ body–brain–mind
connections and introduce them to the unspoken and spoken
languages of safety, trust and love that form the cornerstones
of effective developmental reparenting. We also need to explore
the ways we ourselves learned to communicate our feelings and
consider whether we should adjust our communication patterns
to better meet the needs of our children.
Chapter 5
Laying the
Foundations
Co-regulation for
Self-regulation
Alongside our extended knitting metaphor, in Chapter 1 we

introduced the concept of the three-storey, semi-detached house to
represent the structure of the brain and explore its developmental
sequences.
The bottom storey (basement) represents the brainstem,
which begins to function in the womb and is responsible for
basic life-sustaining processes such as heart and breathing rates,
determining levels of wakefulness and sleep, and initiating ‘fight,
flight or freeze’ responses. The middle storey (main living area)
comprises the limbic areas responsible for appraising meaning and
organising sensations and emotions, attachment, OP and memory
creation. The top storey (studio) represents the maturing ‘thinking’
brain that allows reason, negotiation and social and moral values
to influence the more reflex emotional and behavioural responses
of the two lower storeys.
However, unlike a typical ‘semi’, the brain establishes important
inter-connections between its two halves, alongside the complex
web of connections across, and between, the three storeys. We might
99
visualise this in terms of shared ‘public amenities’: a co-operative

system where wiring (electricity and telecommunications) and
pipelines (water and gas) are utilised communally. In addition,
key brain structures, such as the amygdala, hippocampus, orbito-
prefrontal cortex (OFC) and Broca’s area (primarily responsible
for expressive language), develop at significantly different rates
within the two halves, allowing increased specialisation of
function. In our shared house this facilitates enhanced efficiency:
where, for example, having one larger ‘rumpus room’ accessible to
all residents and a smaller one for quieter activities, or a bathroom
with a sauna in one half and a walk-in shower in the other, allows
for greater adaptability and flexibility.
Many of us are familiar with the parable of the two houses
built upon sand or rock. Whilst the first lacked the solid
foundations it needed to withstand the elements, the house built
on solid rock remained firmly intact. In our building metaphor
these firm foundations, necessary not only for well-functioning
brains but also sound bodies and minds, represent the co-
regulation (re-regulation) provided by ‘good enough’ parents and
the self-regulation that is created from these dynamic, regulatory
relationships during children’s first thousand days of life including
the pre-birth period. These neurobiological regulatory processes
begin in the bottom-storey brainstem, move upwards through the
limbic areas and finally achieve maturity in the top-storey neo-
cortex.
We only need to observe wriggling, screaming babies to
recognise that they are not born with the capacity to regulate their
sensory and emotional feelings. They lack the capacity to move
independently or control their environment: instead depending
on their caregivers for life-giving food, shelter and protection. To
acquire basic self-care and self-regulation human infants require
access to reliable, shared monitoring and modulation of responses
and feelings, through consistent co-regulation (re-regulation) to
help them practise finding their ‘comfort zones’. This vital process
can only be provided by parents or other significant caregivers,
Laying the Foundations 101
takes place over an extended period during youngsters’ earliest

years of life.
Babies can only experience co-regulation within sensitive,
dynamic, two-way relationships where parental facial expressions,
touch, ‘baby talk’ and exaggerated body language reflect their
own movements, sensations and feelings, helping them recognise
them as their own, name them, make sense of them and manage
them. Through these parent–child dialogues infants acquire
increasing self-awareness and control over their bodies and
minds: self-regulation. Thus it is parental attachment figures that
provide the nurture, organised structure and secure environment
that allows young children to build the structurally sound and
functional body–brain systems that are best suited to the world
around them. Without this, children lack the neurobiological
‘hardware’ and complex ‘wiring’ that enables them to organise
and regulate themselves well.
As therapeutic parents we must begin our developmental
reparenting with an in-depth structural inspection of our
children’s foundation systems (histories), to see how they measure
up to ‘building regulations’ and ‘environmental controls’. It can
be helpful to seek the guidance of professional ‘surveyors’, such
as parent mentors or developmentally informed therapists and
social workers, with the specialist knowledge and experience to
identify potential structural weaknesses at key foundation levels:
for example, due to early adversity, such as neglect or abuse, that
can lead to poor internal regulation of external sensations (like
sounds and smells) and internal sensations (such as from muscles
and the gut). These difficulties are often apparent in children’s
volatile emotional and behavioural responses, or their lack of
awareness of sensations such as pain or hunger. Underpinning
these difficulties there are likely to be functional ‘faults’, at the
brainstem level, in children’s capacity to monitor, modulate and
calibrate their heart and respiration rates, sleep and wakefulness,
and nascent sensory processing systems: all of which play a major
role in promoting ‘survival’, resilience and wellbeing.
We can then apply our knowledge of ‘building regulations’ to

put in place the solid foundations and ‘environmental controls’
that allow children to build more solid body and brain structures
and ‘rewire’ their poorly integrated systems from ‘bottom up’.
These are the essential prerequisites for the development of
secure attachments, OP and OC, healthy MN circuits, healthy
relationships, resilience and wellbeing: providing the foundations
and scaffolding of structure and nurture upon which therapeutic
reparenting principles are built. We can think of ‘building
regulations’ primarily in terms of structure and ‘environmental
controls’ as representing nurture.
It is clearly important to consider ways in which we can
provide a ‘safe container’ for our children, such as establishing
consistent patterns of response, rhythms, routines and ‘house rules’
(‘building regulations’) and the optimal physical and emotional
milieu within which they can thrive (‘environmental controls’).
In essence, as parents we must become the co-regulatory secure
base from which our youngsters can develop: the consistent ‘safe
house’ within which they can begin to feel ‘held’ and valued,
allowing them to explore within safe limits and to acquire self-
confidence and competence.
Turning to ‘environmental controls’, these will include the
furniture and fittings of our homes: soft furnishings, wallpaper
patterns and paintwork colours, lighting, odours, levels of
background and sudden, occasional noise, the availability and
use of electronic equipment and even the general ‘clutter’ of our
personal possessions. In addition, consideration of the emotional
milieu requires us to reflect on our patterns of handling and
expressing our own emotions and the feelings other family
members or friends may bring to our homes.
We saw in Part 1 how the ability to learn to self-calm starts
in the womb and that foetuses who have a calm and relaxed
atmosphere in which to develop are likely to be calm, relaxed
babies. They learn from repeated interactive experiences how to
use their parents as vital ‘regulators’ to calm them when aroused,
and become ‘wired up’ accordingly. Conversely, babies exposed to
distress, such as parental violence or depression, in the womb are

unlikely to experience sufficient calm and relaxation. Instead they
become ‘wired up’ to remain in high states of arousal (Schore 1994;
D’Andrea et al. 2012) in order to survive the continuing stress
they anticipate on entering the world. Due to increased ‘baseline’
stress hormone levels they are likely to remain unregulated with
high heart and respiration rates, and tensed bodies. A smaller
group learn to ‘shut down’, appearing unusually unresponsive
and ‘flat’ or with a weak muscle tone. Over time these response
patterns and associated physical sensations become consolidated
into children’s perceptions of ‘what the world is like’, ‘who I am’
and ‘what I do’, so that, in effect, they may struggle to access any
other way of feeling or being.
Poorly regulated children need help to identify, name and
manage their feelings long beyond the time when their more
securely attached peers have learned to regulate themselves: ‘think
toddler’ is the watchword here. We may have children who are
chronologically ten years of age but whose ability to regulate has
not moved into, or beyond, the toddler stage of development. As
therapeutic parents this may mean managing our ten-year-olds as
if they were babies or toddlers, while at the same time recognising
their chronological needs and responding with age-appropriate
strategies. This might mean providing increased supervision and
support in any environment or situation where we recognise
our children may struggle. It is likely to mean changing our
expectations of their capacity to undertake tasks that we would
expect to be easy for similar-aged children with less traumatic
backgrounds.
Our task may be made more difficult since our children’s
abilities are not fixed; at times they may seem to manage in age-
appropriate ways, whilst at others they may struggle. This can
lead to the perception, in ourselves or others, that they are being
‘lazy’, ‘oppositional’ or ‘stupid’. We must remind ourselves, and
explain clearly to other people, that what looks like ‘won’t do’ is
a case of temporary ‘can’t do’ and respond appropriately to their
current functional, rather than their chronological, age.
Building regulations
We can think of ‘building regulations’ in relation to the concrete
structures that surround our children, providing them with a stable
‘safe house’ within which they feel ‘at home’ and to which they
can return whenever they need reassurance and comfort. Initially
this will be a literal ‘return and check-in’ process, allowing our
children to reconnect and become re-regulated. Gradually this
leads to the inner construction of OP : when children take for
granted that we are always ‘there for them’, and ‘in their corner’.
Whilst at one level maltreated children may ‘know in their heads’
that their house is still there when they cannot see it, their ‘faulty
wiring’ can mean they do not ‘know this in their bodies’ (Bomber
2007). The body sensations they experience can trigger memories
of previous abandonments, losses or placement moves that ‘short-
circuit’ conscious awareness, pressing ‘hard-wired panic buttons’
and undermining the safe foundations we have been building
with them. For these children ‘out of sight’ is quite literally ‘out
of mind’.
Recognising these ‘structural and functional weaknesses’, it
makes sense that, for example, when our children come home to
us we do not move house for some considerable time. However
tempting it may be to look for a bigger house with, perhaps,
a bigger garden, our children are likely to feel destabilised and
out of their already precarious ‘comfort zone’. It may also be
advisable to stick to our existing décor: ‘shabby’ beats ‘showy’
in inner-comfort terms. (In similar vein, taking short breaks from
home can wobble children’s foundations – even if we are with
them all the time, as we explore in Chapter 13, ‘Making Changes,
Managing Changes’.) If a house move is unavoidable it can help
our children feel ‘we are all moving together’ if, for example,
we pack our clothes in the same container as theirs, rather than
separately, talk about ‘when we are in our new home’ and display
photographs of both old and new houses prominently.
In our experience, ‘our house’, to poorly regulated children of
whatever age, is the cornerstone upon which we can help them build
attachment security: a real place that they can continually touch,
feel, smell and move about in. They may become unexpectedly
distressed when away from home or show reluctance to ‘go out to
play’ or on school trips, since this involves the perception of loss
of their safe space. If we remain understanding in these situations
and let our children know it is OK to have these fears, we can
help them practise managing their distress. We have also found
that it can help to identify a special ‘safe place’ to which children
can retreat in times of stress. This might be the corner under the
stairs or beneath the kitchen table: a small ‘nest’ space providing
physical as well as emotional security. Initially we may need to
help our children find their safe place, encourage them to go there,
and stay there with them, when we spot that they are becoming
upset. Familiar story books and a favourite ‘blankie’ to touch and
smell can make their ‘hidey hole’ even more comforting.
Although OP begins with the gradual recognition that ‘things’
(objects) remain when out of view, fundamentally it depends on
our predictability and consistency as co-regulating caregivers.
Hence our enduring physical presence, alongside the predictability
of our actions and emotions, provides the foundation upon
which our children build secure new lives. Therapeutic parents
are specially placed to offer children the closeness, solidity and
‘feel-ability’ to create the new relationship connections that
will, in turn, alter old response patterns, repair ‘wiring circuits’
and develop better functioning bodies, brains and minds. The
more physical dependability we provide and the more physical
dependence we encourage in the short to medium term, the more
independent our children can become. When we find ourselves
acting in counter-intuitive ways, such as finding and putting on
our children’s shoes for them, when their peers can manage these
tasks competently, we should recognise that we are ‘filling in
the experiential and developmental gaps’ in our children’s lives:
creating opportunities for rebuilding their structural foundations.
Environmental controls
This brings us nicely to ‘environmental controls’. Since as caregivers
we are the prime regulators of our children’s environment, both
physically and emotionally, we should begin by considering
our home environment in ‘bottom up’ terms: asking ourselves
whether the level of stimulation is too great for our children’s
under-developed core regulatory systems (bottom-storey level)
. For example, as caring parents, we may wish to provide a huge
choice of toys and experiences for our children, assuming this
will help them grow and develop, particularly if we know they
have previously been neglected. However, this ‘catch-up sensory
diet’ often leads to children pulling out or wrecking every toy,
recreating the chaos of their past experiences, and becoming
so over-stimulated that they play in stereotypical, ‘tantruming
toddler’ ways. Alternatively they may appear incapable of
engaging in any meaningful play whatsoever. In our experience
it is better to adopt the principle of ‘the fewer toys the better the
learning environment’.
Our aim is always to avoid sensory overload whether seen,
heard, touched, smelled, tasted or experienced as movement. It
takes babies years to learn about, and make sense of, everything
around them, to filter out ‘irrelevant’ information and ‘set their
physiological and emotional thermostats’ for maximum comfort.
Like new-born infants, maltreated children may still startle at loud
noises, find the tastes and textures of new foods challenging, or
become upset by unfamiliar odours or unexpected movements. Just
as ‘good enough’ parents intuitively take control of the sensory
environment for their babies and toddlers, we as therapeutic parents
should explore ways of managing our children’s environment
and help them establish their vital regulatory circuits. In essence,
the ‘bottom up’ approach means creating safe space, alongside
support and encouragement for them to practise becoming, and
remaining, calm and relaxed.
For example, we need to think about the sounds in our
homes and whether these form part of the optimal milieu for our
children’s fragile sense of wellbeing. Interestingly, while silence
might seem the ultimate way to experience peace and tranquillity,

this may prove too much for children whose inner worlds are
chaotic and fear-driven. Here the judicial use of calming music
may help. At other times we might try out different types of
music and monitor their impact: louder music could work when
engaging in more boisterous activities, whilst calmer music would
be more appropriate at night-time. We also need to be aware of
the noises we ourselves create, as we move about and chatter,
and the volume and tenor of the television programmes we are
watching, particularly when children are in bed. It is important
to remember that whispering or trying to move about quietly can
be as distressing to traumatised children as too much, or violent,
noise; they may be lying awake anticipating the inevitable next
step: the rows, the slamming doors or the creaking stairs as their
abuser approaches their room.
Smells can be equally, if not more, provocative. The smell of
frying chips may be over-arousing to children who have waited
with an aching belly for their parents to return home late at
night with the only meal of the day. Whilst the odour of alcohol
needs little explanation in terms of children’s distress, that of
cigarettes may also bring with it memories of being burnt or the
accompanying aroma of parental drug use and the terror of a
frightening or passed-out parent. On the other hand the smell
of urine may feel so familiar that it can be a source of comfort
however unpleasant it may be to us. We can try to alter the ‘nasal
environment’ in our homes by, for example, placing a cut lime
or lemon on a saucer in the living area, baking bread, or trying
out calming essential oils in a safely placed burner. It can be even
more effective to apply these as relaxing massage oils: offering a
therapeutic cocktail of soothing, deep touch, warming sensations
and olfactory experiences that speak directly to the ‘bottom and
middle storeys’ of the brain.
Touch is highly pleasurable to most of us. At times it can make
us feel special, give us a warm feeling inside and relax our bodies
and minds; at others it can bring excitement or put us on our
guard that we may be in danger. Whilst we may have learned to
process and manage these disparate feelings, our children may

find them hard to comprehend: some find any touch distressing,
others show little or no reaction. Touch can become a particularly
sensitive issue in relation to abused children. Adoptive parents
and foster carers are often offered advice around ‘safe touch’ and
counselled to avoid close contact, or to wait for their children
to take the lead in physical engagement, in order to prevent
triggering distressing memories, or accusations, of abuse. This can
have the unforeseen and unfortunate consequence of perpetuating
‘unspoken messages’ children receive from their abusers: that they
are tainted, unlovable and untouchable. It also denies children the
tactile sensations they missed in infancy that are known to release
oxytocin, creating feelings of shared pleasure (Roth 2010) and
establishing positive neurobiological feedback circuits in their
bodies, brains and minds.
True ‘safe touch’ allows children to practise connecting directly
with us in very literal ways. In engaging in physical touching
interactions we create ‘joint circuitry’ which allows children to
‘get the feel’ of touch and ‘get the message’ not only that they are
wonderful and lovable but also that they exist and are a real part
of our families and our world. Dan Hughes (2009) emphasises
that children need touch to develop secure attachments. Moreover
he suggests that, where touch is an issue, we contract with our
children an agreed number of touches from us each day. He
encourages parents to use up their ‘hug ration’ early in the day
and spend the remainder acting sad that they cannot have more.
This humorous approach can touch parts others cannot reach and
stimulate requests for more! We can also make use of children’s
MNSs by being very obvious in touching others: for example,
exaggerated cuddles between ourselves and friends or partners
will activate children’s mirror neurons and begin to build new
circuits. We are connecting them both to the outside world and
to their inside world, establishing new ‘procedural’ (non-verbal)
memories. We might call this ‘mental rehearsal’, ‘walking’ with
our children ‘through the part’ until they can ‘walk the walk’
for themselves.
Since the vestibular system begins to be ‘turned on’ in the

womb, experiences at this time are pivotal to internal and external
integration and regulation (Porges et al. 1996) and hence to the
formation of the secure base that is at the heart of attachment. Sadly
in chaotic and neglectful families, unborn babies may be exposed
to too much movement (perhaps Mum was subjected to repeated
shaking by an abusive partner) or too little sensory experience,
such as in concealed pregnancies. These experiences adversely
affect the development of the vestibular (balance) system, bodily
and spatial awareness and vital connections to other sensory
systems: children’s sense of themselves and others, their position
in the world and their connections to it are compromised.
Since children’s balance systems are consolidated in the early
months after birth, they remain vulnerable to sensory under- or
over-load during this period. Maltreated children may be left
lying for extended periods without being picked up, or strapped
into baby carriers, bouncers or buggies, limiting their experience
of being moved and of moving themselves. Others may have
been pushed, pulled, whirled around or shaken so much that they
may, quite literally, ‘not know which way is up’. We need to be
aware, on our children’s behalf, of the upsetting effects in the
present of, for example, wobbly chairs, uneven floors, mattresses
with too much ‘give’, bunk beds, playground equipment or even
rough-and-tumble play. We should also remind ourselves that a
physically out-of-balance child is likely to be more readily thrown
out of kilter by other environmental stimuli and less likely to
find comfort in being picked up, being rocked or other physical
contact. In fact these actions may destabilise them further.
Now let us consider the emotional environment within our
homes: the metaphorical furniture, fittings and wallpaper of
our living space. We might begin by asking ourselves whether
our homes are calm spaces where clear boundaries have been
established. For example, have our children learned to expect
‘three square meals a day’ yet? Do we usually have predictable
mealtimes, where children recognise and know what kind of food
they might expect – and how much? To children raised in chaotic
families, where food was scarce or meals a case of ‘grab what you
can when you can’, the availability and predictability of food can
feel like ‘life and death issues’. In human evolutionary terms this
may indeed have been the case, causing their core systems, such
as the brainstem, to trigger survival behaviours to obtain vital
energy supplies. Reprogramming such a basic drive will take a
great deal of time, energy and ‘strategic planning’ on our part.
In similar vein, we need to consider whether we have developed
sufficiently clear, predictable bedtime routines. While these may
be set aside occasionally, it is important to be as consistent as
possible. Children who have suffered physical neglect are unlikely
to have had anyone who routinely put them to bed; where they
suffered emotional neglect, being sent to bed may have been
experienced as punishment or rejection. For sexually abused
children, bedtime may have been a time of anxiety and fear rather
than of calm relaxation. Over and above this, since most of our
children have had little opportunity to establish OP, part of their
distress will relate to uncertainty that we will still be there in the
morning, or indeed whether, when they are alone and upstairs
in bed, we are there for them at all. All these factors may be
coming into play when we encounter delaying tactics, resistance,
repeated calls for attention, insistence on strange rituals or night-
time wanderings: typical behavioural communications that the
emotional environment is not conducive to relaxation and ‘letting
go’.
Moving upwards through our three-storey house, we turn
more specifically to the limbic areas that form the next step
in our process of ‘environmental control’. Observing attuned
parent–child interactions we can see the reciprocal nature of
these relationships that represent the second foundation stone
of co-regulation. Unfortunately, maltreated children do not have
consistent experiences of creating this shared ‘dialogue’. Instead
they become attuned to their parents’ fear-based states, tuned into
recognising and dealing with parents’ expectations, rather than
expecting to be regulated by them. Consequently we are unlikely
to receive the responses from our children that we might expect.
Smiles may prompt glares or avoidance of eye contact; cuddles

being shrugged off or actively avoided; a gentle hand on the
shoulder resulting in spitting, or a fist in our face; our attempts to
comfort a crying child yield only stiffness and withdrawal.
Here we should remember that our children lacked opportunities
for their bodies, brains and minds to make good connections
between their needs and feelings and their parents’ responses.
They have been tuned to discord rather than harmony, ‘tuned out’
or ‘turned off ’ rather than having rehearsed the attunement that
would allow them to feel cared for and comforted. It is crucial to
remind ourselves that our children’s behaviour is not a rejection
of us: it is the only way they know of communicating their inner
feelings and beliefs. Holding in mind that our children are ‘talking
to us’ rather than ‘lashing out at us’ enables us to step back from
their behaviour and remain open and calm. Our mantra of ‘What’s
this child saying to me?’ rather than ‘What’s this child doing to me?’
sums this up. Repeated regularly it helps us develop the right
mind-set for developmental reparenting and tune into what we
cannot see and hear rather than what we can.
We understand it is hard to go on offering positive, loving
care to rejecting children. Equally we have learned that this is the
best way to help children experience the world as safe, and us as
nurturing, ready and able to meet their needs. Hence it is essential
that we begin by clearly identifying our own feeling states and
how they change according to our environment. We are then in a
better place to consider our children’s emotional and behavioural
states and provide the co-regulation they still need. Moreover it
is vital that we consider who and what we are. Are we ‘morning’
or ‘evening’ people? Do we need a cup of tea or a shower before
we face the world? What are the particular behaviours in our
children that most upset or frustrate us? Becoming more aware
of such issues helps us plan our interactions with our children in
calmer and more receptive states, enabling us to remain nurturing
even at times of stress. If we are not ‘larks’ we might prepare for
the morning ‘rush hour’ the previous evening. Small things like
ensuring school uniforms are ready and breakfast cereals set out
in ‘cling-filmed’ bowls make a big difference: we will feel more

in control of our environment and hence more able to provide a
relaxed environment for our children.
Another ‘emotional hot-spot’ we need to consider is the
‘school run’. Many children come out of school a little ‘hyped up’
and tired; this pattern is often magnified in our children, making
home time very stressful all round. It can be extremely helpful
to have a ‘nurture break’ for ourselves before we start the school
run. Taking half an hour to have a cup of coffee, read a book or
go for a walk is much more effective than continuing with our
workplace or household jobs and then dashing out of the door
feeling stressed. We can also practise prioritising our tasks and
‘letting go of stuff ’, rather than worrying that things have been
left undone. Reminding ourselves that, like babies, our children
can only be calmed by calm parents helps us see the importance
of taking our time and exploring ways in which we can remain as
calm and relaxed as possible.
Regulating emotions
Abusive, angry parents repeatedly leaving their children over-
stimulated, and neglectful parents leaving their infants under-
stimulated or over-stimulated over long periods, cannot provide
the vital nurturing environment that promotes the development
of self-regulation. Instead children remain in unregulated
physical and emotional states, unable to self-calm or establish
their ‘comfort zone’. Such strong feeling states become trauma-
linked via the amygdala in the brain’s middle storey, especially in
the right hemisphere. As a consequence, children continue to use
emotionally driven behaviours, reflecting these powerful sensory
states, that are often inappropriate to the social context, such as
when playing with friends or at school.
By understanding that the ‘bottom up’ developmental
attachment approach is the starting point in helping our children,
we become more able to manage daily life for ourselves, and
ultimately for them. However, initially at least, our children may
be unable to use our calming influence, even when we offer them

the nurturing experiences they need. Indeed their MNSs may
be so ‘programmed’ to ‘perceive’ threat that they continue to be
triggered into automatic trauma reactions by the slightest hint of
uncertainty, unfamiliarity or change that reflects past distressing
experiences.
Nevertheless, once we have found ways to help ourselves
feel calmer and more relaxed, we can begin to consider ways to
regulate our children more effectively. The most crucial element
here is our own calm and accepting presence: offering healthy
co-regulation for children who still struggle to self-regulate.
Taking time to be with our children enables them to function
better, even when later they are away from us. Of course no child
can, or should, be calm all of the time. Babies need us to help
them experience a range of emotions, to explore pleasurable
feelings, like joy and excitement, and to accept and cope with
over-excitement, frustration, fear and anger. Without safe practice
in modulating and shifting their feeling states, children can get
‘stuck’ with strong physical sensations and emotions they cannot
handle. It is up to us to ‘mirror’ and ‘hold’ these states: giving
them the experience of ‘moving up and down the feelings scale’
safely and creating their own ‘comfort zone’.
Children who have not had these experiences in their early
lives tend to swing between emotional extremes. Some develop
ways of changing their feeling state by, say, cranking up their
arousal until they ‘hit the roof ’ (sometimes taking us with them)
and then ‘dropping to the floor’. Others distance themselves by,
for example, using television or computer games, eating or self-
harm, to escape their overwhelming emotions. Many swing from
one extreme to the other, with little intervening ‘middle ground’.
These simultaneously rigid yet chaotic behaviour patterns are
terrifying for children, and often for us and our families. It may
take years of shared practice before our children can manage
fluid state changes and create the free-flowing river of wellbeing
(Siegel 2010) that will bring them peace of body and mind and
the resilience to ‘bounce back’ into healthy shape.
Taking a developmental approach, we must adopt the

interaction patterns that come naturally to good enough parents
of infants and ‘go through the emotions’ with them. Naturally this
will be far easier if we establish a calm emotional environment,
so that extremes are less likely to be reached and our children are
more likely to succeed in establishing a comfortable baseline of
feelings. We must examine our ‘emotional thermostats’ and reset
them to ‘warm’ if they seem ‘too cool’ or ‘too hot’. An added
bonus here is that this milieu will feel more comfortable to us,
lowering our stress levels and ensuring we are more emotionally
sensitive and responsive when the need inevitably arises.
The cortical (top storey) level of the brain also plays a vital
part in the development of self-regulation . We know that
children who had inconsistent care as babies do not develop MN
circuits that allow them to reflect on, understand or anticipate
the intentions behind their own actions, let alone the thoughts
and actions of others. Instead, abused children establish MN
connections that reflect previous distressing experiences, meaning
they interpret our intentions as potentially threatening. Talking
to our children about ‘why we are going to do what we do’ and
letting them know we understand that they may not be able to
work this out for themselves helps them alter their MN firing
patterns. These, in turn, connect up to and influence other parts
of their neurobiological systems, giving them greater awareness
and control over their core brainstem and limbic socio-emotional
functioning.
Like all neural pathways, MN ‘wiring’ depends on previous
‘firing’: the more our children experienced painful, frightening or
shame-inducing events the more activity there will have been in
the relevant MNS and the stronger will be its influence on future
behaviour. Their responses and expectations are preferentially
‘wired up’ to anticipate, react to and perceive threat in the actions
and intentions of other people. We must be mindful of this when
we are with our children, so that we, in turn, can use our MN
circuits to identify and predict their likely responses and step in
immediately. Our facial expressions, body language and tone of
voice are pivotal to ‘breaking the circuit’, so that new, healthier

information can be ‘heard’ and ‘seen’, encouraging new MN
pathways to begin ‘firing and wiring’ together. We may need to
check ourselves out in a virtual mirror first!
The timing of our interventions is crucial. Talking to children
about our intentions before we interact or intervene in situations,
whilst they are relatively calm, is more helpful than trying to
explain our intentions after we have acted and triggered our
children into a dysregulated state, since at this point they will
be acting out of their sensori-motor and emotional systems and
will have little access to their thinking brains. They are then quite
literally unable to ‘hear’ what we are saying, and instead of setting
in train new, healthier patterns of neural firing we reinforce the
unhelpful old patterns and set them, and ourselves, up for failure.
Of course, if we identify feelings in ourselves that could create
fearful perceptions and expectations in our children, this is the
time to walk away, letting our children know we need time to
re-regulate before we engage with them. Since they are tuned to
non-verbal messages, they are not easily fooled by verbal ‘cover-
ups’ and need to see we can recognise and modulate our own
feelings and actions appropriately.
More generally, ‘talking as we go’ is fundamental to building
internal connections throughout the body, brain and mind. Good
enough parents intuitively chatter to their babies as part of their
moment-to-moment interactions with them, even though they
do not expect them to understand spoken language or reply
verbally. It is the rhythms of our non-verbal communication, our
sensory and emotional body language, that creates the attachment
dialogue with infants at the mid-storey level and facilitates a
gradual developmental shift from primarily non-verbal to verbal
communication. Recent MN research using brain scans shows
that areas in monkey brains that light up when observing others’
gestures are the same areas (predominantly in the left cortical
hemisphere) responsible for interpreting and generating spoken
language in humans (Rizolatti and Sinigaglia 2007). In pairing
verbal with non-verbal language in mundane interactions with
our children we ‘wire up’ their MNSs, allowing them to interpret,

anticipate and reflect on our actions and intentions. Using
developmental reparenting principles we can re-route neural
circuits throughout children’s semi-detached brains and create
more ‘joined up’ bodies and minds.
Finally, continuing our semi-detached house metaphor, we
should ask ourselves where in the house our children are at
any given moment and, simultaneously, where we are when we
are trying to communicate with them. If we are in the study
(cortical mode) and our children are in the basement (brainstem
mode) they are unlikely to hear us, let alone understand us, or
take conscious control of and for themselves. Instead we need
to join our children in the ‘basement’ and gradually help them
move up through, and across, the house towards the study. It
is by this step-by-step movement between floors and between
areas of our shared home that our children will begin to lay the
foundations of their inner world, establishing the springboard to
them moving out, when the time is right, to live comfortably in
their own homes (bodies), secure in the knowledge that ‘Mum/
Dad is there’ for continued support in times of need.
Chapter 6
Rocking and
Rolling
Creating Physical and
Emotional Balance
Throughout our writing we emphasise the fundamental

importance of balance and organisation in children’s early
experiences in order to develop balance and organisation in their
bodies, brains and minds throughout their lifespan. We established
that neurobiological development is ‘bottom up’: the ‘input’
to the ‘bottom storey’ of the ‘semi-detached’ brain providing
the foundation for our ‘semi-detached house’ . Within the
brainstem (‘basement’) the vestibular system forms, both literally
and metaphorically, ‘the organ of balance’, connecting directly
to the inner ear. Here three fluid-filled ‘semi-circular canals’
containing extremely sensitive hairs detect miniscule changes
related to body position, movement and position relative to the
environment (Goddard 1996): telling us ‘where our bodies are at’
and ‘which way is up’.
Neural connections develop on a ‘use it or lose it’ basis, where
‘neurons that fire together, wire together’, determined by the
quality of our earliest attachment experiences, particularly during
the first thousand days from conception. In the womb, amniotic
117
fluid cushions babies from extreme external movement, whilst

allowing them to change position, to achieve maximum comfort
and acquire a burgeoning repertoire of basic movements. From
the early months of pregnancy this provides invaluable input
to the developing vestibular system (Reebye and Stalker 2008),
preparing babies for the challenges of the outside world. However,
the amniotic fluid cannot protect babies from violent external
impact or extreme movement that could occur where mothers live
in violent relationships or, perhaps, when they engage in repeated
frenetic behaviour, such as over-vigorous exercising or wild
dancing. Difficulties can also arise where mothers’ movements are
over-inhibited, for example where extended bed-rest is required
due to threatened miscarriage, or where tight-fitting clothes
are worn to conceal weight-gain in unrecognised or unwanted
pregnancies.
The impact of exposure to too much, or too little, sensori-
motor information to the vestibular system is not confined to the
womb. Traumatic experiences during birth are known to affect the
neurobiological organisation of balance and movement systems
(Goddard 1996): very rapid, slow, unmanaged or complicated
deliveries can also affect children’s motor development.
Subsequently, as we know, babies need endless experiences of
being picked up, nursed, rocked and carried by consistent, loving
caregivers to feel safe: an underlying sense of physical security is
vital to the development of our sense of emotional security.
Sadly, many hurt children were raised in neglectful or abusive
birth families: left unattended in cots, or strapped in carrying
seats or buggies, for extended periods. As they began to become
more mobile, their activities may have been discouraged or over-
restricted by depressed or over-anxious parents. As a result of
sensory under-stimulation they may ‘shut down’, often becoming
floppy or apathetic. This lack of responsiveness or activity can be
misinterpreted as ‘contentment’ (‘good baby’) or ‘rejection’ (‘bad
baby’), leading to further neglect, by omission or commission, or
to abuse. Other youngsters attempt to find ways of stimulation,
through rocking, head-banging or becoming increasingly
Rocking and Rolling 119
over-active, often developing chronic muscular tension in their

necks and limbs. This, too, often generates anger in caregivers,
exacerbating their poor care.
Conversely, children may have had distressing experiences of
over-stimulation, such as being whirled round, swung wildly or
jiggled rapidly by caregivers misguidedly attempting to engage
with, or pacify, them. Only too frequently they have been
dragged, bounced or thrown around by out-of-control family
members. In such circumstances, children’s awareness of, and
capacity to achieve, physical balance is compromised, affecting
their co-ordination and ability to feel physically at ease and safe
in the world. Where too little stimulation is available to enable
appropriate ‘wiring and firing’, neurons are not ‘switched on’, nor
are good, functional connections established. Too much incoming
information overloads youngsters’ ‘wiring’ processes, causing
temporary ‘meltdown’ and throwing their sensitive systems ‘out
of kilter’. Consequently children remain on ‘red alert’ for further
dysregulating sensori-motor input: their bodies prepared for
fight, flight and freeze responses, since their early experiences of
co-regulation have been inadequate.
Since the vestibular system is also associated with auditory
and visual perceptual processing (Reeby and Stalker 2008),
global neurobiological integration can be adversely affected;
developmental difficulties such as dyspraxia, dyslexia, sensory
integration and speech and language disorders, and executive
function difficulties, can result. Frequently traumatised children’s
difficulties do not end there. If their vestibular system, informing
the relationship with the physical world, is compromised,
relationships in the social world are also affected. Imagine how
hard it would be for children on permanent red alert to cope with
simple nurturing interactions such as hugging. Our actions may
be enough to challenge their precarious physical equilibrium,
triggering positional insecurity. Their response may be to push
away, become floppy or stiff, or wriggle about. If we respond with
irritation or dismay this causes further ‘faulty connections’ in the
mid-storey emotional brain, strengthening negative perceptions
of caregivers. Through these distressing experiences, our loving

intentions become interpreted by their distorted MNSs as
confirmation that all parent-figures are ultimately hurtful.
Our children often develop quite ‘organised’ ways of
controlling their sensory input themselves, to the exclusion of
others: resisting our attempts to get close. We can recognise
this in ‘hyperactive’ children who are constantly on the go,
moving, touching everything, creating noise to create a personal
environment over which they feel some control. They ‘thrive’ on
intense stimulation to provide the stimulation lacking in their birth
families, or to recreate its familiar, ‘comforting’ chaos. Conversely,
our ‘quiet’ children seek to avoid intense movement and other
sensory input; they may resist joining in games or going outside.
They can become distressed easily, and as they grow up they may
appear ‘lazy’, ‘dreamy’, ‘loners’ or ‘couch potatoes’. In fact, they
too are desperately trying to limit the sensory and motor input
that informs their emotional states and threatens to overwhelm
their sensitive systems.
Our job, as therapeutic parents, is to ‘feed’ our children
a ‘sensory diet’ that takes full account of their individual,
underlying needs. Children who appear unable to recognise when
they are full, seem obsessed with food or eat inappropriately
need our help and support to acquire healthier eating patterns,
as do our poor and ‘fussy’ eaters. In both cases, we are helping
them practise new, and better, ways of managing their input and
creating fresh, positive associations between food consumption
and nurturing care. Rather than ‘food–fear’ connections we
encourage ‘food–comfort’ connections, establishing new and
improved neurobiological ‘wiring systems’, using the principles
of developmental or therapeutic reparenting. The same concept
holds for children with sensori-motor difficulties: they need
us to provide a ‘custom-built diet’ of movement and sensory
experience that allows them to create healthier neurobiological
wiring systems through adjusting their intake and output.
Our aim is to reset the balance of their sensory systems, offering
them moment-by-moment opportunities for new experiences that
improve their somato-sensory (bodily) perceptions and enhance

their body–brain–mind connections. Sharing these activities we
provide essential co-regulation that was a vital missing ingredient
in their early sensori-motor diet. We should start with the kinds
of activities we would naturally provide for very young children,
finding creative age-appropriate ways to slip these in to our daily
routines. On our ‘special menu’ are the oxytocin-inducing cuddles
and gentle movement of the early months, the rough-and-tumble
play of toddlerhood, and the more organised, fun activities like
cycling, swimming, trampolining and the team games of school
age.
We often need to start by helping our children ‘learn to
play’ before they can ‘play to learn’. The watchword of all our
interactions should be ‘hand-in-hand’: where simple, playful acts
of togetherness gradually become transformed into physical and
social practice for life. Our children will make better progress if
we avoid an over-stimulating diet with too much choice and if we
make small step-wise changes that do not threaten to overwhelm
them. This holds true whether youngsters appear under- or over-
reactive, or ‘flip-flop’ between these two responses. Whilst ‘less’
and ‘slower’ may be self-evident concepts for hyper-sensitive
children, who avoid intense sensations, it holds equally true for
those who seemingly ‘can’t get enough’ stimulation and constantly
attempt to create their own. For both groups, their precarious
neurobiological equilibrium is all too easily disturbed by change
that threatens their basic physical and psychological security.
Way to go
In Chapter 4, ‘Information: The Need to Know’, we explored
how children’s histories provide the key to understanding them in
the here and now. We discussed how children express their needs,
predominantly through behaviour, rather than spoken language,
and that the way we can make sense of their ‘behavioural language’
is by looking back at their early experiences. We emphasised that
we should reflect not only on what happened to our children, but
also on what it ‘did’ to them, in terms of their neurobiological

development and attachment patterns. This applies as much to
physical as to socio-emotional behaviour.
Clearly, therefore, our ‘going-back-to-go-forward menu’
should start with exploring ways of ‘revisiting’ our children’s early
histories from bottom up. Gentle rocking is vital for the healthy
development of infants’ vestibular systems and the integration
of their motor and sensory systems, and must occur within
consistent, caregiving relationships. If we know that our children
were over- or under-stimulated, and continue to struggle in this
area, the ‘starter’ in their ‘diet’ should take the form of shared
‘rocking experiences’. Below are some ideas to get us going and
providing a jumping-off point, to inspire us to be creative with
our children. Many more can be found in First Steps in Parenting the
Child Who Hurts: Tiddlers and Toddlers (Archer 1999a).
Action rhymes such as ‘Row the Boat’ and ‘Ring-a-Ring-a-
Roses’ come to mind: preferably enjoyed body-to-body or hand-
in-hand. However, if children are uncomfortable with touch and
closeness, we could begin by using a rocking chair or horse,
where we provide the ‘kinetic energy’. ‘Swooshing about’ in
the bath could be fun: after preparing ourselves in full rain gear!
We could invent singing games which involve leaning forwards
and backwards, practise the Chuckle Brothers’ ‘to-me-to-you’
scenario, play ‘Simon Says’, or pretend to be ‘trees swaying in
the wind’. Over time we can introduce our youngsters to the
delights of playing on swings (slowly at first) or sitting astride
gently swaying branches.
Good rocking experiences are as important for youngsters who
are over-active as those who appear uncomfortable with changes
in body position or active movement. Since the most effective
ways of soothing crying, flailing babies or ‘tantrum-ing’ toddlers
use gentle body language, rhythm and tone of voice, the same
holds for ‘wound-up’ children. Whilst for under-active children
we are aiming to ‘fire and wire new circuits’, for over-active ones
we are working to replace ‘old circuits’ with healthier ones. We
could think of ourselves as ‘generators’ or ‘regulators’: in either
case attempting to control input and output. So with children who

are forever jiggling, spinning, bustling or bouncing to provide
self-stimulation the principles remain the same, although we need
different techniques.
We might begin by ‘inviting’ ourselves to join in our children’s
frenetic activities: remembering to be playful and simultaneously
holding on to our capacity for self-regulation. We can then begin
to slow down or redirect their movements using our bodies, our
voices and our breathing. Singing is invaluable here. No matter
what we sound like, this rhythmic information goes into the
non-verbal right side of the ‘semi-detached’ brain, where it can
be processed by the sensori-motor and emotional systems, even
when the (left) language and thinking brain has ‘shut down’. It is
therefore much more effective than pleas to ‘calm down’: allowing
children to feel safer in, and more in control of, their bodies.
This, in turn, forms the basis for their secure base and sense of
wellbeing. However, since our youngsters may have clung to
their behaviour patterns for years, as their ‘safety net’, it can take
time to alter them. Indeed, practice may not make perfect but the
dividends are certainly worthwhile.
With a little imagination, many of these ideas can be adapted
for older children. A garden swing may allow both rocking and
‘acceptable’ closeness with teenagers, in time becoming a place
where they can feel safe enough to explore feelings in ways that
seem impossible otherwise. Other ideas could include wobble
or skate boards, balance balls, surfing, rowing or even tug-of-
war (folding sheets could fit in here – playing and learning (and
whistling) while you work!). Why not try a steam train journey
(often much less distressing to the vestibular system than cars)?
And let us not forget Wii Fit (or similar) options: there are many
that will appeal to even the most truculent teen.
Once we feel that our children are finding their ‘balance’
through rocking, we can begin expanding their ‘sensory diet’ and
help them feel increasingly safe in their bodies. We might think
about the rolling, bouncing and jumping games we enjoyed as
children and introduce these at our children’s pace. Action and
singing rhymes, like ‘Bouncing Up and Down on a Big Red

Tractor’, ‘Wheels on the Bus’ and ‘Jumping Jacks’, can offer a
great start. We can wrap children in blankets and roll them slowly
around the room, or roll with them down gentle grassy slopes.
Paddling in the sea can encourage stepping and leaping, whilst
swimming pools provide excellent opportunities for a broad range
of movements and acceptable close physical presence.
Trampolines appeal to children of all ages: at first children
may need us to hold their hands and bounce with them for
security or to have the trampoline to themselves so they feel
more in control of the movement. Then if we stand alongside as
‘coaches’, perhaps singing or clapping out the rhythm of their
bouncing, we become part of the activity and provide essential
co-regulation. Trips to the ‘swings park’ can provide wonderful
moving-fun areas, avoiding busy times, so that over-active
children do not hurt others accidentally and under-active ones
do not feel intimidated. Older children can benefit from fun fairs
and Disneyland, once they have developed a sense of danger and
responsibility! Meanwhile, Wii and Kinetix action and dancing
games could be just the thing.
An essential part of the sensori-motor diet must be rough-and-
tumble (RAT) play. Parents usually introduce such games when
babies become more mobile, as they move into toddlerhood. RAT
or rough-housing play (Panksepp 1998) has many beneficial
effects for both brain (notably the vestibular system) and body
and simultaneously encourages socialisation. Panksepp (1998)
claims that play is ‘one of the major brain sources of joy’: its
primary feature being touch. Clearly we can all have fun with this
one – except, initially, for movement and touch-sensitive children.
Thankfully we can introduce endless opportunities that will
entice the most avoidant youngsters into RAT play. Pillows and
cushions can be used as ‘buffers’ or ‘weapons’, water wallowed
in, streams jumped, trees climbed, holes dug. We can play hop-
scotch, skip with ropes, twirl like ballerinas, ride dodgem cars,
swing on monkey-bars, run three-legged races – the list is as huge
as our capacity to be creative. Team games will become more
important once our children have had sufficient practice rough-

housing with us.
Summary
As therapeutic or developmental parents we need to:
• be in the ‘right’ mood or find the ‘right’ mood
• understand our children’s early histories
• remember that ‘bottom up’ is the right way up
• be mindful that learning to play is playing to learn
• take our time: slower is faster and more is less
• control the physical and emotional environment
• give it time: practice is essential
• lead the way: hand in hand
• be sensitive and creative
• recharge our batteries regularly
• have as much fun as possible!
Chapter 7
Seeing Eye to Eye
Our organs of touch, sound, smell and taste allow us to build up

a partial picture of the outside world and can generate important
physical, emotional and thought associations. These sensations
and eye contact can all alter our feeling states dramatically,
bringing us comfort, joy and excitement or discomfort, pain and
shame. Being able to produce and respond to sound has led to
our capacity to produce beautiful music, to detect sound sources
before they become visible, to share our thoughts through
conversation and become social beings. However, our eyes play a
unique role in enabling us to engage, communicate and socialise
with others: to perceive their intentions (Baron-Cohen 1999), to
create mental images of them, and of ourselves through their eyes,
to express ourselves and reciprocate.
It is difficult to over-estimate the importance of eye contact
in the parent–child relationship. Gazing with love into the eyes
of their new-born babies, parents convey messages of love,
safety and security, simultaneously communicating that they are
unique, special and valued (Trevarthen 2001). These non-verbal
communications, although often accompanied by ‘baby talk’, are
experienced primarily through body sensations and emotional
feelings, creating the environment for healthy neurobiological
connections and the building of well-functioning MNSs .
Conversely, absence of eye contact, or the gaze of angry or
frightened caregivers, conveys distressing messages to babies
that they are unworthy of love and cannot depend on their
126
Seeing Eye to Eye 127
caregivers for security or comfort. In research involving ‘still

faces’, where parents were asked to show interest in their babies
and then withdraw attention for 60 seconds, the babies reacted
almost immediately with tears, followed by despair (Tronick
et al. 1975). If these distressing experiences occur repeatedly, they
trigger distinct neuron ‘firing’ patterns and ‘wire up’ unhealthy
neurobiological connections, including the ‘firing’ and ‘wiring’
of MN circuits.
At a recent training event we attended, participants were
divided into pairs. Half were given notes asking them to spend
two minutes describing a pleasant experience, their partners
instructed to show interest for ten seconds and then withdraw
eye contact. Almost immediately the talkers felt uncomfortable
and struggled to complete their task, drying up and being unable
to continue. They began to feel their partners were uninterested
and feelings of anger followed, alongside the desire to shout
and ask them to pay attention. If adults with reasonably secure
attachments and sufficient experiences of positive interactions can
experience such disturbing emotions so quickly, consider how
much more profound will be the impact upon babies with limited
experiences of comfort, security and self-awareness on which
to draw and whose neurobiological connections are still being
formed. We could try this exercise with a friend and consider
how we might feel if we were totally dependent on that person,
they were the most important figure in our life, it happened time
and again, and we had insufficient positive feedback to over-ride
the negativity we experience.
Infants’ experiences in the womb inform the senses of balance
(the ‘sixth’ sense), touch, smell and vision; however, these senses
are not equally well developed at birth; nor do they have equal
importance. Whilst balance and touch are essential during the
birth process, smell and vision are vital, in evolutionary terms,
in allowing infants to identify their mothers immediately after
birth in order to seek safety, comfort and nutrition from them: all
crucial to survival. Newborns pay greatest attention to parental
faces (Frank, Vul and Johnson 2009), in particular to their eyes
(Maurer 1993). Whilst their capacity to focus is generally weak,

it appears that the focal length of ‘babes-in-arms’ is just right
to meet their caregivers’ gaze. It may be that it is the contrast
between the face and the eyes that attracts infants’ attention: that
the eyes appear to ‘pop out of the head’ of those who are being
observed and who, in turn, are observing them. By six months
(Papousek and Papousek 1984) babies spend two to three times
longer watching faces that are looking at them than at those
looking away. Since brain development is ‘experience-dependent’,
it can be no coincidence that this allows babies to establish two-
way communication channels with others, thereby laying down
vital neurobiological intra and inter-connections.
The amygdala in the right limbic (mid-storey) hemisphere is
intrinsically involved in processing information from the eyes
(Schore 1994): assessing its emotional significance and laying
down non-verbal, or body, memories in the earliest months.
Such memories, also described as procedural or implicit, are not
retrievable through conscious awareness but recreate feeling states
that directly influence babies’ and children’s behavioural responses.
These reactions can be thought of as beneath consciousness and
‘reflex’ and may be triggered by a partial similarity between the
current feeling and the memory contributing to the resultant
feeling or behavioural state. Infants who have predominantly
positive early ‘eye-to-eye’ interactions with their caregivers will,
over time, be ‘wired’ to expect positive, pleasurable experiences and
learn to cope, in later life, with discomfort and absence of interest
from others with fewer distressing feelings and behaviours. They
experience greater wellbeing and face the challenges of life with
greater equanimity and resilience. Appropriately, the acronym
devised by Siegel (2010) to describe wellbeing is FACES: that
is, individuals who experience wellbeing show high levels of
Flexibility, Acceptance, Coherence, Empathy and Stability.
Loving looks and smiles from parents create a cascade of
pleasurable feelings in babies (Roth 2010). We see this almost
from birth in the smiles and giggles these simple facial gestures
generate. It is the dilated pupils of caregivers’ eyes that infants
‘read’: followed by the unconscious mirroring of the positive
arousal they perceive, raising their heart rate and releasing

neuro-bio-chemicals such as oxytocin, endorphins and dopamine
(Schore 1994). These chemical messengers not only produce
a ‘feel-good factor’, they also stimulate the release of glucose,
which actively promotes brain growth (Schore 1994). So the
more smiles and positive gazing babies receive from us, the more
pleasure, joy and excitement they feel and the better performing
their brains become. Of course, regulation of arousal is also
essential, as it is in every area of our lives. Youngsters are highly
dependent on their caregivers for co-regulation in the early years,
and sufficient, good quality, eye-mediated arousal regulation gives
babies a head start: typically they are able to make and break
eye contact appropriately and manage stimulating input within
comfortable levels. Just think of the way they draw us into games
of ‘peekaboo’ and let us know when they have had enough!
When discussing object permanence and constancy we
explore the importance of learning that things and people are
still there when they cannot be detected through the ‘five senses’,
particularly through the eyes. This is evident in the making and
breaking of mutual eye contact through games like ‘peekaboo’
that provide essential ‘firing’ practice for the ‘wiring’ of
positive neurobiological circuits . Through these, and similar,
experiences youngsters gradually learn not only to regulate
their sensory and emotional feelings but also to see themselves
mirrored in their parents’ eyes: to see, and learn the meaning of,
their feelings (Siegel 2010). Simultaneously, in looking into their
parents’ eyes, children begin to ‘feel’ that they exist and are part of
the wider world . This consolidates developmental attachments
and creates trust that they are ‘held in mind’ (Siegel 1999), even
when they cannot check this directly through ‘seeing eye to eye’.
Young children who are not exposed to parents’ loving gaze
and smiles receive insufficient positive feedback via mutual eye
contact to ‘wire up’ positive arousal circuits; they cannot gain
self-worth, acquire functioning regulatory systems or use other
people’s eyes as reliable sources of information about themselves
and others (Roth 2010). Many of us are familiar with children
who are distressed by sharp glances, or struggle to make or keep
eye contact; their MN circuits are ‘hardwired’ to anticipate hurtful

communications and dysregulation, including the triggering of
overwhelming shame . A key element of shame (Schore 1994)
is the effort made to ‘escape the gaze of the world’, to avoid the
critical or threatening perceptions of others. Children may look
down or turn away (de Waal 1992), hide or take off; they feel
disconnected and isolated and their arousal systems shut down.
Conversely, in ‘shame-rage’, children take control of distressing
situations by rapidly escalating their arousal and making
threatening, or defiant, eye contact.
We can consider these contradictory responses in terms of the
electrical wiring in our ‘semi-detached’ brain : with the loss
of positive eye-to-eye contact triggering either ‘short-circuits’
or ‘power-surges’. Returning power to a domestic wiring system
requires us to check the fuse boxes and replace blown fuses, or
reset the trip switch: merely flicking an individual ‘on’ switch
yields nothing but frustration. Similarly, in order to ‘resume
normal service’ in our children we need to check ourselves out as
the essential power source, recalibrate our own emotional settings
and make our restored positive energy supply available to restart
our children’s circuits. It is helpful to have a ‘head torch’ to hand
and to practise finding it ‘in the dark’, when we need it most yet
have greatest difficulty in seeing our children’s needs and being
their power source. Using our ‘emergency power supply’ we can
‘find’ our enlightened ‘sensible head’ and reconnect our children’s
‘broken circuits’. With sufficient repetition, we encourage the
development of healthier wiring in our children, with better
internal connections and less sensitive trip switches.
Both eye contact avoidance and overpowering eye contact
create discomfort in all those involved, leading to negative
consequences. We may perceive our children as ‘sulking’ if they
resist looking at us, or as ‘rude’ and ‘aggressive’ if they glare
or stare. Unfortunately this reinforces our children’s feelings of
isolation, worthlessness and shame and prevents them learning
from their mistakes. The natural ‘shame socialisation’ interactions
between caregivers and infants that begin in toddlerhood
(Schore 1994) allow young children to learn basic social rules,

so that they can fit into, and play their part in, their community.
Consequently children who miss out on mutual positive eye
contact in babyhood and experience overpowering feelings of
shame are in ‘double-double jeopardy’: they feel unloved and
alienated, they cannot regulate their feeling states, they do not
read other people’s intentions well and they fail to grasp social
rules. In addition they risk alienating the people best placed to
help them: their parents. Their capacity to ‘see eye to eye’ with
those around them is indeed compromised.
Another familiar behaviour may be our children’s tendency to
be ‘in our faces’, commanding our attention through fair means
or foul. Others attempt to be inconspicuous, preferring to remain
‘out of the line of sight’, or make their presence felt through being
ever-present, ‘helpful’ and ‘willing to please’. We can understand
these behaviour patterns in terms of children’s early neglect and
abuse and hence insufficient experience of feeling themselves
reflected positively in caregivers’ eyes. Not only do our children
have little sense of their own bodily and emotional feeling states,
they have not consistently experienced ‘feeling seen’ or ‘held in
mind’ when outside caregivers’ direct sight. Nor have they had
consistent opportunities to practise ‘checking out’, through eye-
to-eye contact, the range of well-regulated parental emotions,
positive and negative, that help them ‘read minds’ (Siegel 2010)
and predict intentions accurately. Since ‘good enough’ two-way
communication and anticipation systems have not been set in
place, our children are ‘working in the dark’.
Since their very existence depends on feedback from others,
children may go to great lengths to ‘be seen in the spotlight’; often
they have finely honed skills in ‘making a scene’ and ‘attention
seeking’ in order to get what they need (Bomber 2007). To them
‘out of sight’ is literally ‘out of mind’, so that even being cast
in the role of ‘the bad child’ feels better than not being seen at
all. Other youngsters actively seek to remain ‘in the shadows’
or develop ways of staying close and playing the part of the
good child, to obtain the smiles and looks of acceptance they
do not feel they deserve by rights. How many of us, as children,

experienced distress at being sent to our rooms for ‘showing off ’
or ‘being rude’? Conversely, how many times did we offer Mum
a cup of tea before asking for something, offer our friends sweets
if they would walk home with us, or work extra hard in school
so that teachers would praise us? We all develop strategies to get
our wants and needs met: most of us using a broad repertoire
of ‘acceptable’ interactions with others and using ‘in your
face’ behaviours only in extremis. For maltreated children their
behavioural ‘choices’ are more limited and persistent.
A major element of therapeutic parenting is developmental
‘reparenting’; that is, recognising where our children missed
out developmentally and providing them with consistent
opportunities to ‘make good’ their disorganised patterns through
shared positive experiences. For children whose immediate,
over-riding need is for recognition, approval and acceptance,
the intensity, frequency and duration of their behaviour patterns
provide us with opportunities to recognise their real meaning
and, with experience, to ‘read’ them: alerting us to the covert
needs beneath our children’s overt interactions.
Bearing in mind babies’ need for mutual eye contact and
communication (Gratier and Trevarthern 2008), we can explore
ways of letting our children and young people know we are
‘seeing’ and ‘holding them in mind’, so they feel less driven to
engage in counter-productive negative behaviours. In order to
help children ‘see eye to eye’ we need, metaphorically, to get
down to their eye level, just as we might join toddlers on the
floor to play. Simultaneously we should remind ourselves that our
children are likely to have poor skills in modulating eye contact,
and hence regulating their feelings. As the brain is an ‘anticipation
machine’, their brains, bodies and minds are wired up to expect
the rejection, abandonment, criticism and pain that infused
their earliest experiences. To these youngsters, an unguarded or
untimely word, gesture or glance from us triggers anticipation of
further negative interactions and generates overwhelming ‘mid-
storey’, emotionally driven reactions not mediated by their ‘top
storey’ thinking brains.
Consequently, it is vital we remain vigilant to where we

ourselves are ‘coming from’ and take time to consider our visual
communications carefully before acting. It may help to visualise
ourselves picking up a new-born baby: approaching slowly,
smiling, making eye contact, moving in open, non-threatening
ways and speaking lovingly and with pleasure. Alternatively,
visualise meeting our boss for the first time: we would be on ‘our
best behaviour’, again approaching carefully, smiling and making
just enough eye contact, using a measured tone of voice and
gestures indicating respect. This may be a far cry from the off-hand
way we might greet a partner after a brief separation, or the over-
exuberant hugs, raised voice and teasing banter when meeting
old friends. Here, ‘we know that they know’ that we have ‘seen’
them and care about them and they too intuitively understand
our actions and interpret them appropriately. We cannot afford to
make similar assumptions with our children, any more than we
would with an injured animal. When approached and looked at,
‘hurt animals’ immediately go on the defensive, growling, glaring
and baring their teeth, or conversely cowering, lowering their
eyes and shaking with fear. These could be appropriate images
to hold in mind when approaching and communicating with our
hurt children.
Summary
• Eye contact is vital for babies’ attachment and development.
In the earliest months it is a source of comfort and pleasure
and helps, directly, to build better brains and, indirectly, to
establish healthy, integrated neurobiological circuits.
• Gazing into caregivers’ eyes gives vital messages to infants
that they are lovable and special, sowing the seeds of self-
worth. Eye-to-eye contact provides ‘psycho-bio-feedback’,
allowing babies and children to see themselves reflected in
a ‘virtual mirror’: to see who they are and what they are
feeling.
• From a very early age babies can regulate the amount of

stimulation they receive, through making and breaking eye
contact. Since infants require almost constant co-regulation
of their body, brain and mind systems this indicates just
how significant eye-to-eye connections are.
• Since eyes are ‘the windows of the soul’, they are the
means through which we begin to interpret both our
own and other people’s feelings, thoughts and intentions,
communicate non-verbally and hence learn to ‘see eye to
eye’ and form meaningful relationships.
• Neglected and abused children have too few consistent,
positive experiences of shared eye contact to develop
these essential life skills. Consequently, they cannot
acquire sufficient practice of managing eye contact, since
it was often absent, overwhelming or unpredictable. This
significantly limits opportunities for youngsters to practise
rudimentary self-regulation, ‘feel good’ and build healthy
brain circuits.
• Maltreated babies and toddlers do not receive the unspoken
messages that they are unique, wonderful and deserving
of loving care: instead internalising messages that they
are ‘bad’ from adults who themselves lack self-regulation.
This creates the ‘frightened or frightening’ caregiving
environment that is highly predictive of disorganised
developmental attachments.
• Being seen, quite literally, becomes a major preoccupation
for traumatised children: they constantly strive to control
both the circumstances and extent of their ‘visability’.
• Children’s perceptions and expectations of themselves and
others are distorted by hurtful early experiences. These
distortions continue to affect their beliefs and responses
within our families: creating insecurity and fear rather than
security and trust. They fail to see eye to eye.
An eye to the future

Having come this far, how can we translate our growing awareness
of our children’s negative perceptions into positive action? How
can we give them messages that carry just the right balance of
interest and yet are not over-intrusive or overpowering? How can
we develop mutual eye contact from which our youngsters can
learn about themselves through our eyes and become more able
to ‘read’ them and make better sense of our intentions? What are
the therapeutic reparenting principles we can introduce to help
them begin to ‘see eye to eye’ with the inhabitants of their social
world? Below we provide a five-stage plan of action. We should
keep sight of the fact that parents are the real experts on their
own children and, once familiar with the basic concepts, they
can, with growing confidence, create their own family ‘knitting
patterns’.
Check in and check out1

Stage 1: checking ourselves out
• Check out how we feel physically, emotionally, cognitively.
• Identify whether we are functioning primarily from our
bottom, middle or top-storey brain, sensing whether we
are breathing too quickly, feeling too hot or cold, hungry
or thirsty, wobbly. Explore our feelings, observing whether
we are upset, angry, powerless or scared.
• Using our awareness of ‘top down’ controls, make
conscious efforts to re-regulate ourselves from the bottom
up. Adjust our breathing, nurturing ourselves: dealing with
our feelings sensibly we can switch on our thinking brain
circuits.
1 The ‘check in and check out’ outline in Appendix 2 is the basic template. The one
here and in some other chapters have been specifically tailored to the subject matter
as they are innovative concepts with which some readers may be unfamiliar.
Stage 2: practising by ourselves

• Practise making eye contact with partners or friends,
checking out the feelings this generates in them and in us.
This works equally well using a mirror.
• Experiment with the facial expressions, gestures and tone
of voice that feel most comfortable, whilst remembering
that smiling with our eyes has the single most powerful
effect.
• Try out these exercises both when we feel relaxed and
when we feel stressed, to get a feel for how our reactions
vary depending on our circumstances.
• Take into consideration our unique family circumstances,
such as whether we are on our own or whether we have
other children who may also need our help during times
of stress.
• Establish ways of getting some additional help if we, or
our other children, need it. Test these arrangements out in
non-stressful situations.
Stage 3: checking out our children

• Observe how they are ‘making us feel’, physically and
emotionally.
• Use this information to work out whether they are mostly
functioning out of their bottom, middle or top-storey
brains.
• Check in on ourselves again, in case we need to re-regulate
ourselves.
• Use what we know about bottom-up development to
identify where our children most need our help. If in doubt,
start at the bottom and work up.
Stage 4: practising with our children

We need consciously to work on encouraging all aspects of eye
communication in our moment-to-moment family interactions.
Simple actions like passing a piece of toast offer great opportunities
to build vital social, emotional and cognitive connections. In
addition here are some simple things we can do on a frequent
and consistent basis:
• ‘Notice’ our children and let them know we have noticed
them – smiling, winking, waving, laughing with them,
putting our hand on their shoulder, ‘high-fiving’, giving
them the ‘thumbs up’.
• Comment on what our children are doing: ‘I can see…’
– being careful to avoid sounding critical or as if we are
laughing at them.
• If we cannot see them, ‘check in’ verbally from time to time
– a quick call is enough to reconnect. With older children,
a short text, ‘smiley’ icon or photo could be good.
• Show interest in our children and in what interests them.
This is a vital tool in helping them to ‘feel seen’ and gain a
sense of self-competence and self-worth.
• Shared attention is essential to the development of inter-
communication: encouraging this need not be obvious.
Reading comics together, cutting shapes from biscuit
dough, playing board games, throwing and catching balls
and asking to be ‘shown’ how to use the TV remote or
adjust our mobile are examples of how we can encourage
this.
• Suggest shared activities, such as bird or plane spotting,
collecting and swapping cards, watching sports or pop
bands: again providing a common visual focus.
• Devising games that ‘accidentally’ involve eye contact
can create many opportunities to connect. Play is the
ideal environment for learning, and ‘working through
the eyes’ increases feelings of comfort and pleasure whilst

growing brain cells and their connections. One of the most
obvious playful interactions is ‘peekaboo’ – adding age-
appropriate ‘tweaks’ to engage older children and keeping
the ‘disappearing’ times very short. For some children we
may need to hide our faces only partially, to reduce their
distress, remaining vigilant as this may not be very obvious.
• Introduce games like ‘Pass it on’: where a wink is passed
on from player to player – ‘over-doing’ our expressions and
collapsing into helpless giggles.
• Look in the bathroom mirror together whilst teeth are being
cleaned, or faces washed, grimacing, grinning, gaping,
groaning, using our whole face and grossly exaggerated
movements.
• Have a go at mutual face painting – chocolate could be
fun! For older children we might experiment with make-up
together, ‘doing nails’, false tattoos or spiking or streaking
hair.
• Once we are comfortable with adjusting our eyes and
feelings to a suitably comfortable setting in ‘normal
circumstances’, identify one or two ‘tricky’ situations where
we might try out ‘seeing eye to eye’ with our children.
Stage 5: dealing with difficult situations

• Take time to assess the situation and how best to approach it.
• ‘Think toddler’ – working out our children’s functional age
at that moment and treating them as we would a child of that
age. If in doubt, go lower.
• ‘Think hurt animal’ – checking out their current emotional
state and adjusting our ‘approach’ accordingly.
• Attempt to make some eye contact whilst staying aware of
our children’s difficulties in this area; on the other hand,
do not force eye, or physical, contact, as either may trigger

fight, flight, freeze or shame reactions.
• Provide simple, loving, accepting, verbal messages to
accompany simple, loving, accepting, non-verbal messages
through our eyes, facial expressions and body language.
• Speak calmly and gently, showing acceptance of our
children for who and what they are at that moment, staying
aware that they are so sensitised to perceived threat and
shame that we may inadvertently trigger powerful, negative
responses by ‘looking too hard’.
• Meet our children’s basic nurturing needs, for example
through cuddles (where safe), shared stories or TV
programmes, snacks. This allows ‘shared looking’ and
simultaneously encourages calming, ‘feel good’ biochemical
messengers, such as endorphins and dopamine, to circulate.
• Suggest physical activities we have previously identified that
work for our children to help them burn off over-arousing
biochemical messengers, such as cortisol and adrenalin,
circulating through their bodies. Nervous energy has to go
somewhere, and introducing regular ‘burn-off sessions’ can
begin to ‘rewire’ trigger-happy systems.
• Say what we see, empathise and gradually use our own
bodies and expressions to co-regulate our children and alter
the emotional climate for the better.
• Initially, match our communications to what we see before
moving our children ‘up’ or ‘down’ the arousal scale and,
once in their ‘comfort zone’, into their top-storey thinking
brain.
• Extend what we have seen to other difficult situations.
Chapter 8
Object
Permanence and
Object Constancy
We defined object permanence and object constancy in Chapter 1,

exploring briefly how inconsistent, neglectful and abusive
caregiving compromises the development of these two key
concepts. Below we discuss the potential impact of adverse early
developmental attachment experiences on our children’s current
behaviour and suggest some useful reparenting strategies.
Children with poorly developed OP struggle to keep things
safe or to find items, such as shoes, coats and sports kit, once
they have been put down. Their unconscious ‘thinking’ could
be expressed as: ‘was it ever there?’, ‘how can I expect to find
anything?’ or ‘anyway it will have gone by now’. They may not
think this consciously, or state it out loud; if asked, the majority
would probably say they know things and people are still around
when they are not in view. Even if they have little trouble finding
items that are hidden, or change in shape or form, the cognitive
awareness they have begun to develop is often overlaid by ‘gut
feelings’ of emptiness and loss that might be seen, fleetingly, in
changes in their breathing, twitching, scratching or fidgeting,
burping or slight flushing of their face or neck (van Gulden 2005).
140
Object Permanence and Object Constancy 141
Where objects or people are more significant, we might observe

a sudden rush of temper, defiance, dejection or confusion: subtle
signs that sensory and emotional areas of the mid-storey brain
have been triggered by a sense of absence or loss that our children
neither recognise nor understand. So their statements that they
know things are there are inconsistent with the implicit, non-
verbal, ‘body’ memories, stored in the amygdala and ‘hardwired’
to ‘reflexive’ reactions, below conscious awareness, that directly
influence their behaviour.
In addition, the more mature, explicit memory system,
involving the mid-storey hippocampus and directly ‘wired’ to
the cognitive and verbal areas of the top-storey ‘thinking’ brain,
may tell them that the object or person is still there. Having had
insufficient opportunities to ‘wire together’ their separate memory
circuits into an integrated system during their formative years,
hurt children lack a ‘joined up’ view of the world: their minds and
bodies give them contradictory messages . The clear disparity
between children’s feelings and responses (‘unknown knowns’)
and their conscious awareness (‘known knowns’) that people and
objects will reappear can be highly confusing and distressing. This
is particularly relevant in respect of even a temporary absence of
important people (or objects) in the present because it reflects the
absence of adequate caregiving from earlier attachment figures. In
effect any present emotionally charged feeling of loss can trigger
powerful feelings of abandonment and loss from the past.
We can check this out for ourselves using a simple exercise
described by Holly van Gulden (YouTube 2012). Holly asks
attendees at presentations to place an item of little significance
beneath their seats and leave it there for a short time before
retrieving it. Participants have no difficulties with this task.
However, their response is quite different when they are asked
to repeat the process with something that has special meaning
for them. Holly describes meeting a good deal of resistance to
this request and that when participants place objects on the floor
under their chairs they tend to glance down surreptitiously to
check their items are still there. Trying this exercise for ourselves
and with friends can help us make more sense of the sometimes
contradictory feelings and thoughts we experience and more
able to imagine the extent of distress generated by the perceived
threat of loss in children whose cognitive development remains
immature.
Many of us will be familiar with children who become upset
if we are just a few minutes late meeting them from school, or
coming home after work. Met by anger or sullenness, our initial
response might be to ignore them, wonder why they are upset,
give rational explanations for why we were delayed or tell them
they are over-reacting. With increased awareness of the underlying
reasons for our children’s difficulties, we can practise responding
in ways that are more sensitive to their needs, empathising with
their difficulties and apologising for getting it wrong. We might
say ‘I was thinking about you and wishing I could let you know I was
on my way’ and ‘I’ll do my level best not to be late again’. We can also
help them practise ‘getting it’ that we are always there for them
in spirit by saying ‘Remember you’re in my heart even when I’m not with
you.’
We can also create a broader range of ‘controlled’ situations
where we encourage both of their memory systems to ‘fire’
simultaneously and begin to ‘wire together’ more healthily: for
example, talking aloud about our thoughts, feelings and actions
when we lose and find items. Sharing our insights with our
children in simple, clear language and being prepared for an
extended practice period will help them ‘get it’. We can create
mantras such as ‘I know it’s here somewhere’ when we cannot find
something, speaking aloud in a firm, calm voice. Similarly, if we
ask our children, for example, to find their shoes and they are
unable to do so we should remind ourselves this may be an OP
issue. We might say: ‘I think they’re probably under your bed. Let’s go
and look for them together.’ A swift response provides direct brain
connections: linking the item, the belief that it still exists, and the
action of locating it.
Putting experiences into words helps children recognise and
interpret their confusing feelings and behaviours and encourages
new ‘wiring’ connections, particularly in the top-storey, cognitive,

areas. ‘Good enough’ parents of babies and toddlers do this
without thinking: using language way before they expect their
youngsters to recognise or understand their words. Together
they co-create associations between voice patterns, sensations,
emotional feelings and actions through the simultaneous ‘firing
and wiring’ of discrete brain areas, including MNSs . Over time
this use of language enables children to develop ‘symbolic’, logical
reasoning (top-storey) brain functions, using conscious memories
linked to words and events in time and space. In doing so, cause
and effect thinking, OP and OC are strengthened, allowing them
to reflect on current situations more coherently, and to anticipate
outcomes, using knowledge gained from their experiences.
Children are able to feel safer, more confident and competent to
manage their relationships and their lives comfortably. Reflecting
aloud about our thoughts, feelings and actions offers children
opportunities to make sense of our thoughts and feelings and
hence of their own thoughts, feelings and actions.
By spontaneously instigating ‘lost and found’ play, such
as ‘peekaboo’, ‘where’s (teddy) gone?’ and ‘jack-in-the-box’,
drawing attention to infants’ food ‘going in through the tunnel’
and pointing to, or rubbing, their tummies to indicate where it
has gone (‘Wow, I can see your tummy’s full now’) we can consolidate
the concept of ‘lost and found’, even when things are transformed
during the process. We can expand this for older children, using
more appropriate terms like ‘digestion’ or ‘going to the toilet’. For
even school-age children, games such as ‘hide and seek’ should
begin with caregivers hiding just part of themselves, a face, arm
or foot, under a blanket and then ‘discovering’ the ‘lost’ part with
a great flourish. This reflects the toddler stage when children
are often seen ‘hiding’ themselves, behind curtains for example,
oblivious to the fact that their head or feet are protruding. At
this developmental stage they believe that if they cannot see us,
we cannot see them. Parents should play along with this initially,
gradually helping their youngsters learn that they do not, in fact,
‘disappear’ when they are out of sight. Hence, slowly but surely,
children given playful learning opportunities can consolidate the

‘rules’ of OP and begin to generalise the concept to other areas
of their lives. Adapting such games for use with older children
who are still operating at the toddler stage of object permanence
allows us to help them develop their memory systems and lays
the foundations for the consolidation of OC : the concept that
a particular object or person remains the same whatever their
appearance.
Over time, these experiences allow children to make sense
of changes in more significant items. The gradual generalisation
of awareness allows children to know that ‘Granny is Granny’,
whether she is sleeping or singing nursery rhymes, that ‘my
sweeties’ are still ‘my sweeties’ when Mummy has put them away
‘for later’, or if Suzy borrows my hairbrush it will be the same
when she returns it (hopefully!). They are able to recognise that
they, too, are the same whatever they are doing and however
they are feeling. So, for example, when they feel upset or ‘bad’
they can increasingly remember (with prompting!) that they do
sometimes feel happy and have even been known to be ‘good’.
For some children these are totally alien concepts, since they have
not previously had caregivers who ‘contained’ their ‘big feelings’
or helped them move from one feeling or behavioural state to
another or made them feel good about themselves. They may
see themselves in one dimension only, or ‘forget’ what they did
at a different time or in a different state of being. Here we need
to remind ourselves of these misperceptions and be available
to remind our children. We should also try to create numerous
opportunities for our children to experience themselves in different
ways, especially positive ones! We might record such times, in a
special diary, through photos, or on our mobile phones: when
they are, say, laughing, cuddling the dog or helping bake bread.
Talking to our children about our own mixed feelings can help:
reflecting that certain events make us feel both excited and scared,
such as horror movies.
Since it takes time for children’s thinking to move from
‘concrete’ to ‘symbolic’, the more ‘evidence’ we provide, the more
we can stimulate and integrate healthy neural connections, and

move them from bottom and mid-storey to top-storey functioning.
Moreover, once children develop a strong sense of security and
trust in the reliability and predictability of their environment and
themselves, they acquire the resilience to ‘bounce back’ from
adversity, such as the temporary loss of a valued person or object.
They can ‘hold on to’ that object ‘symbolically’, knowing that
it continues to exist independently: allowing them to function
more independently. They will also ‘know’, and become able
to regulate, their feelings and actions. For children who faced
inconsistency, unpredictability and loss of caregivers in their early
years, the world seemed very different: instead of security and
trust in others there were expectations of threat, loss and chaos.
Consequently they still do not ‘get’ that their ever-evolving
world has order and consistency, that things ‘stay the same’ even
when they appear to have changed (van Gulden 2005). Having
a family calendar detailing regular appointments and activities
prominently displayed and referring to this regularly can help
children develop a sense of order and predictability that will
encourage a stronger sense of consistency in their lives with us.
Developmental reparenting provides moment-to-moment
opportunities for our children to develop the joint concepts of
OP and OC that are vital to help them develop the secure, healthy
attachment relationships, perceptions and expectations that will
enable them to function better and more fully in the world.
Way to go
First ‘Check in and check out’ (see Appendix 2). Then we can
consider activities based on the three basic steps outlined below.
Step 1: objects
Play ‘hide it and seek’ games little and often and move on to
person-hiding games only when we feel our children are ‘getting
it’. Start by searching together, giving plenty of clues, cues and
support. Exaggerate pleasure at finding hidden objects. Reduce

the level of support as children practise looking and finding.
Variations
• Child hides object; we seek (with exaggerated, audible
‘wonderings’, identification of clues).
• ‘Hunt the Sweetie’ (finder keeps the trophy!).
• ‘Hunt the Sound’ (hiding radio/CD player, with familiar
tunes, or wind-up timer that ticks loudly and goes off
almost immediately).
• ‘Hunt the Smell’ (concealing cut onion, favourite soap,
something you wear regularly (unwashed)). Use odours
children already know and like.
• ‘Make a Trail’ (like Hansel and Gretel) to find the way back
– beginning in one room, gradually extending range.
• ‘Bran Tub’ – hiding several solid objects to be found and
identified, before they are lifted out.
• ‘Jack in the Box’ (using toy or playing in person-size box).
• ‘Post Box’ and posting toys (using containers with
transparent sides).
• ‘Yo-yo’ – symbolic of ‘going and always coming back’:
reinforcing message verbally.
• Push child on swing or roundabout (as above).
• Puppet ‘peekaboo’ – hiding puppet behind (visibly at first),
returning swiftly with gusto! Use unimportant objects at
first: it is easier to tolerate absence.
• ‘I-mail’ – asking your child to draw a picture or write a
brief message to self. Place in self-addressed envelope.
Then, acting as post-person, leave room, knock and push
letter under the door.
• Biting into bananas (apples, biscuits), chewing and

swallowing, then patting stomach: ‘feeling’ the food inside;
children doing the same. Asking where the food’s gone
and, if not squeamish, exploring the outcome!
Good books
Lift-flap books (e.g. Where’s Spot?; Elmer and the Lost Teddy; I Want
My Dummy/Potty) are useful for this step. (See ‘Selection of Good
Books for Children’.)
Step 2: people
Once Step 1 is firmly fixed, introduce concealment of body parts
– using see-through fabrics initially.
• Starting by hiding parts of self only, gradually hiding
increasingly large portions and making it lots of fun.
Keeping children close (preferably touching), perhaps
asking them to do the covering up. Gradually introducing
hidden parts of face – eyes are particularly important for
young children, so watch for any distress.
• Once whole body can be ‘found’, moving on to hiding self
within room (e.g. behind curtain, toes protruding, rustling,
or wearing special perfume); slowly extending ‘seeking’
range.
• Children struggling with OP cannot wait to be found,
so keeping minimum delay between hiding, seeking and
finding. As we sense their capacity to stay ‘invisible’, slowly
extending our ‘seeking time’.
• Introducing blindfold games: only when certain that
children ‘get it so far’ and can tolerate being unable to see
out or see you; standing just out of range and wearing a
bell, whistling or chewing mints can help children manage
short ‘absences’.
• Holding on to the end of a long ribbon whilst hiding can

maintain a degree of continuing ‘there-ness’.
• Identifying/creating objects that remind children of self
when not there (e.g. photographs of you, with them),
mounted on key-ring or fridge magnet.
• Making sure children know we carry their photograph
with us at all times: involving them in taking the snaps and
being very ‘obvious’ about checking they are still there.
• Providing item (hankie, scarf, dirty socks) smelling of
self and encouraging children to keep these ‘transitional
objects’ with them.
Good books
Books which can be helpful here include Where the Wild Things
Are; I Want My Mummy; My Family; Where’s Wally?; Whose Nose?;
and Whose Feet? (See ‘Selection of Good Books for Children’.)
Step 3: child (self)

Developmentally this cannot occur until Steps 1 and 2 are soundly
established: it may take months before children are ready.
• Beginning by concealing only parts of children’s bodies
(face is more problematic as ‘seeing is believing’).
• Introducing variations using other senses: ‘smelling out’
children, listening for breathing or movements, ‘feeling’
with fingers or toes (not for touch-sensitive children).
• Drawing round children’s bodies, colouring in, sticking
pieces of fabric or paper (with lots of help) to ‘flesh it out’.
Talking about each body part and its role/connection to
others.
• Encouraging play with tunnels, dens, tents: initially together,
then remaining audible/visible/touchable as children ‘go
it alone’, maybe offering one end of long elastic, whilst

hanging on to the other end.
• Tin-can whispers – talking to each other through cans
joined by string, or using mobile phones with photos.
• Playing with mirrors or shadows, emphasising ‘it’s still me’
(encouraging OC).
Good books
As above, Where the Wild Things Are is useful here. We also
recommend My Book About Me; The OK Book; The Underwear Book;
and This is My Hair. (See ‘Selection of Good Books for Children’.)
Ideas for older children

• Lending children something with no extrinsic value but
lots of intrinsic ‘us’ value.
• Providing laminated photo-key ring, wipe-able message
bag label or other age-appropriate ‘transitional objects’.
• A printed photograph is especially helpful, keeping copies
as replacements of lost or damaged ones.
• Playing with a ‘yo-yo’: as metaphor for always being in
contact even when apart – and always coming back.
• Throwing a frisbee/boomerang.
• Throwing balls into bushes to be searched for and found.
• Customising ‘Bear Factory’ teddies: pre-recording your
message.
• Playing ‘Pairs’ memory game.
• Playing ongoing ‘O and Xs’ game (O = hug; X = kiss: to
be redeemed by winner).
• Jigsaws can also be left out so family members can pop
pieces in as they pass.
• Giving exaggerated reminders, for example ‘see you soon’

at each separation, however brief; using egg-timer to make
time tangible and more bearable.
• Trying never to be late: if unavoidable, acknowledging,
empathising with how distressing this feels.
• Leaving short messages (or e.g. chocolate hearts) for
children to ‘find’ when separated – or popping into school
bag.
• Using calendar (with family photos) so children can see
what’s happening, such as shared mealtimes.
• At bedtime, providing ‘transitional objects’, photos,
recorded messages/songs, promising to return after a few
minutes and consistently doing so.
• Supplying mobile phone: texting or sending photos to
keep in touch.
• Using family photo as screensaver on PCs; tweeting if
comfortable with this.
• Providing children with photographs of our workplace;
including pictures of ourselves with our children displayed
in our workspace.
Chapter 9
Talking, Telling,
Timing
The following are typical conversations that might occur in our

homes on a daily basis:
Scenario 1
‘Why did you hit

your brother?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘I saw you do it.’
‘Well he hit me first.’
‘That’s not true. I

saw what happened.’
‘It’s not fair,
you always
take his side.’
151
This is frequently followed by children going into a rage and

storming out of the room, leaving us feeling angry and bewildered
at how such simple interactions escalated into major arguments.
Scenario 2
‘Did you take the

biscuits out of the box?’
‘NO!’
‘Well why are all the

wrappers under your bed?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I just need you to

tell me the truth.’
‘I am telling the truth.

You always blame me.’
This is often followed by a ‘No, I don’t’/‘Yes, you do’ dialogue,

leaving us and our children trying to justify our positions and
feeling misunderstood and defensive. Moreover we fail to resolve
the situation.
Talking, Telling, Timing 153
Scenario 3
‘How did you get

on at school today?’
Shrug
‘I’m asking you a simple
question. Why can’t
you answer me?’
Shrug
This is followed, again, by us feeling a sense of frustration and

failure. This scenario is likely to feel hurtful because we desperately
want to be good parents, able to create an environment where
our children feel relaxed enough to talk to us and share their
experiences and worries. Yet, here we are, with our children
refusing to share simple things like their school day, whilst other
children seem happy to greet their parents and engage with them
avidly. We may also feel that teachers and fellow parents are
observing, and perhaps judging, us, knocking our self-confidence
still further.
If any of these conversations strike home, we should remind
ourselves that we are not alone in experiencing rejection,
insolence, tantrums or even violence. Feelings of frustration,
anger, disappointment and failure are only too common, and
understandable, in our families, experiences that are shared
by many parents of hurt children who faced anger, criticism,
threats, violence, ridicule or rejection in their birth families.
Open discussion and truth may also have been at a premium
there. In our first example we may initially have felt annoyed, in
the second, mildly frustrated, and in the third, pleased to see our
children and interested in their day, then hurt by their rejection.
It is hard to think that such natural feelings might be interpreted by

our children as rage, fury or interrogation: yet this is what is likely
to underlie their responses. Rather than ‘lying’, trying to make us
angry or dismissing us, our children are letting us know the fear
that such apparently mundane interactions generate in them.
Earlier we explored how children’s brains, including their
MN systems, develop in light of their early experiences and
consequently affect their thinking and feelings in quite different
ways from those of children who had ‘good enough’ parenting
experiences. We discussed how it was important to consider
which storey of the brain our children are ‘coming from’ at any
moment: taking a bottom-storey ‘basement’ default position if we
are uncertain. We also considered how our children are frequently
dysregulated and need our calm, co-regulating presence to
manage their feelings. Only then can they move towards their top
storey, to access their language and thinking brain and respond
more appropriately.
Reflecting on this allows us to appreciate how our
communications can be misinterpreted by children whose ability
to ‘read’ facial expressions, emotions and the intention behind
words and actions has been compromised by early neglect
and abuse. It allows us to understand that they cannot for the
moment ‘know (or speak) their own minds’, consider how we
might help our children make sense of what is going on, and
improve communications between us. Here the ‘trick’ is to think
as much about when to intervene with our children as about what
to communicate. Reminding ourselves that our children’s brains
have been ‘hardwired’ to anticipate hurt, and to use survival-based
responses, let us revisit the conversations highlighted above.
In Scenario 1 our children would have anticipated that their
actions, if discovered, were likely to lead to negative responses
from caregivers. In the past this may have included physical
or verbal abuse or rejection, as parents over-reacted to their
children’s actions. An awareness of these influential, early
experiences is crucial, so that we recognise that small triggers
from us mirroring the parental response they have come to expect
can catapult children into a state of fear and confusion. We can

then begin to make sense of the denial that is often children’s
first response, since accepting responsibility for their actions has
potentially terrifying consequences. In effect we are trying to
engage with our children at a cortical level (the study) when they
are stuck somewhere between brainstem (basement) and mid-
storey (ground floor) ‘survival mode’ . Their only recourse may
be to shout ‘louder and longer’ in a distorted attempt to be heard
and understood.
Often children repeat patterns of behaviour common to
their families of origin: where parents denied the reality of
their behaviour, even when confronted with the ‘truth’. In these
situations our children learned that threatening interactions were
part and parcel of family life and were frequently accompanied
by angry denials. Such patterns of interaction become ‘hardwired’
into our children’s body–mind–brain systems, meaning they
repeat them in current situations that mirror, even to a minor
degree, their early experiences. In effect, our children learn that
denial is an appropriate response to difficult situations and their
MN circuits are organised in the expectation that owning their
actions can lead to serious, negative responses from caregivers.
Therefore they often misread our intentions, unconsciously
interpreting our mild annoyance, frustration or questions as
malevolent: responding from fear-based states and unable to
access the ‘mindfulness’ needed to ‘read’ the situation and use
‘top down’, cognitive, controls.
We should also consider the emotional impact of suggesting
our children take responsibility for their actions, bearing in mind
that they are frequently ‘catapulted’ into shame-based responses
that reinforce their negative self-worth. They will have received
potent messages in their birth families that they were responsible
for being neglected, abused or abandoned: for example, hearing
parents say ‘look what you made me do’ as a rationale for their
abuse. So not only did our children have to cope with the constant
fear of being abused, they also had to accept responsibility for
adult behaviour they could neither impact nor change. Faced
with this dilemma, children internalise beliefs that they are

intrinsically helpless, bad and worthless: feelings that are the
precursors of shame-based responses . They did not receive
the ‘shame socialisation’ that occurs in toddlerhood within ‘good
enough’ families, which allows them to experience, and learn to
manage, tolerable levels of guilt. Without this essential practice in
self-agency, they cannot begin to accept responsibility for their
actions when challenged. Instead they continue to respond with
anger or defiance (Schore 1994) or ‘freeze’ under the burden of
perceived shame.
Food issues, common in children who suffered neglect,
may also be important aspects in our second dialogue. Having
received inadequate or unpredictable supplies of food in their
early years, and often learning to fend for themselves, they are
unused to having their needs met by others. Children’s ongoing
fear of ‘never having enough’ can lead to them ‘taking matters
into their own hands’. Issues of OC are also relevant. Since
our children have weak ‘inter-state’ connections, at that moment
their right hand may truly not know what their left hand has
been doing. They may be unable to recognise that the biscuits
they took from the tin an hour ago have any connection with
the biscuit crumbs or wrappers that adorn their bed now. Taken
literally, our children may not be lying when they deny eating
the biscuits, since ‘then’ they were not in the same state of being
as they are ‘now’. Combined with desperate attempts to avoid
experiencing shame (‘I don’t want it to be me, that would be
too painful, therefore it wasn’t me’), this is a potent combination
that can end in full-scale denial or patent fabrication, as children
struggle to come up with stories that seem reasonable to them.
The third situation may appear quite different from the
previous two until we consider what our children may be feeling
on coming out of school. They have spent a day without us,
facing a stressful environment where they may have become
dysregulated, or tried valiantly to ‘behave’. As we have seen, our
children frequently struggle with OP and consequently feel that
‘out of sight’ means ‘out of mind’. It can be hard for them to
have any real sense of connection with us when we are absent;

they may also, unconsciously, blame us for ‘abandoning’ them.
Children who have had multiple caregivers may have little
expectation that the adult who took them to school will be the
same one who greets them at the end of the day. Moreover the
mummy who took them to school (waving goodbye) may not feel
like the mummy waiting for them at the school gate, smiling and
with open arms, or wearing a different coat. It may also be hard
for them to make the state change from school pupil to family
member (OC). With all these muddles whirling around inside, it
is not surprising that responding to seemingly simple questions
may be too hard to handle.
Perhaps most importantly we need to remember that, although
it has non-verbal aspects such as tone of voice and rhythm,
which are ‘read’ at limbic (‘ground’) and brainstem (‘basement’)
levels, spoken language is a largely cortical, thinking activity. It is
therefore most effective when both we and our children are ‘in the
study’ of our semi-detached brain. If we or they are ‘elsewhere’,
non-verbal means of communication are likely to have greater
impact: in such situations it is the tone and rhythm of our voice
(prosody) and our body language that children will tune into. We
may be using ‘empathy’ words yet conveying, through prosody,
looks or body stance, our frustration, anger, blame or even disgust:
our children then get ‘stuck in the lift’ somewhere between the
‘basement’ and ‘study’ .
The implications for therapeutic parenting are profound.
Starting from the twin premises that children’s behaviour is
the only ‘language’ at their disposal and that their behavioural
language makes sense in light of their histories, we should be
mindful of the reality of our children’s experiences and the
enduring effects this has on them. We must understand not only
what was done to our children but also what it did to them, not
as a simple, one-off exercise but as essential data that allow us
to reflect on the meaning underlying our children’s responses
during our everyday interactions with them.
We have considered how our children’s ability to regulate

their bodies and emotions has been impacted by their early
experiences and how they continue to need our calming presence
to become, and to remain, calm. Hence we need to examine our
own feelings alongside those of our children and ask ourselves
whether we are engaging with our children in calm, regulated
ways. Similarly we need to recognise when our expectations of the
outcome of such discussions are likely to be affected by previous
difficult interactions. In Scenario 1, knowing that we are dealing
with an incident of negative sibling interactions, our own MN
circuits may be ‘gearing up’ to face our children’s over-reactions,
putting us ‘on edge’ and ready to ‘fight’, ‘flee’ or ‘freeze’. It is
important to ‘know’ our own inner feelings and likely reactions
when considering ways to interact effectively with our children.
Now let us explore the impact our own histories can have on
our current interactions with our children. As children we may
have been told that, if we were ‘naughty’, ‘telling lies’ compounded
the issue, leaving us with a clear message that ‘telling lies’ was
an absolute ‘no-no’. However, if we were raised by parents who,
by and large, met our needs, our experiences were very different
from those of our children. Repeatedly being lied to, and hearing
parental dissimulation about events, means they learned that
telling lies was the ‘norm’. They have often ‘learned’ that this was
a way to protect themselves from further abuse. Their relation
to truth-telling may therefore be quite different from ours.
Exhortations to ‘tell the truth’ may both be asking the impossible
and counter-productive for our children. They may be in such
fear-based states that they cannot know how to respond, respond
defensively or try to create stories they think might ‘fit’. Whilst
‘after the event’ reconstruction is an accepted part of ‘normal’
memory, for children with developmental gaps that weaken cause
and effect thinking, combined with fear-based high arousal and
loose memory connections, this may indeed be their ‘best guess’.
So we need to recognise that ‘truth-telling’ should be our goal in
helping our children heal, rather than our starting point.
Furthermore, children who were forced to deny their lived

experiences of mistreatment are likely to have body feelings (non-
verbal memories) that are at odds with their ‘remembered’ verbal
memories. Their feelings of pain, hurt and rejection were frequently
denied by caregivers who minimised their own behaviour using
statements like ‘it wasn’t that bad’ or ‘it was an accident’. This
leads to children having difficulty connecting actions and words,
since the data are held in separate ‘storage systems’, resulting in
their current struggles to make connections between what they
did (then) and what they are feeling and saying (now). Again
they are not consciously lying; their bodies and thinking abilities
are ‘out of synch’ and they are ‘best-guessing’ as to what actually
happened.
Holding all these issues in mind allows us to consider ways
in which we can communicate with our children productively. In
doing so, we need to consider the timing of our verbal interactions
to reduce children’s fear-based responses. Since talking involves
predominantly cortical, left brain (‘study’) activity, we must practise
ways of lowering children’s arousal (right brain, ‘basement’ and
mid-storey) to allow them to move up into their ‘studies’ where
they can ‘hear’ us – and time our discussions accordingly.
For our children to engage with, and hear, us they must be
able to:
• recognise and use us as a secure base
• accept our help to co-regulate and avoid being overwhelmed
by sensori-emotional input
• learn to manage fear and shame-based responses
• ‘read’ our facial expressions and body language and grasp
our true intentions through functional MN circuits
• ‘hear’ and make sense of what we have to say
• access their left, top-storey ‘thinking’ brain (‘study’)
• know, accept and make sense of their past histories
• get in touch with and accept all of themselves, including

their innermost ‘fear-based’ child (OC).
To facilitate this we must be able to:
• be calm and regulated, so that we can provide co-regulation
• stay alert and emotionally available to help children
recognise and deal with their emotions
• show we are predictable and that our children can trust us
• create quiet, confidential times to talk
• choose our words carefully and match these to our tone
and body language
• remain aware of our children’s histories and trigger points
• share, in simple terms, what we know about ‘then’ and how
this impinges on our children ‘now’
• understand that ‘lies’ may be children’s way of keeping
themselves safe or their ‘best guess’
• help our children work out ‘what really happened’ – our
‘best guess’ is often pretty close
• show we accept our children for all of themselves and
remain non-judgemental
• explore and practise ways of ‘doing things differently’
• keep it short and sweet.
Translating this into practice and revisiting Scenario 1 concerning
sibling rivalry, our dialogue might go something like this:
‘I know it’s hard for you when

‘I wonder if you’re forgetting
you hit your brother and I
that I won’t hit you.’
ask you what happened.’
(increasing our children’s (reducing mirror

ability to engage cortically) neuron firing)
‘I guess talking about

it makes you feel really ‘I can understand that.’
bad about yourself.’
(recognising shame- (giving the message we

based feelings) understand why they struggle,
in light of their history)
‘When we’ve done that

‘I want to help you with maybe we can think about
all these big feelings.’ how you can make things
up to your brother.’
(showing empathy) (recognising that there are

consequences for behaviour
and showing we are ready
to help them manage these)
Then, later on, when both we and our children are calm:
‘I know you want to get on with your brother. My

guess is your birth family didn’t help you manage
this. Guess what? This is something I can help you
with. You’re such a great kid, I’m sure we can work
this out together. You might need some practice
to get it right, so I’ll keep an eye on how you get
on with your brother while you’re practising.’
(giving the message that we can help

and that change is possible)
We should, of course, have thought through the strategies we

offer our children in advance, taking time to do so between the
incident and our conversation and perhaps contacting a supportive
friend or mentor for advice.
We could formulate a similar conversation regarding the
biscuit-taking (Scenario 2). This may seem a less pressing issue
than sibling aggression, so we might take more time planning and
creating time to talk when we are feeling well regulated:
‘I need to talk to you about ‘How about if I gave you

the biscuits that are going a cuddle to let you know I
walk-about. I know how love you and it’s just your
hard this’ll be for you.’ behaviour we need to sort out.’
(increasing our children’s (reducing fear and shame-

ability to engage cortically) based feelings, showing
empathy, reducing MN firing)
‘I know it’s hard for you and I

really understand. I know you
didn’t get enough food when
you were living with your birth ‘But it wasn’t me.’
mother. You must have felt so
hungry at times and I guess you
still get these feelings sometimes, (giving the message
even though there’s always we understand why they
enough food in this house.’ struggle in light of their
history, demonstrating empathy,
reinforcing OP and OC and
reducing MN firing)
‘I really want to help you with

this and wonder if [the strategy we
devised in advance] might help?’
‘Why don’t we practise now? We can check in each

day and see how you’re feeling. I know it’s going to take
time for you to feel safe with us and I guess you’ll go on
letting me know when you don’t by eating the biscuits.
When that happens I’ll give you cuddles to let you
know you’re safe and that you’ll always have enough.’
(showing empathy, consolidating OSC

and giving messages that we can help
our children manage their feelings
and begin to feel safe and secure)
Scenario 3 lends itself to even greater possibilities for prior

preparation. It is helpful to work out practice scenarios for
ourselves, based on our understanding of ourselves, our children’s
histories and our current difficulties. Perhaps we could begin by
working out a bubble scenario in relation to Scenario 3.
‘Hi there. I really missed you ‘Hi there. Can I have a

today and was sooo looking cuddle to let you know
forward to home time.’ how much I missed you?’
‘Now what was that snack

we prepared for after school
time? Yes! It was…’
On a broader front, our sample conversations raise a number of

key issues:
1. Children’s behaviour on the outside signals what they are
feeling inside. They tend to show predictable responses to
familiar situations, helping us recognise the situations with
which they will most struggle. This allows us to prepare our
children, in anticipation of potentially difficult situations.
2. Talking to our children in advance enables us to help them
‘feel felt and understood’. Simultaneously we begin to help
them ‘read’ situations differently. When they are able to
reflect on and recognise our true intentions, we reduce the
firing of their trauma-based MN circuits. Over time this
alters our children’s ‘firing and wiring’ pattern, allowing
them to respond in ways that reflect the safe and loving
environment we are striving to provide.
3. Being open about children’s history allows them to process

their experiences and make sense of their past. Over time
this reduces their trauma triggers, helping them feel safer
and more secure at home and making it easier for them
to build secure attachments. In demonstrating empathy for
their struggles we communicate to our children that we are
‘there for them’, that they are no longer alone and can trust
us to help them. By promoting their healthy dependence
on us we move them towards healthy independence.
4. Providing opportunities to discuss and practise alternative
ways of responding means that our children need not
remain ‘stuck’ in re-enactments of their early history.
It provides a forum in which they can feel good about
themselves, gradually reducing their shame-based reactions
and conveying messages that, with our support, they can
make better choices. In doing so we are building the
foundations upon which our children can develop into self-
confident adults, able to feel good about themselves and
sustain lasting relationships, strengthening their wellbeing
and resilience. It may also help us feel better about ourselves
as parents.
5. Last but not least, we need to remain on our guard against
asking the ‘why’ question: reminding ourselves that, if our
children knew ‘why’, they would not be doing what they
do. Rather than asking children ‘why’ questions we need to
provide ‘why’ answers, saying for example:
• ‘I wonder why that happened/you did that/said that?’ Then
without pausing for an answer, ‘I wonder if it’s because you
were scared/hungry/muddled/angry?’
• ‘My guess is that you’re telling me that because you can’t quite
remember what happened and you’re scared you’ll get into
trouble/we won’t love you/we’ll hurt you/we’ll send you
away?’
• ‘Lots of children who were treated badly when they were little
feel they can’t trust grown-ups to be fair or listen to them.
They’ve had to learn to “forget” what happened and then make
stuff up. I think that’s why it’s hard for you to handle this.’
• ‘D’you know what? I think you so much don’t want it to be you
who hit your brother/ate the biscuits, ’cos it makes you feel bad,
that you can’t say it was you. Don’t worry, I can usually work
out what’s going on and help you work it out too.’
Chapter 10
Loose
Connections
In their early days, babies experience the world as an ever-

changing sequence of discrete events and themselves as a series
of disjointed sensory states over which they have little control.
They are vulnerable to unpredictable, external and internal, state
changes and totally reliant on their caregivers to regulate their
physical and emotional environment and help them move from
one feeling and behavioural state of being to another. As we
discuss throughout our book, feedback from significant caregivers
allows infants to make sense of what they see, hear, touch, smell,
taste and feel, from sensory information coming from the outside
world and from within their bodies. It is only gradually through
ongoing co-regulation and two-way communication that they
begin to recognise that objects and people still exist when they
are not immediately apparent (OP) .
From this, young children subsequently infer that they too
continue to be, irrespective of whether or not they feel observed
directly – object self-permanence (OSP). Not until the concept
of OP and OSP become established can youngsters learn about
the changing states of objects or people, using their maturing
mirror neuron systems (MNSs). Through repeated consistent
experiences, they come to realise that, for example, teddy is still
teddy whether clothed or undressed, wrapped in a blanket or
167
thrown on the floor (OC) . Subsequently, they recognise that

people stay the same, whatever their appearance or mood, and
begin to extend this awareness to their own states of being –
object self-constancy (OSC). Each state of being is characterised
by a particular constellation of sensations, emotions, memories,
beliefs, behaviours and thoughts that are ‘wired together’. The
‘firing’ of one element is likely to lead to the immediate firing of
the entire neurobiological circuit that underpins that specific state
of being.
Thinking back to infants’ perceptions of experiences and
themselves as discrete ‘chunks’, and how these become connected
over time through consistent feedback from attachment figures,
it is hardly surprising that the degree of ‘being joined up’ is
frequently much less in our children. Without a sound concept
of OSC how can we expect them to seem ‘together’, react
consistently, move appropriately from one state of being to
another, remember accurately, or know their own minds? Our
children’s body–brain–mind systems lack regulation, organisation
and integration: as a consequence they live poorly regulated,
disorganised and poorly integrated lives. So, when our children’s
mood swings seem unfathomable or scary, we should remind
ourselves that, like babies, they are unable at that moment to make
smooth transitions between different states of being and that they
are feeling far more scared or confused than we are.
Difficulties in making smooth state transitions is particularly
likely when children are already in high arousal, since during
extreme feelings they remain ‘stuck’ in their bottom or mid-
storey brains and have extremely limited access to ‘top-down
control’ . Over time, many ‘learn’ to escape these powerful
feeling states through dissociative strategies, such as cranking
their feelings up further and then ‘exploding’, perhaps through
provoking arguments, destroying furniture or possessions,
physical aggression, or self-harm. This is likely to involve the
triggering of ‘feel good’ neurochemical messengers, such as
endorphins. Consequently they are able to ‘come down’ into a
more comfortable state and begin to reconnect with us. Conversely
Loose Connections 169
we may find ourselves continuing to feel wound up, as if we are

‘holding’ all the emotion our children have ‘left behind’ and
sometimes they are ‘choosing’ the timing of their outbursts to
upset us and gain control. Luckily, as ‘good enough’ adults we can
develop ‘top down’ strategies to re-regulate ourselves and remind
ourselves of the ‘scared baby/child inside’ behind these survival
responses. Subsequently we can make ourselves available to help
them move towards more regulated, comfortable states of being
without them becoming overwhelmed and ‘out of it’.
Other children take a more classic dissociative route:
immediately ‘shutting down’ or ‘zoning out’, withdrawing from
us physically or emotionally, and often appearing comfortable in
‘their own little world’. In reality they feel as isolated, scared
and helpless as their ‘acting out’ counterparts. In physiologically
‘shutdown’ states, where their awareness and energy resources
are unavailable, they cannot re-regulate or reconnect with us.
The feelings of frustration, helplessness or rejection we ourselves
experience here are a valuable indicator of the distress our
children are experiencing simultaneously. Unlike them, however,
as ‘good enough’ adults we can re-regulate, reconnect to our
‘thinking’ brains and use our understanding and empathy to
‘get alongside’ our children and reduce their fear, isolation and
hopelessness. Reconnecting and drawing on our energy, they can
be re-energised, change states and ‘come back’ into the world.
If physical closeness (especially good for releasing the ‘feel
good’ neurochemical oxytocin) is impossible, we can use our
body language and tone of voice to reduce the painful ‘distance’
between us.
For our children, these polarised responses often become their
norm. The loss or transience of their caregivers, the inconsistency,
unreliability and emotional volatility of care and the over-
or under-stimulation to which they were exposed created a
chaotic and potentially overwhelming environment. There were
limited opportunities for our children to gain a sense of order,
permanence and constancy on which to build their perceptions
and expectations of themselves and others. If significant people,
homes and possessions disappeared or changed inexplicably in the

past, seemingly at the drop of a hat, how can they trust that people
and things will not do so now? If their own feelings, behaviours
and thinking were not ‘joined up’ how can they become coherent,
connected, confident individuals able to recognise, make sense of,
trust and build sound connections with others?
Where infants and young children face such adversity, their
state-dependent ‘wiring circuits’ remain to a greater or lesser
extent in ‘closed loops’, disconnected from each other. Moreover,
within any ‘closed circuit’ state of being, further ‘disconnections’
can occur. The acronym SEAM is useful to make sense of these
intra-state ‘loose connections’: theoretically and in practical terms
for us as therapeutic parents. SEAM refers to the Sensations,
Emotions, Actions and Mindfulness that comprise any given
state of being. Where these elements are well-enough connected,
children can feel and act in ‘joined up’ ways suited to the
conditions of that moment. They can integrate and interpret their
own body feelings, emotions and behaviour thoughtfully and
reflectively, drawing on past experience, in particular memories
that are recalled linguistically, logically and consciously. They are
able to be mindful of, to sense, empathise with, respond to and
reflect on the actions, and their perceptions, of other people.
However, children functioning predominantly out of their
bottom and mid-storey brains are frequently disconnected from
their top-storey (mindful) brain. Their memories tend to be
strongly emotionally weighted, and retrieved through sensori-
emotional, ‘body’ memories and ‘unconscious’ behavioural
responses. Removing (dissociating) Mindfulness from the SEAM
acronym leaves us, perhaps appropriately, with SEA (Sensations,
Emotions, Actions), since our children often appear ‘all at sea’:
directionless and floundering. They need us, as therapeutic parents,
to bring them ‘home and dry’, ‘stitch their SEAMs together’ and
‘join them up’.
Exploring ‘loose connections’ more closely in terms of
dissociation and applying SEAM, we can recognise the potential
for dissociative disconnections between individual elements
within a single state of being at any given moment. For example,

weak associations (‘loose connections’) within a state might
involve dissociation of sensory information both from outside
and within the body. Our children may respond confusingly
to pain and discomfort: seemingly oblivious, for example, of
accidental injuries or stomach upsets. Some also seem unable to
discriminate between major and minor hurts, or to know when
they are hungry or satiated. We can link these ‘dis-associations’
to children’s early experiences of neglect or abuse. Perhaps they
experienced unrelieved hunger or inconsistent nurturing and did
not ‘wire up’ the links between discomfort and effective relief, or
were shaken or hit by caregivers who then minimised or denied
their actions and their children’s feelings. Exposure to chronic
or repeated pain is barely tolerable at any age; in infants and
young children it is unbearable. The body responds by releasing
pain-relieving neurochemicals (endorphins) that diminish or
numb the pain. Over time this survival response can become
habitual, meaning that hurts experienced now may be ‘shut off ’
or dissociated from awareness, at least temporarily.
Applying the concept of dissociation, both inter-state and
intra-state (SEAM), helps us make sense of many situations we
experience with our children, such as their tendency to forget,
‘lose’ or ‘take’ things, find ‘telling the truth’ difficult, ignore
pain or take risks. For example, if children are in a different
behavioural or feeling state from their state of being when they
put an item down, or their conscious memory system remains
immature, they will struggle to locate items, especially under
pressure. This increases feelings of distress and shame and further
weakens inter-state recall and intra-state, mindful, connections.
Consequently their actions can appear incoherent, ‘lazy’ or
‘controlling’ and generate negative responses in us, such as
anger, rejection, powerlessness or attempts to ‘control’ them at
all costs. These responses confirm our children’s perceptions and
expectations of us as unsafe and deny them opportunities to re-
regulate, reconnect and rewire their MN circuits.
Other children may appear to have learned a particular skill,

only to act as if they do not know what to do at other times, either
because they are in a separate state of being or lack good access to
their mindful (thinking and reflecting) brain. This is often perceived
as ‘won’t do’, leading to critical remarks or irritation from others
and to children failing to learn from their experiences. Recognising
these as ‘can’t do’ situations, we can use our insight, empathy
and gentle support to encourage the strengthening of ‘loose
connections’ and promote feelings of confidence and competence
in our children. Although aggressive, oppositional-defiant, lying
and stealing and ‘shut-down’ behaviours are best understood as
part of our ‘joined up’ understanding of developmental ‘loose
connections’, we should also hold in mind the powerful feelings
they frequently provoke in us and our communities, together with
the longer-term consequences for our children’s acceptance and
wellbeing in society at large. It is therefore vital that we consider
these further. In Chapter 11, ‘The Child Within the Child’, we
discuss some of these ‘acting out’ and ‘acting in’ dynamics; we
explore the issue of ‘stealing and lying’ separately in Chapter 12,
‘Taking, Borrowing and Difficulties with the Truth’.
Summary
We have explored the effect of attachment-trauma on children’s
capacity to move ‘seamlessly’ from state to state according to
the situation at any given time and to demonstrate the ongoing
effects of weaknesses in awareness of, and access to, all ‘parts’ of
themselves on their perceptions and behaviour. We considered
how early experiences influence the degree to which integration
takes place and how many of our children lacked sufficient
opportunities to become ‘joined up’. As a consequence they
develop neurobiological ‘short circuits’ biased towards ‘bottom
up’ responses, rather than ‘top down’, mindful consideration.
Many do not develop the capacity for smooth state-to-state
changes according to circumstance and ‘swing’ abruptly from
one feeling and behavioural state to another. Moreover, within
any given state of being, children may not have full access to all
parts of that state. For example, children may ‘know’ their painful
early history and recount this as if they have no feelings about
it, yet tell us in their body movements or behaviour that they
are distressed. As for so many of our children’s developmental-
attachment difficulties, with our help and suitable therapeutic
‘knitting patterns’, we can ‘join them up’ into healthier, more
complete human beings. In turn, this helps them feel more
connected to their physical, socio-emotional and cognitive world
and hence to us, their communities and the world they inhabit.
Below we explore the basic principles through which we can
begin to unravel their muddles, identify functional ‘gaps’ and
design new and better patterns from which we can ‘knit our kids’.
Check in and check out

• Check out how we feel physically, emotionally, cognitively
at any given time and how we behave as a consequence.
Although we may recognise some ‘loose connections’ in
our make-up that make us the only-too-human beings we
are, on the whole we are probably ‘joined up’ enough to do
well in most situations.
• Identify whether, at that moment, we are functioning
primarily from our bottom, middle or top-storey brain.
• Sense whether we are breathing too quickly, feeling too
hot or cold, hungry or thirsty or ‘wobbly’.
• Explore our feelings, observing whether we are upset, angry,
powerless or scared and being consciously aware of our
thoughts and interpretations of people and circumstances.

• Use ‘top down’ awareness to notice and, where necessary,
regulate our inter-state ‘switches’.
• Encourage ‘inter-state self-talk’ between separate parts of
ourselves. If they seem at odds with each other: remember
that commonplace sayings like ‘pull yourself together’ tell
us how ‘normal’ these minor disjunctions are.
• Check out our memories to illustrate this concept: for
example, do we ‘forget’ what we went upstairs for, only
to remember again when we return to the place we started
from?
• Recognise any intra-state (SEAM) disconnections we
experience, like suddenly realising we are cold and stiff
only when we put down an enthralling book. We can then
make better sense of our children’s seemingly unfathomable
responses, or lack of response.
• Explore these ideas when we feel relaxed, so that
when stressed we can be mindful of them and respond
appropriately.

• Observe how our children ‘make’ us feel, physically and
emotionally, think and react, when we ‘tune in’ to them.
• Check ourselves out again, in case we need to re-regulate
and reconnect ourselves once more.
• Use the information we gain from ‘tuning into’ them to
work out where our children’s ‘loose connections’ lie.
• Remind ourselves of our children’s early histories to gain
insights into their disconnections and resultant behaviours.
• Integrate this awareness to identify where they most need
our help.
• Find healthy ways of connecting with our children and

‘retuning’ them to our better-regulated neurobiological
systems, to help them become more organised and
connected internally.
• Remind ourselves that we are the experts on our children
and are best placed to create the best ‘knitting patterns’ for
them.
• Be aware of potentially difficult situations and be prepared
to deal with them. Having a well-rehearsed plan can
sometimes be enough to reduce the likelihood of difficulties
arising.

We need to stay consciously aware of our own moment-to-
moment interactions. Simple actions like mentioning our state-
to-state transitions and ‘talking to ourselves’ out loud can help
children identify these inter-connections and normalise them. In
addition here are some simple things we can do on a frequent and
consistent basis:
• ‘Notice’ our children’s behaviour as a matter of course and
comment on what we see, being careful to avoid sounding
critical or as if we are making fun of them.
• ‘Notice’ our own changing states, feelings and behaviours
and verbalise these aloud, to begin to lay down ‘connections’
for our children.
• Play games that strengthen OP and OC. Building up these
linked concepts helps children ‘get’ that things and people
are always consistent whatever the situation. Not only is
this highly reassuring, it also allows them to learn that they,
too, are one and the same.
• Model ‘parts talk’. We might debate with ourselves, aloud,
what food to prepare for dinner: ‘I’d like fish pie’; ‘Well, that’s
hard work and I haven’t got time’; ‘But it’s good for us’; ‘I know, but
it’ll have to be pasta again’; ‘You’re just being lazy!’; ‘No I’m not,
I’m being realistic.’ We may find that we have already been
doing this silently and quite unconsciously.
• Demonstrate, in exaggerated ways, our own responses and
how we deal with them appropriately. If we lose something
we might shake our head in disbelief or confusion, saying
aloud ‘I feel so stupid not being able to remember’, followed by
‘Let’s see, I know I had it somewhere. Hmmm, where was I when
I put it down?’ or ‘I know, I’ll walk backwards through my mind
until I remember’ (like Big Bird in Sesame Street).
• Affirming volubly that the item will be there demonstrates
how we can change our feelings and displays confidence
that we will locate the item. This can become the ‘cement’
that begins to bind children’s developmental building
blocks together.
• Point out when, for example, the car has stalled, or it has
rained on our washing, that we are angry yet can still
maintain ‘top down’ control. We might ‘ham this up’,
saying something like: ‘Wow, my angry part was really loud
there, I’d better find my calm and sensible parts. Getting angry won’t
sort this out.’
• Remind ourselves that ‘safe’ actions, such as dancing
around, jumping up and down, or shouting loudly, burn
off the neurochemicals of over-arousal (e.g. adrenalin) and
‘get us back in balance’. That goes for our children too!
• Play games using puppets or stuffed toys. Take it in turns
to act out scenes involving a particular emotion, talking
about how it feels and how we might move to another
feeling. This allows children to explore strong feelings at a
safe distance and for us to ‘slip in some practice’ in playful
ways: always the best way to learn!
• Help our children identify pain if they seem ‘not to feel’

it. We might say ‘Ow’ for them, followed by ‘That must
have hurt, let me rub it better/put a plaster on it.’ We are
not creating hypochondriacs; rather we are joining up
sensations that have been disociated. After a period of,
perhaps intense, ‘nursing’ responses, connections will be
made between hurts and receiving comfort from us: laying
down new procedural memories (involving MN circuits)
and establishing new response patterns for our children.
• Seize ‘minor opportunities’, such as our children’s
tearfulness at breaking a favourite toy or bumping their
knee, to name aloud their sad, or upset, parts and provide
comfort to ‘help us find your happy, or comfy, parts again’.
• Validating ‘where they are coming from’ first is vital before
children can feel comforted and reassured enough to
engage with us. Until they ‘feel felt and understood’ they
cannot make changes in, and join up, the way they feel, act
and make sense of themselves.

• Take time to assess the situation and how best to approach
it.
• Consider our other children and whether they are likely
to become upset and need our help to deal with what is
going on.
• ‘Think toddler’ – working out at what age our children are
functioning at that moment, spotting the ‘loose connections’
and handling them as we would a child of that age. If in
doubt, go ‘lower and slower’.
• Speak calmly and gently and show acceptance of our
children for all of who and what they are at that moment,
staying aware that they are highly sensitive to perceived
threat or shame, or associations or memories that caused
them to dissociate initially. Remain vigilant, to avoid

inadvertently triggering further powerful, negative
responses.
• Say what we see, empathising and using ‘parts talk’ to
begin to re-regulate and reconnect our children. Even rage-
filled children can be encouraged to ‘find’ their ‘quieter’ or
‘calmer’ parts if we work with sufficient confidence. Faced
with opposition, or denial that such parts exist, we can say
with assurance: ‘I know they’re in there, because I’ve seen them.
Let’s find them together.’
• Match our communications to what we see before moving
our children ‘up’ or ‘down’ the arousal scale using ‘parts
talk’. Once in their ‘comfort zone’, they can start to join
up separate states and begin to engage their top-storey
thinking brain.
• Find ways of reconnecting with ‘zoned out’, ‘switched
off ’ children. Providing simple, loving, accepting, verbal
messages to accompany similar non-verbal messages
through our eyes, facial expressions, body language and
touch puts them ‘back in touch’ with us and with themselves.
• Extend what we have learned to other difficult situations.
Chapter 11
The Child Within

the Child
We are probably familiar with the idea of ‘getting in touch with

our inner child’: looking at the childlike qualities that become
overlaid over time as we develop into adults. Alongside the
concept of ‘loose connections’, or separate states, this will help us
consider ‘the child within the child’. Thinking about how each
of us has several ‘parts’ (Archer 1999b) and how this has filtered
into everyday speech (‘I was in two minds’, ‘I was beside myself ’,
‘He was in a state’, ‘Pull yourself together’), we have discussed
how children who faced early adversity, such as abandonment,
neglect and abuse, have insufficient opportunities to become
‘joined up’ and practise moving comfortably from state to state.
We now explore these concepts in greater detail in respect of
‘angry’, ‘oppositional’ and ‘too good’ children. Whilst we focus
on children at the ‘far end’ of the ‘loose connections’ spectrum,
most of our children struggle to some degree with these issues,
and hence every parent and child will benefit from understanding
the underlying issues and implementing the basic principles of
developmental reparenting outlined here.
It is easier to accept fear as the underlying feeling in children
presenting as vulnerable and anxious than in ‘bad’ (angry,
aggressive, destructive, oppositional) youngsters, even more so
in ‘good’ (too-good, caretaking, compliant) ones. Yet all these
179
children are equally fearful deep down: their behaviours are

adaptive, ‘trauma-normal’ responses to early adversity, usually
intra-familial maltreatment. As in every situation, we should
consider children’s actions in light of their lived experiences, to
make sense of ‘now’ in terms of ‘then’. Our children were raised in
chaotic environments where caregivers behaved in ‘out of control’
ways and provided insufficient opportunities for them to feel safe,
have their needs met, recognise and manage their feelings, feel
‘in control’, make internal and external connections, and form
healthy relationships. Children left feeling isolated, needy, scared
and helpless carry with them the perceptions, expectations and
beliefs of the ‘scared and hurting child within’ when they come
home to us. Their ‘scared, hurting child’ part may be clearly visible
to us or remain for the most part concealed under protective
layers of ‘bad’ or ‘good’, or volatile moods and behaviours. Like
Matrioshka dolls (painted wooden dolls that ‘nest’ inside each
other), there may be layers of separate states (parts) overlaying
each other that become ‘available’ to our children only in specific
circumstances, such as when we ask them to do something, rather
than readily through conscious choice.
‘Acting out’, angry and oppositional children characteristically
show us their ‘controlling’, aggressive, hurtful, awkward, stubborn
or rejecting parts, driven by the ‘fight’ survival response. Their
overt, angry or destructive behaviours evolved, unconsciously,
to provide a sense of control over their terrifying, unpredictable
lives: often mimicking the hurtful, powerful figures in their early
lives. The predominant survival response of other children is
‘flight’: we might see active ‘running away’, or a tendency to keep
to themselves and avoid interactions with us, perhaps through
excessive TV watching or computer playing, ‘sulking’, sullenness
or self-harm. They, too, are driven by fear, the need to gain a
sense of control over the frightening, incomprehensible world
they perceive and are desperately trying to get their needs met,
unsure that we can be there for them.
These ‘bad’ parts help children manage their fear of rejection
by making the ‘inevitable’ happen ‘their way’, by acting as ‘bad’
The Child Within the Child 181
as they feel, or by rejecting us first. For both ‘fight’ and ‘flight’

groups their ‘bad’ parts predominate in their relationships with
us although they may present their more pleasant or vulnerable
sides to extended family members, friends, teachers or social
workers. At times we, too, can glimpse our children’s ‘better sides’:
invaluable in helping us recall that ‘every child has a silver lining’
and encouraging us to find their ‘hidden parts within’ during
challenging times. We must remind ourselves that ‘acting out’
children should not be blamed for their ‘anti-social’ behaviour
and need to feel accepted for all of themselves, yet we ignore
their emotionally driven behavioural language at our peril.
‘Acting in’, good children tend to ignore or over-ride their own
needs and feelings, attempting to control their environment by
being ‘good’ (for example, smiling, being helpful, endeavouring
to be obedient, or giving into siblings and peers). We may only
occasionally see the ‘scared, hurting child within’ or recognise
their overwhelming feelings of fear and helplessness and how
unlovable they feel. Understandably we feel delighted that we
have such ‘lovely’ children and are likely to praise them directly
and sing their praises to others. On the other hand, when they
do ‘slip out of character’, becoming angry or ‘difficult’, we may
show we are disappointed in them, or shocked at their behaviour.
Responding in these ways reinforces our children’s world view
that they are only acceptable when they are ‘good’, yet their
deepest, unspoken fear is that if we only knew what they were
really like we would reject them. Indeed our caregiving and praise
are likely to make them more fearful of eventual hurts and losses,
since to them it is so patently ‘false’. ‘Good’ children’s occasional
lapses in ‘self-control’ reinforce this perspective: since it is the
‘scared, hurting and “bad” child within the child’ that is actually
in control.
At times both ‘acting out’ and ‘acting in’ children may also
show the ‘freeze’ behaviours they evolved to stay safe when they
experienced terror, abandonment, helplessness and hopelessness.
Some children ‘go quiet’, repeat actions over and over, twirl
around, doodle obsessively, stare into space, or hurt themselves
seemingly without feeling pain; others may ‘go off on one’ or

‘trash their rooms’. The behavioural messages are the same: they
need help to ‘reconnect’ from their dissociative states and ‘find
themselves again’. Tempting as it is to ‘leave them to get over it’,
we need to take the initiative and find ways of getting in touch
with our children, if not physically then emotionally and verbally.
If we imagine them in a ‘sensori-emotional bubble’, our aim is
to join them in their ‘bubble state’ rather than waiting for it to
deflate over time, or trying to puncture it. Remaining mindful
of the ‘scared, hurting child within’ and demonstrating through
our non-verbal and verbalised behaviour that we are ‘with them’
(and they with us/held in mind), we begin to rewire both their
MN circuits and their ‘loose connections’. Our attempts to get
in touch with, and accept, ‘all of them’ allow our children to
be aware of, and gain top-down control over, all of themselves
‘good’, ‘bad’ and ‘indifferent’, reinforcing OSC .
Managing the ‘bad’ aggressive child

It is never too early to begin helping our children develop healthier
ways of relating to themselves and to us. Toddlers who hit us or
their siblings need just as clear messages that this is unacceptable
as older children. Too often we find ways of managing our
children’s behaviour, particularly when young, by dismissing it
as a ‘phase’, or ‘ignoring the negatives’ and ‘accentuating the
positives’. We may speak of children ‘having a wobbly’, or ‘losing
it’ when they punch, kick or threaten us, trying to reduce the fear
we would feel if we ‘saw’ their behaviour for what it is, or could
become, and the impact it would have on the sense of wellbeing
within our family homes. As our children, and the actual threat,
grow we may feel ashamed of our vulnerability and helplessness
to control them. Recognising early on that by ‘doing nothing’
we allow our children to practise being violent and abusive and
to become more ‘stuck’ in destructive states of being leaves us
better placed to help them develop healthier ways of knowing,
and dealing with, their feeling and ‘doing’ states.
Aggressive children feel neither safe nor powerful, coming as

they do from their ‘bad’ self-image, so the more we respond with
understanding and firmness, creating opportunities for them to find
other parts of themselves and practise ‘state shifts’, the healthier
and safer they, and our families, become. Acknowledging, but not
accepting, children’s anti-social behaviour may feel like rejecting
them, since it conflicts with the positive, loving messages we wish
to give. However, the opposite is true: loving parents provide safety,
co-regulation and containment (nurture and structure) for their
children. The secure base (and OP) we create forms the platform
from which we can encourage them to explore their inner and outer
worlds. We can help them ‘find’ their ‘silver lining’ parts, allowing
them to see beyond their ‘protective shells’, and practise being all
of themselves: including ‘bad’ and ‘good’ (OSC).
Some of us feel that living with angry children is like existing
in a state of war: a war zone that nobody else sees; moreover, we
feel we should present our family situation as a state of peace.
Here, we are ourselves developing a dissociative response that
‘normalises’ our children’s behaviour and allows us, in periods
of relative calm, to deny the reality that this ‘peace’ is only a
‘temporary ceasefire’. We can liken this to the impact of early
maltreatment on our children. Like them, the ‘flight’ response
often feels unavailable: it would mean giving up on our children,
distancing ourselves from them, or drifting into depression. We
know the ‘fight’ response, in which we might respond to our
children’s behaviour with shouting or smacking, is unacceptable,
yet we can occasionally ‘lose it’, or take it out on ourselves or
others. Frequently the ‘freeze’ response may seem the only viable
alternative.
Often we come to fear our children’s aggression but, being
unable to articulate it, protect ourselves from further abuse or
share this with others, we learn to ‘switch off ’ (dissociate). We
may appear flat and emotionless, or ‘put on our happy face’
and laugh at situations most people would find frightening.
We may feel that we provoked the situation, that it was ‘our
fault’, or feel blamed by other people, even within our families.
Our sense of shame compounds our feelings of isolation,

helplessness and lack of self-worth, mirroring and reinforcing
our children’s feelings and their need to feel ‘in control’ . It
is then hard for us to remember that ‘Oppression dehumanises
the oppressor as it hurts the oppressed’ (Mandela 2006) and take
positive steps to bring about positive changes.
Abused children feel they have no-one to talk to and often
lack the language to articulate what is happening to them. They
believe the abuse occurred because they were ‘bad babies’ or
‘bad children’. They gave up trying to make sense of a world
that was confusing and frightening, retreating into their own,
more bearable, world. As parents we may respond in similar ways,
particularly if we have histories of childhood neglect or abuse and
have a heightened propensity for dissociation and self-blame. We
may become ‘stuck’ in a ‘helpless child’ state, finding it difficult
to shift to a more comfortable and ‘adult’ state of being where we
could provide our children with the support and guidance they
need. On the other hand, if we have explored these issues, our
early experiences can give us greater insights into our children’s
inner world and let us ‘hear’ what is really happening. We can
then provide ‘good’ role models and help them manage their ‘bad
child’ within. Although our angry and aggressive children are
likely to be operating from brainstem mode where words are not
effective, they do need clear messages that violence is never OK,
alongside suggestions for expressing anger in more appropriate
ways. So, once we have provided safe containment, we can create
‘time to talk’ and look at these issues with them more fully.
Managing the ‘bad’ oppositional child

A common response to lack of respect, stubbornness, opposition
or sulking is for us to try to impose our will on our children. After
all, we were probably respectful and obedient to the adults in our
lives and felt ‘bad’ if we failed to live up to their, or our own,
expectations. If our reality as parents is very different we may find
it hard to act as ‘grown-ups’ and maintain ‘top down’ controls.
Conversely, if we went through a period of rebellion in our teens,

we may feel ‘it did me no harm’ and fail to recognise the real
differences in frequency, intensity, duration and meaning of our
children’s challenging behaviour. Moreover, they may be pleasant
and co-operative with other people, increasing our frustration,
‘stuck-ness’ and self-blame. Sadly, responding in ways that mirror
our children’s powerful ‘bad’ self-states reinforces their fears,
increases their attempts to feel in control, and perpetuates their
unhelpful survival responses. Furthermore we are not in a fit state
to engage with them, help them move into more regulated states,
or practise new ways of being.
Conversely we may respond by letting unacceptable behaviours
pass over us. This dissociative response brings temporary peace of
mind but denies both our own and our children’s reality. Acting
as if everything is fine may convince others and ourselves (albeit
temporarily) but does nothing to convince our children of the need
to change if they are to become acceptable members of society. It
is vital we find ways of altering our own self-state, as a powerful
role model to our children, and creating endless opportunities to
set them up to succeed. Once we return to our adult state we can
begin to work out which ‘storey’ our children are ‘coming from’,
and at what age they are functioning, and respond accordingly .
We would not ask toddlers to tidy their rooms single-handed:
nor should we expect co-operation from children in their ‘baby’
or ‘toddler’ states, or who have ‘zoned out’ and have little access
to their thinking brain.
Alongside their profound sense of being ‘bad’ our children are
terrified of making mistakes since they feel they are ‘mistakes’:
this can immediately plunge them into shame. Often they would
rather face criticism and anger (responses with which they are
only too familiar) by making no attempt to comply than try and
fail. Here we might respond to our school-age children by saying
‘I can see you’re finding this hard right now – let’s leave it until
later’ or offer to ‘do it together, bit by bit’. At times we may feel
discretion is the better part of valour and suggest without sarcasm
or implied criticism that our children carry on doing what they
are doing, or are likely to do (and if it looks like fun, join them).
By creating these ‘win-win’ situations we encourage children to
feel better about themselves, if only for that moment: helping
them to see themselves as more than their ‘bad child within’.
Managing the ‘too good’ child

If ‘bad’ children tend to make us feel ‘bad’, ‘good’ children tend
to make us feel ‘good’. We feel comfortable that our homes feel
safe for our children and we are making a difference to their once
troubled lives. The last thing we wish to consider is that they are
being ‘too good for their own good’. Yet, if our children have
experienced poor early caregiving, they are unlikely to be acting
from a ‘good’ place: instead they are terrified of being seen as
the ‘bad’ children they believe themselves to be. They need our
help to get in touch with all of themselves, to feel that their ‘bad
child within’ is just as much part of them, yet not all of them, as
their ‘acting good’ selves. They also need acceptance and support
to handle making mistakes without ‘being a mistake’, since if we
cannot connect (‘associate’) with our children’s less acceptable
parts we perpetuate their inner sense of worthlessness and their
tendency to dissociate.
As with parenting ‘bad’ children, if as children we were
neglected or abused, we will have developed strategies that
helped us survive. Many of us will have a strongly developed
‘good child within’, people who choose to be kind, pleasing and
take care of others, and put ourselves last. If we have not been
able to get in touch with our ‘dark’ side we mirror our ‘too good’
children’s world view and may respond negatively to any hints
of ‘bad’ behaviour. We are unlikely to find it easy to accept that
we should encourage our children to practise being ‘naughty’ or
model such behaviour ourselves. However, if we have worked on
our issues we will know that they need our ‘permission’ to be all
of themselves: to choose to be ‘good’ rather than to feel they must
do so at all costs.
Talking to their ‘selves’

Below we provide some suggestions for ‘getting in touch with’
our children’s ‘bad’ and ‘too good’ parts. We discussed talking in
more detail in Chapter 9, ‘Talking, Telling, Timing’, suggesting
that it is generally more helpful to delay discussions until ‘things
have calmed down’. However, the suggestions below are an
exception to the rule, since they are designed to help children
move into more comfortable states as soon as possible and build
OC. Before we begin we should first revisit the ‘Check in and
check out’ section in Chapter 10, ‘Loose Connections’, to get
ourselves ‘in a fit state’ to provide the therapeutic parenting our
children need (see pp.167–178).
Angry and oppositional children

It helps to prepare and practise simple, affirming comments we
can make to our children when they, and we, are stressed or in
danger of ‘getting in a state’. Once familiar with them, we can use
them with confidence in many situations.
• ‘I know it’s hard when I say “no” and you’re showing me this by
swearing at/punching me. In our family we try to work things out
without hurting each other. I guess we all need more practice.’
• ‘We want this house to feel safe for all of us and show our anger in
ways so people don’t get hurt. So let’s both try jumping up and down
and shouting “I DON’T LIKE THIS”.’
• ‘I love you too much to let you go on practising the angry ways
people showed their feelings in your birth family.’
‘I b~~~~~ love you’, shouted at the top of our voice, with a
big grin on our face, can also get in touch with many ‘out of it’
children: it meets them ‘where they are’ and helps us reconnect
and re-regulate. Using ‘parts talk’ (Bomber 2007; van Gulden
2010) we might say: ‘Wow! Your angry/stubborn part(s) are really
loud today. Let’s find your “quiet/gentle” part(s) and give them a chance
too.’ (For younger children it may feel right to playfully ‘search’
their bodies for the ‘missing’ states.) We should also validate why
children’s defensive states came into being: ‘I know it helped you
feel safe/in control to get angry/refuse to co-operate when you were little.
Now maybe we can practise letting other parts of you take safe control.’
Often children’s ‘good’ parts are vehemently denied (beware
of using the terms ‘good’/‘bad’ directly at all costs). We could
say: ‘I know they’re there, I’ve seen them before. You remember when…?’
This can be amazingly effective in moving children from one state
to another, particularly if accompanied by mobile phone photos
of ‘good times’.
We can often use playfulness and humour to bring children
back into their bodies (‘I do exist’) and then move them into
more acceptable and comfortable states, almost without them
noticing. Asking angry or oppositional children to ‘have a minute
of swearing’ is, counter-intuitively, a great ‘state-shifter’. In fact
children tend to run out of ‘rude words’ quite soon and collapse
into giggles. In parallel with ‘defusing’ stressful situations, using
‘play’ neurobiological circuits to replace ‘fear’ circuits encourages
valuable ‘rewiring’ and begins to alter MN circuits.
Examples of an anger contract outlining family rules and
expectations and a poster showing ways of handling feelings (the
‘Muir Family Plan’) for display in prominent (but discreet) places
can be found in Appendix 1. These can provide ‘concrete’ ways
of reminding our children how to recognise and cope with their
angry feelings.
While we do not advocate ‘time out’ for our children, we may
need to reinforce the message that we are not prepared to be
victims by removing ourselves from our children if remaining
with them will lead to physical aggression. Conversely we do
advocate the judicious use of ‘parental time out’ using such
phrases as: ‘I need to get myself together again, so I’m going to my room.
I’ll be back as soon as I’ve calmed down so that I can help you calm down
too.’ This is not rejecting our children; it is rejecting behaviour
that is not helpful for them to demonstrate while modelling good
self-regulation and ‘state shifting’ and also keeping ourselves safe.

However, wherever possible, taking safe control immediately is
more preferable – particularly for younger children.
‘Good’ children
The essence of developing ‘all of ’ good children is to create
opportunities for them to ‘dare’ to be ‘naughty’ and ‘make
mistakes’. Whilst this can, and should, be great fun for all
concerned, it requires preparation and practice. We need to find
ways of ‘slipping up’ ourselves in humorous ways, role-modelling
for our children how to handle these without ‘falling apart’. We
might pretend to pick up the ‘wrong keys’ or pass the cereal
when asked for milk. We can then allow our children to draw our
attention to this ‘silly mistake’ and then look dismayed, burst into
mock tears or apologise dramatically. Similarly when we do ‘mess
up’ we can ‘retrieve’ the situation by ‘hamming up’ our dismay
and giggling at ourselves. Few children can resist the invitation
to join in!
We might try saying something like ‘Oh, no! I’ve spilled the milk!
What am I going to do? What a wally!’, then immediately follow this
with a change of outlook: ‘Never mind. I’ll get the sponge and mop it
up. No worries!’ or ‘What a silly billy I am. All fingers and thumbs. I need
some help to do this properly.’
Since ‘good’ children often see us as all-powerful and all-
knowing they will ‘hear’ that ‘nobody is perfect’, encouraging
them to accept that they too only have to be ‘good enough’. If it
feels appropriate, we can also provide them with opportunities to
step in and help us, connecting them to their ‘capable’ parts and
further boosting their self-esteem.
It is essential, and potentially even greater fun, to play at being
‘naughty’ together. We might start by recounting some of our
childish misdemeanours with relish. Again this runs counter to
‘good’ children’s perceptions of us, giving them tacit permission
to think or act that way too and developing OC. Having set the
scene we can encourage our children to try ‘rehearsing naughty
roles’ together. Initially, dressing for the part can make this feel
‘safer’. We might:
• grab a set of ‘devil’s horns’, saying ‘Come on! Let’s be little
devils, throw these cushions on the floor and jump on them!’
• go out in the garden clad in waterproofs, shouting ‘I feel like
being wicked just now, let’s have a water fight!’
• put on aprons and conspire to set the table together,
placing a jumping plastic frog on the seat of a grown-up
(not another child), saying ‘Tee-hee. This’ll be fun. Daddy/
Mummy/Granny will be surprised!’
• seize a hat and shout ‘Let’s pretend to be cheeky monkeys’, with
full-on monkey sounds and actions
• have an ‘untidy’ day tearing up newspapers with our
children and throwing them around the room, shouting
‘Wow, isn’t this fun?’ Later we can have fun tidying up
together.
Gradually we can ‘move into reality’ and extend our repertoire,
asking for suggestions from our children and celebrating their
mischievousness. We can also:
• greet our children warmly, saying ‘How’s my little imp today?’
or playfully asking ‘And just what have you been up to today?’
• invite ‘good’ children to ‘let your “naughty” part come out to
play’ – and playfully prod them as if searching them for it
(if this feels safe and appropriate)
• make sure we welcome any spontaneous ‘wicked’ acts with
glee, perhaps saying ‘Wow! I’m proud of you. It took some
courage to show me your mischievous/“wicked”/cheeky part. I hope
you’re proud too!’
Family, friends and school staff are often happy to be co-opted into
becoming excited when they see spontaneous ‘misdemeanours’,
once they understand the reasoning. We need not fear that ‘too
good’ children will suddenly become ‘bad’; they do, however,
need endless opportunities to be, and feel accepted for, all of
themselves. Only then can they ‘act naturally’, make real choices
in their responses and develop relationships based on equality.
Useful slogans to display at home

• Every child has a silver lining.
• Mistakes are nature’s way of helping us to learn.
• Nobody’s perfect – thank goodness!
• Good enough is good enough for me.
• In our family everyone is OK, even if they don’t always act
that way.
• All of me loves all of you.
Chapter 12
Taking, Borrowing
and Difficulties
with the Truth
‘Stealing’ and ‘lying’ are amongst the most difficult behaviours we

have to deal with; understandably tending to push most parents’
buttons. They frequently feel more incomprehensible than other
behaviours and may persist for longer; often our children take
things they do not need and their ‘crazy lying’ appears more
inclined to get them into trouble than out of it. They are certainly
issues that can be highly emotive and provoke almost universal
disapproval.
For therapeutic parents, the first step is what should now be
‘the old familiar story’: we need to explore the origins of these
‘anti-social’ behaviours and understand them in terms of survival
strategies relating to our children’s early trauma histories. We are
likely to have quite different relationships to ‘stealing’ and ‘lying’
from our children’s, and it is vital we recall that we can best
understand their behavioural language through their ‘historical
dictionary’. Abused children may learn that ‘truth does not pay’
and ‘it’s every man for himself ’: their relationship to ‘the truth’ is
therefore tenuous and egocentric. Children who suffered neglect,
unsure as to when or where their next meal would appear, may be
192
Taking, Borrowing and Difficulties with the Truth 193
driven to scrounge and hoard food to survive, affecting how they

relate to foodstuffs years after the actual need has passed.
Since food is such a potent driver here, we begin by exploring
these issues in terms of our SEAM acronym, alongside our usual
bottom-up approach. In their early lives, sensations (bottom
storey) dominate infants’ lives; they underpin their relationships
with their inner and outer worlds: the Sensation of hunger then
informs their behaviour (Actions), mediated by Emotions (mid-
storey functions). Where caregivers fail to meet their needs,
powerful negative feelings (E), such as fear, helplessness and
abandonment, become ‘hardwired’ to children’s bodily feelings
(S) of hunger. Consequently the behaviours (A) that are triggered
also become ‘hardwired’ into their developing neurobiological
systems. If their ‘survival’ strategies, however apparently bizarre,
had not been effective, our children would not be here now,
showing and telling us what they need through their current
behaviour. It is only through being mindful of and addressing
their sensory, emotional and behavioural needs that we can
‘rewire’ their bottom and middle storeys and connect them
up to their top-storey thinking brains to reflect on and moderate
their responses (Mindfulness).
Bear in mind, too, that existing traumatic hardwiring means
that any part of a single element (S, E or A) can trigger hot-wired
connections to any other element. So, for example, if our children
feel mildly hungry on waking during the night and have no idea
how long it will be until breakfast, they may panic, go onto ‘auto-
pilot’ (bottom and middle-storey responses) and head downstairs
to raid the fridge. Although at other times they are aware that
they should ask before helping themselves, at that moment, in
that particular state, they cannot reflect and make good choices.
Nightly reminders are unlikely to alter this pattern, nor are
morning ‘naggings’. However, talking over the underlying issues
and agreeing to leave a reliable supply of simple, sustaining food,
such as bread or bananas (serotonin rich), can gradually resolve
the problem at every level.
Moving on, sweet foods like chocolate and sugary drinks may
have helped our children manage abuse and feelings of rejection
and shame. Caregivers may have offered sweets after physically or
sexually abusing them as ‘rewards’ for not telling and, perhaps, to
make themselves feel better. Chaotic parents often use both ‘carrot’
and ‘stick’ to try to control their children’s behaviour: though the
‘carrots’ are usually sweet and sticky. Where early connections
between feeding (milk sugars), comfort and cuddles were poor,
sensori-emotional links to ‘good’ foods are likely to be weak and
those to ‘bad’ comfort foods strengthened. Since sweet, fat and
sugar-laden foods then became associated with feeling less bad
both physically and emotionally, albeit temporarily, our children
learn to ‘self-medicate’ in the absence of ‘benefactors’. With these
kinds of histories children can view food as ‘compensation’,
feeling a sense of betrayal if denied unlimited access to sweet
foods by ‘good enough’ parents trying to encourage healthy
eating; others learn to ‘act up’ in expectation of bribes to ‘be
good’. From their perspective, borne out by their distorted MN
circuits, we become the ‘bad guys’ depriving them of their basic
rights and needs. No surprise then that ‘stealing’ food is likely to
be a big issue in our families and that the preferred food tends to
be calorific and sugary.
As children we were probably told that we could only have
pudding if we ate our dinner: old habits die hard and many of
us hear ourselves saying this to this day, reinforcing the message
that sweet food is a reward! Furthermore, sweet foods have strong
social connotations. Our culture promotes customs such as giving
chocolates, sweet foods and, later, alcohol (also sugar-based),
not only as rewards or signs of affection but also as solace when
things feel bad; TV ‘soaps’ and adverts make heavy use of this. We
tend to use sweet things as terms of endearment, such as ‘honey’,
‘sugar’ and ‘sweetie’, reinforcing our concept of sweet items as
the ultimate ‘comfort foods’. Clearly we must also bear in mind
society’s, alongside our own, relationship to food if we are to
help our children change theirs.
Taking all of these issues into consideration we need to work

hard to help our children build up sensori-emotional connections
between sustenance and nurture by creating numerous
opportunities linking shared cuddles and positive experiences with
sweet things: recognising that ‘sharing and pairing’ experiences
make all the difference, we can remind ourselves that ‘a little of
what we fancy does us (all) good’, whilst total abstinence can
increase cravings and feelings of deprivation. If we feel we need
an ‘excuse’, what better than ‘because it’s Tuesday’?!
Turning to ‘lying’, this, too, emanates from our children’s
histories, as a survival tool they continue to use when no
longer needed. Avoiding overwhelming shame reactions is a
potent reason for lying when confronted . This is central to
our therapeutic reparenting approach. As discussed earlier, our
children see themselves as innately ‘bad’ and responsible for their
maltreatment. This can seem a ‘safer’ option to children than
accepting that, as victims of abuse or neglect, they were helpless
to alter events or relinquishing the belief that their parents were
loving and ‘there for them’. Making themselves key players it
may feel possible, by becoming ‘good’, to stop the maltreatment
and make their caregivers love them. Their survival strategy of
accepting the blame, in order to reduce their terror, means our
children have already had a great deal of practice in ‘lying to
themselves’ (dissociation). Furthermore, abusers often deny
their abusive behaviour, providing unhealthy role models and
simultaneously denying children opportunities to explore their
lived reality. ‘Buying into’ the lies of their abusers both increases
children’s illusory feelings of safety and the dissociation between
what is done and what is said. Placed in such situations repeatedly
it becomes difficult for children to distinguish truth from fiction,
making our exhortations to ‘tell the truth’ well-nigh impossible.
Children learn to define themselves in terms of their
behaviour. Rather than seeing themselves as essentially ‘good
children’ who sometimes behave in inappropriate ways, our
children define themselves as ‘bad children’ whose behaviour
defines their essential being: ‘what they do is who they are’.
Thus when asked why they stole a sweet (doing something ‘bad’) our
children ‘hear’ us saying they are ‘bad’ children (being something
‘bad’). Therefore, whilst the feelings aroused in children raised in
good enough families, on being confronted with bad behaviour,
is guilt, the feeling aroused in our children is shame (mid-
storey response). Such feelings overwhelm children’s capacity
to discuss their behaviour and resolve it (top-storey function):
instead they defend against this overwhelming emotion through
denial or fabrication. To do otherwise would mean confirming
their essential badness; telling the truth would place them in a
psychologically unbearable position. Since society’s stance is that
telling the truth defines ‘good children’ and lying defines ‘bad
children’, an admission of stealing raises a paradox: do the right
thing and portray ourselves as ‘bad’, or lie or dissemble to appear
‘good’. This is not easy for any of us to cope with, even if we can
reflect on the conflict and find ways of rationalising it.
For example, being aware of convention, we might eat and
praise our host’s food even when it is mediocre or worse: not to
do so would be rude and embarrassing. However, if the chicken
piece we are given appears uncooked, we face a dilemma. We
could choose to make an excuse (lie), such as saying we have
toothache, or to eat around the chicken and hope our host will
not notice (dissemble). Conversely we could choose to ‘do the
right thing’ and put ourselves at risk. Not an easy choice! There
is a way out of this for us, if we dare to be honest, since we might
expect our host to react reasonably. For our children there is no
such expectation of adults.
It is clear also that MN circuits play a big part in the way
children respond to ‘confrontations’ with us. We may merely be
asking about a situation we want clarified and about which we
feel mild frustration; our children may interpret our approach
as indicating anger and our intentions as potentially abusive,
neglectful or rejecting. Confronted with these fears, children’s
only recourse may be to deny, act dumb or prevaricate.
There can also be an element of feeling ‘in control’ implicit
in ‘stealing’ and ‘lying’ behaviours. ‘Knowledge is power’, and
if children believe they know something that we do not (having

poorly developed ‘mindreading’ capacities) they may feel less
powerless and less vulnerable. Here, subtly letting children know
that ‘we know what they know but are not saying’ avoids direct
confrontations yet challenges their assumptions. Furthermore, by
school age, children have ‘practised’ effective ways of ‘controlling’
the emotional environment, our responses and hence their lives
using their ‘learned survival skills’. Acting in ways that are
likely to lead to anger and confrontation provides a feeling of
inappropriate control: control that we can help them relinquish
by reacting to their behaviour with understanding and empathy.
Difficulties with OP and OC also play a vital role in our
children’s ability to acknowledge the reality of their behaviour.
If they have not fully learned that items exist when they cannot
see, touch or smell them (OP), then what does it matter if an
orange goes missing? It is only to be expected. Furthermore, as
a consequence of poor OP, children have poorly developed OC
and may struggle to recognise that the orange that was in the fruit
bowl is the same orange they took and ate; nor can ‘they know
that we know’ any different. This is central to our understanding
of our children’s ‘lying’ and ‘stealing’. Integration of all of
ourselves is the last step in the development of OSC and hence
a global sense of, and control over, self. Although our children
will usually have some awareness of ‘what I did this morning’, it
is not as ‘hardwired’ as it is in us. Intra-state (SEAM) connections
may be weak and inter-state links more so. For example, it may
not ‘feel’ (in Sensori-Emotional terms) like ‘I took the orange’, so
that links to the behaviour (A) ‘taking the orange’ and its recall
become tenuous. Simply put, ‘it wasn’t the same “me” then as
it is now’. It is up to us to ‘let children know what they don’t
yet know’, challenging their perceptions as we would a toddler,
gently but firmly, to avoid catapulting them into further denial,
humiliation or shame.
We are all familiar with toddlers who clutch their ‘blankie’ at
all costs when they are under stress, in even temporary separations.
Gradually, as they learn to ‘take us with them in their heads’, they
begin to let these TOs go. Children who have not ‘internalised’
their caregivers as their secure base still need these tangible aids to
OP: it therefore makes sense that many of our children ‘borrow’
items of ours to keep as permanent reminders of us. Alternatively,
some children unconsciously learn to substitute material items for
positive relationships with caregivers who were not consistently
available. In this instance they may be more likely to take money,
small electronic items such as ipods or mobile phones, or foods
that ‘fill them up’ physically if not emotionally. For some children
‘taking’ not only allows them to carry us, and ‘home’, with them
when they are away from us, they may unconsciously be willing us
to carry them in our heads: searching for our purse or car keys we
cannot forget the putative ‘taker’. Seen in this light, ‘borrowing’
can be seen as a sign of our children’s growing attachment to us!
Relevant too are the disconnections in children’s perceptions
of themselves and others. To make sense of a mother who seemed
alternately scared and scary, who would meet their needs sometimes
yet become abusive and neglectful at others is distressing. Often
children cannot accept that these two aspects represent one and
the same ‘mummy’ (OC) . Hence they cannot hold in mind,
on (mis)perceiving our anger or disappointment, that we are
usually loving and accepting of them. They must respond to the
‘angry mummy’ they see by reverting to (bottom and mid-storey)
strategies they learned to manage their early abuse and neglect,
not the ‘loving mummy’ we are usually and will soon be again.
Many of these behaviours cause huge problems at school and
in peer relationships. Implicit in children’s friendship is the ability
to trust their pals and know they will not let them down. Children
who ‘steal’ or ‘lie’ unwittingly sabotage the very friendships they
are desperately trying to build. For others, the ‘taking’ is merely a
precursor to the ‘giving’ they believe will ‘buy’ them friendships
and make them liked. Teachers often become frustrated and
angry with children who ‘lie’ and ‘steal’ because it threatens
the safety and atmosphere in the classroom. It not only affects
the other children, it may also mean imposing rigid rules about
possessions that disrupt the ‘flow’ of the class and dealing with
irate parents complaining about losses or demanding punishments

for the perpetrators.
We should remind ourselves that children who ‘steal’ and ‘lie’
are not happy children: they are ‘coming from their scared child
within’ (bottom and mid-storey). We must therefore consider
how best to help them address the issues underlying their need
to ‘steal’ and ‘lie’, make family life easier and help our children
manage life better socially. However, before addressing what
‘stealing’ and ‘lying’ mean to our children, we should reflect on
what they mean to us. What messages were we given as children
about these issues? Were we taught that stealing was wrong and
that lying about misdemeanours compounded the ‘crime’: that
lying was worse than our original action? If we had good enough
parents these messages were not followed by dire consequences
and hence we had no need to practise ‘lying’ or ‘stealing’ as
survival strategies, a very different experience to our children’s. It
would be helpful to write down the messages we internalised as
children to highlight these differences.
Earlier we explored how our children’s histories informed
what they internalised about stealing and lying. Setting down
these messages alongside ours allows us to think about how we
might have felt living our children’s lives. It allows us to consider
the differences between our ‘dictionary’ of stealing and lying
and our children’s, which in turn helps us put ourselves in our
children’s shoes and find effective ways to help them.
Becomingly consciously aware (top-storey function) of the
differences reduces our feelings of anger and frustration (mid-
storey) about their behaviour. It allows us to empathise openly
with them, and encourages them to begin to develop empathy for,
and accept, all of themselves. When our children are more able
to make sense of their actions (top storey) we can work together
to make real changes, beginning with their innermost beliefs.
Continuing our food example, they can begin to comprehend
what happened to them that made them feel and react in certain
ways and why they still feel and do these things now. Gradually
with our support and lots of practice at times when they can
manage this (see Chapter 9) they can learn that they are now
safe and that food will always be readily available. Although this
may appear like ‘top down’ work, it is actually working upwards
from the ‘basement’, identifying the Sensations and feelings (E)
that drive their Actions. Once these become better regulated
(through us) our children can better regulate them for themselves
and develop ‘top down’, self-limiting, conscious controls (M). For
example, we might say:
‘I know when you lived in your birth family you were hungry
at times and had to take food for yourself and your sister. You
did really well to take care of both of you. I guess it’s hard to
know that in this house you don’t need to take food to make sure
you’re fed. Let’s think about ways I can help you know this. I
know this’ll be hard but together we can do things differently.’
Engaging our children in working out ways to help them can
be very positive. It implies that, with our support, things can
change. Giving messages that we know it will be hard implies
that we do not expect instant results and that they are likely to
make mistakes. We can then empathise with their difficulties
when they ‘mess up’ and praise them when they succeed. (Self-
congratulation is allowed too!) The emphasis on praise, rather
than failure, is vital because not ‘lying’ or ‘stealing’ are acts of
omission rather than commission and it is often easier to notice ‘slip-
ups’ than achievements. Yet children learn better from success than
failure, so we must create, and stay alert for, every opportunity to
offer congratulations. Perhaps we could add a reminder to our
mobile phone to alert us several times each day to make and take
every chance we can. Using texts to pass on our messages to our
children can also prove invaluable!
Finding opportunities to praise our children is also important
to begin altering their perspective of themselves as ‘bad’. For
best effect the praise needs to be for specific behaviours and
immediate, rather than broad statements about how good they
are or hours after the event. Global statements are often too much
for children with low self-esteem since they are at odds with their
self-perceptions. Delays attenuate the perceived links between
‘then’ and ‘now’ and cause and effect, and can lose their meaning
and the impetus for change. Instead we should offer specific,
targeted praise such as:
‘Wow! That biscuit is still on the table. That must have been
hard for you. Good job!’
‘You came home and told me you’d left your gym kit behind.
No problem – we can pick it up tomorrow. Well remembered!’
We can make our jobs much simpler by setting our children up
to succeed:
‘When I asked you if the sun was shining you said “yes”.
Thanks for being honest.’
(Although even this could ‘fail’ sometimes with children in
‘stroppy’ moods.)
‘I noticed you walked past that carrot without eating it. Well
done!’
(This is much easier if they do not like carrots and we know it.)
It implies that we would expect the carrot to be where it was left,
enhancing OP.
Creating opportunities to praise our children for not ‘stealing’
or ‘lying’ simultaneously helps with issues of self-esteem and
family harmony: two for the price of one! Conversely we may
notice that our children’s ‘lying’ and ‘stealing’ increase at times
when there are other family stresses. We can then use their
behaviours as barometers to their inner world and help them do
likewise:
‘I’ve noticed you struggle with lying and stealing when you
don’t feel good about yourself or when you don’t feel safe. Well
done for showing me that. Perhaps we can figure out why you’re
feeling bad about yourself/wobbly today?’
Our increasing awareness of MN systems provides us with

invaluable insights into how we need to express ourselves when
we raise difficult issues like ‘lying’ or ‘stealing’. While anger and
frustration is understandable, tackling incidents when we are
angry (mid-storey response) is not the best approach. Not only
are our children triggered by quite minor stimuli, they are also
doing the best they can to show us what they need. Finding ways
of dealing with our feelings before tackling an issue is vital. We
do not need to deal with a ‘stolen biscuit’ immediately. We may
need first to ‘phone a friend’ or have a cup of coffee, allowing us
to feel calmer and more reflective (top storey). In much the same
way we can take time to ‘rant, relax and work out an appropriate
response’ if we discover items have gone missing whilst our child
is out. Acknowledging (and expressing) our feelings to ourselves
is a vital first step towards us ‘getting it right’; we will also be in
a better position to acknowledge these honestly to our children
too, to minimise fear-based MN firing.
‘We need to talk about something we both find difficult.
You might think I look annoyed. I hope you’re beginning to
remember that my being annoyed doesn’t mean I’ll hurt you.
Let’s give it a go!’
‘I know it’ll be hard for you to hear this. So first I want to tell
you I love you, even when I don’t like your behaviour. I guess
that’s hard for you to remember if you think I’m angry. We
both need more practice at this. Let’s have a big hug first.’
We discussed OP earlier and gave an example of how we can
strengthen ‘loose connections’. We also explored how poor OC
can lead to our children denying the obvious, such as those tell-
tale biscuit crumbs. We can often use humour to ‘let our children
know that we know’ that these are intrinsically linked and can ‘tell
us the story’. With practice our children can then learn to make
these vital links for themselves and create their own coherent
narratives. We might say:
‘Hmmm! Bring me my magnifying glass Watson. Ah yes! These

crumbs look/taste/smell like the ones in the tin. Interesting…
I wonder…?’
Or adopt the ‘Inspector Clouseau’ approach: making ourselves
look stupid yet inadvertently working it out:
A
‘ h! Zee cat was sitting ’ere earlier, perhaps ’e ate it. I must
interview ’im first. Errrrr, but ’e ’ates chocolate, it makes ’im
sick. Let’s see, ’oo else was around? Dad’s out. Zat leaves you
and me. I don’t zink it was me, I was on the phone…’
Summary
While issues of ‘lying’ and ‘stealing’ are inherently difficult, they
can be tackled in a variety of direct and non-direct ways we can
incorporate into our daily lives. There may be several reasons for
our children’s behaviour, so we may need to consider which aspect
is most pressing to focus our energies most effectively. Initially this
can be challenging, but with practice, armed with our children’s
behavioural ‘dictionary’ and trusting our gut feelings, it becomes
increasingly possible. Remember that our children are adept at
telling us what we need to know and finding ways of signalling
when we get it wrong: we need to listen to them constantly.
We should also view the challenge as a long-term project: our
children may have had to practise ‘lying’ and ‘stealing’ for years.
We cannot hope to alter their behaviour in a few months, nor
should we lower our expectations that our children can become
more honest and trustworthy eventually. We may, however, need
to adjust our expectations of the speed at which we can achieve
this, alongside our perceptions of our children’s behaviour as
innately ‘bad’ and of ourselves as ‘bad’ parents.

See Appendix 2.
Chapter 13
Making Changes,
Managing
Changes
Making changes
Change is a challenge: an opportunity for growth and development
that is both exciting and scary. However, for our children any
transition, however small, can feel like a terrifying step too far.
As therapeutic parents we cannot expect our children to consider
changing until we make some changes ourselves. We might argue
that how we have parented in the past has ‘worked’, ‘if it’s broke
don’t fix it’, or that being asked to change implies we are not
good enough and should not be doing the job. However, a good
enough car mechanic would be failing in her job if she continued
to use the same tools on new vehicles as she used on older models.
Similarly, building up our developmental reparenting ‘tool-box’
means more than changing the way we feel and behave towards
our children and ourselves: it involves changing our mind-set as
well as our tool-set. As ever, we should start by understanding our
children’s history and how this affected, and continues to affect,
their bodies, brains and understanding of relationships and the
204
Making Changes, Managing Changes 205
world. This means walking a while in their shoes to appreciate

the fear base that continues to dominate their lives and exploring
the most effective transition tools for them.
At a recent training event, participants were invited to complete
a ‘wall’ of paper bricks on which to write what children need at
each stage in their lives: from birth to two years, two to five years,
five to ten years and ten years into adolescence. Working upwards
from the earliest stage we explored which bricks were missing or
damaged through abuse and neglect. As we went through this
exercise the gaps in the wall became apparent, as did the fragility
of the structure: highlighting the impact of early adversity during
that period but also at all subsequent stages. The robustness of
a wall is only as good as its structure: cracked or missing bricks
create points of vulnerability. Similarly, children’s emotional
robustness is only as good as the consistency and evenness of
their developmental ‘building blocks’.
What the ‘wall exercise’ failed to highlight was that any
structure must stand on firm foundations. These unseen foundations
are crucial for the survival of the entire structure, so that it can
withstand the ravages of wind, rain and cold. Our children’s
pre-birth and early experiences form the ‘unseen foundations’
upon which their resilience and wellbeing are predicated. So,
like an archaeologist, we must painstakingly ‘dig down to their
experiential foundations’ to identify the ‘earthworks’ that support
their neurobiological ‘bricks’. We will then have a more complete
overview of structures that underpin our children’s physical and
emotional functioning, their understanding of the world and
their place within it. Amending the wall tool, to include the
foundations, allows us to examine what happened to our children
alongside what is happening now. Feeling how ‘wobbly’ and
unsupported they feel can provide us with a better mind-set to
offer the secure base that will allow our children to rebuild their
lives.
After taking time to ‘walk in our children’s shoes’ we need to
explore ‘walking in our own childhood shoes’. Reflecting on our
childhood experiences allows us to recognise how they shaped
our neurobiological connections and hence our competencies

and outlook on life. It offers us opportunities to consider the
old familiar ‘voices in our heads’ from way back that influence
our interpretation of our children’s behaviour now. Many of us
will have been given messages that answering back, not doing
what we were told or taking things without asking, were ‘major
misdemeanours’ that drew epithets such as ‘rude’, ‘lazy’, ‘naughty’
or ‘dishonest’. Given that we tend to parent as we were parented,
we are likely to find it hard to silence those voices. Yet it is only
by ‘turning down the volume’ and ‘changing the scripts’ that we
can recognise the intensity of fear and confusion that underpin
our children’s perceptions and responses.
Acknowledging that children’s behaviour is the only language
they have for letting us know their feelings, and changing our
interpretation of their actions from ‘won’t do’ to ‘can’t do’, we can
take the mind-set leap that allows us to become the therapeutic
parents our children need us to be. Being able to ask the question
‘What are our children trying to say to us?’ rather than ‘What are
our children doing to us?’ will be the signal that we have started
the journey. Articulating the answer is the next crucial step, a
step that embraces all our therapeutic principles and considers
our children’s difficulties at any given moment in terms of:
• whether they are experiencing the safety of a secure base
• their need for nurture and structure
• whether they are in brainstem, limbic or cortical mode
• their sensori-motor tolerance and discrimination
• their emotional age
• their functional level of OP and OC
• the extent to which their perceptions of our actions
accurately reflect our intentions or are refracted through
the distorting prism of fear-based MN systems
• the degree to which their shame-based feelings impact
their self-perceptions
• their ‘mindful’, ‘mentalising’ and EF capacities.
Managing changes
If the steps to becoming therapeutic parents seem daunting, we
should remind ourselves that we need not be perfect and that
we can and should make mistakes in our parenting. Indeed,
‘good enough’ parenting requires us only to ‘get it right’ about
60 per cent of the time; Winnicott (1965) makes it clear that
being an ‘ordinary devoted mother’ is ‘good enough’ and that
the vast majority of parents fulfil that criterion. While parenting
traumatised children is far more complex than parenting securely
attached children, the ‘good enough’ rule still applies. We can use
our inevitable mistakes and misattunements as part of the joint
learning process. Indeed both are intrinsic to all parent–child
relationships, for example when toddlers begin to explore their
world, make ‘mistakes’ and feel misattuned with caregivers. These
temporary disconnections, when ‘repaired’ immediately, help
them learn to monitor and keep themselves safe and internalise
important social expectations and rules.
Children naturally respond to the word ‘no’ with feelings
of shame and abandonment plunging them into deep distress.
‘Good enough’ parents respond and immediately ‘repair’ this
break in attachment, using touch and reassuring words to let their
children know they are still loved, despite their actions. These
interactions gradually help children recognise danger and learn
the difference between ‘right and wrong’. Moreover, ‘feeling felt
and understood’, they can learn to ‘feel’ for other people: to gain
empathy for others. Abused and neglected children are unlikely
to have been socialised appropriately. Instead they experience
toxic levels of shame and unresolved misattunements; they
received powerful messages that their behavioural challenges
reflect their intrinsic worthlessness. Consequently they are unable
to distinguish between ‘doing bad things’ and ‘being bad’ and
continue to react with the overwhelming distress of young
toddlers. Armed with this developmental awareness, we can move
from ‘chronological age’ responses to ‘functional age responses’
in responding to our children’s misdemeanours, using the toddler
socialisation ‘remind and immediately repair’ approach. We can
also relax into ‘good enough mode’ and have great fun ‘making
and mending mistakes’.
Managing change becomes easier when we remember that
day-to-day interactions with our children create the perfect arena
to hone our ‘good enough’ therapeutic parenting skills and that
altering our interactions in one scenario can lead to changes in
several areas of difficulty. For example, when dropping off and
picking up our children from school we can:
• give ourselves time and take our time: reducing our stress
levels and making ourselves available to co-regulate our
children’s fears about separation and transitions
• hand them a small TO, such as a laminated key-fob
displaying a recent family photograph, blow them a kiss
and tell them we will be there when they come out of
school, strengthening attachment connections and OP
• ensure we wear the same coat on both the morning and
afternoon school runs, addressing issues around both OP
(we do come back) and OC (we look the same)
• remark on how much we missed our children while they
were at school, consolidating object self-permanence (OSP)
that being ‘held in mind’ they too continue to exist
• simultaneously express our love and commitment to our
children and let them know they are special and worthy
of love: an essential precursor to reducing shame-based
feelings
• arrive on time at school, to offer routine and structure and
strengthen their trust that they can rely on us: slowly and
gradually ‘rewiring’ their MN circuits
• use our solo journeys from and to school to assess our
own feelings where our children are likely to be on the
brainstem, limbic, cortical continuum, our own feelings,
and how best to greet them
• be more aware of their needs, and ‘if in doubt going low’,
we could offer a quick cuddle and a run in the park rather
than asking how our children’s day has been: altering their
stress hormone levels and moving them upwards along the
continuum
• have a snack ready for our children when they return home,
which they helped choose before going out, reinforcing all
these messages in a single interaction.
Invaluable opportunities to practise managing transitions abound
at bedtime. We can use our heightened understanding of our
children’s histories to anticipate what for us can seem simple
transitions, such as going to bed, that can threaten our children’s
fragile security. If our children lived with domestic violence
they may have lain awake at night listening to raised voices and
worrying about Mummy’s safety and their own; if they were
sexually abused they may have awaited their abuser’s next visit
with trepidation. Neglected children may have gone to bed
hungry and afraid that their caregivers would be absent or ‘out
of it’ on drugs or alcohol when they woke up. Moreover, since
abusive and neglectful parents tend to be highly unpredictable,
our children could never be certain whether they would be
hurt or abandoned on any particular night, making every night
terrifying. In all these instances bedtime would have been a time
when they experienced great fear rather than the safety and
relaxation normally associated with sleep.
We must therefore develop bedtime routines that reflect our
children’s unmet needs for nurture and structure, offering them
the consistent good ‘baby’ experiences that were absent in their
birth families and validating the deep-seated fears they may hide
through ‘delaying tactics’, night-time wanderings or midnight
fridge raids. Our emphasis should be on practising the ‘thinking
toddler’ approach, acknowledging the discrepancies between our
children’s chronological and developmental ages that affect their
current perceptions, beliefs and behaviour. Acting in consistently
loving, empathic and calm ways conveys our understanding
of our children’s needs even before they are aware of them.
Expecting them to ‘act their age’ and ‘not be afraid of the dark’
sends messages that we do not understand them and does not

allow them to learn how they feel themselves. We also need to
remember that every facial, vocal or body communication we
make may trigger a defensive or offensive response before we
have uttered a word. Recognising these issues and changing our
mind-set helps reduce our children’s trauma-based MN firing and
helps them recognise that now is not the same as then.
Bearing this in mind, a good bedtime routine might involve:
• preparing our children for bed in advance, reminding
them well beforehand and introducing ‘wind down’ time;
calming music and shared stories provide the co-regulation
and relaxation that television and computer games cannot
• setting up mutually pleasurable experiences of bath-time;
we may have to be quite creative in doing this: for example,
showering together in swimming costumes, or chatting
through a closed door if children are older or have been
sexually abused
• creating regular times for reading and singing to our
children in their bedrooms and using this time to point out
things they did well during the day
• mentioning our plans for the remainder of the evening,
letting our children know that we still exist when we leave
their room (OP)
• giving them our evening ‘schedule’; this simultaneously
helps them make sense of any sounds and movements they
hear, encouraging their sense of safety and structure
• letting them know we will be thinking of them, and are
looking forward to seeing them in the morning when they
wake up; this reinforces OSP
• telling them we will pop back to see them in a few minutes
this gives the message that we are indeed still there for them
(OP) and simultaneously builds trust that we are reliable
• adding in cuddle-time, night-time drinks and massage-time;

this directly calms their senses and encourages relaxing
neurochemical messages to flow through their bodies: for
example, warm milk raises serotonin levels
• providing an automatic switch-off CD player with soothing
music or rhythmic stories for our children that relaxes them
towards sleep: for best effect creating home recordings of
ourselves reading or singing
• empathising with them by saying we know they struggle
with going to bed and want to help them with their feelings,
mentioning that we know that in the past bedtimes were
often scary times for them. This helps them ‘feel felt and
understood’ and makes sense for them of their feelings and
behaviour
• apologising for this, saying, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you
feel safe at bedtimes when you were little. I know it’ll take you some
time to learn that you’re safe here and for me to get it right, so let’s
practise together.’
This bedtime routine epitomises our developmental reparenting
principles and works on all the key areas of our children’s
difficulties. It may not be a routine that is possible to achieve
immediately or every night. However, making sure we include
some elements nightly is certainly possible, and vital. We can
acknowledge to our children in advance when their routine needs
to be changed and explain why. However, if, for example, we
are ill or the family returns late from an outing, we should bear
in mind that such circumstances can raise children’s stress levels
(cortisol) and make bedtime more arduous all round.
In making and maintaining change we should also consider
making changes to our priorities and our support network. While
we may not be able to afford help in our home, we could reduce
the number of household tasks we need to perform: perhaps by
relaxing our standards in dusting and vacuuming or by shopping
on line. We can then create more time to play with our children,
or for a well-deserved coffee break that allows us to wind down

and relax. We may also need to practise asking for, and accepting
offers of, help from friends and family. While our goal may be
for all our family and friends to understand our children’s special
needs and engage with them using developmental reparenting
principles, this may not be possible in practice. However, we may
have friends we can meet for coffee and chats avoiding child-
related topics or for a swim, massage or walk. Such activities can
give us back a sense of ourselves as valued individuals outside
our role as parents: an important part of helping us feel good
enough about ourselves to weather the storms of parenting our
traumatised children.
Our two examples of common family activities can help
us to consider other ways in which we can put developmental
reparenting principles into practice in other day-to-day activities
with our children. Gradually, as we work on our approach
to parenting, we will acquire the mind-set to ensure that
developmental reparenting becomes our natural, normal way of
being with our children. We may even begin to recognise that this
approach is invaluable in our interactions with our wider family
and friendship networks. Whilst developmental reparenting
principles are crucial in parenting traumatised children, they are
not tools exclusive to this environment; they can improve our
relationships within any social setting.

See Appendix 2.
Chapter 14
Special Occasions
Think back to how we celebrated birthdays and Christmas as

children. Were we given parties, presents and lots of excitement:
things we wanted to repeat when we became parents, yet which
seem not to ‘work’ with our traumatised children? Understanding
why it is often difficult for our children to celebrate the special
occasions that form part of ordinary family life begins, as always,
with considering their early histories and how these experiences
colour their perceptions. For example, birthdays for adopted and
fostered children represent families lost as well as families gained.
They are potent, wordless reminders that ours were not the
wombs in which they grew or the faces and smiles they saw on
entering the world. Similarly, the sensations, sounds and smells
that formed their earliest experiences were very different from
those they experience now, unconsciously reinforcing children’s
‘not-belonging’ and that change means loss.
Birthday celebrations in birth families may have been ‘over-
done’, with lavish gifts to ‘make up for’ abuse or neglect, ‘under-
done’, with parents too preoccupied to mark these special occasions,
or, often, an unpredictable mix of experiences. Moreover, in some
families, siblings or half-siblings may have been treated quite
differently by close or extended family members: some children
receiving piles of expensive presents and others little or nothing.
Common, hurtful, underlying messages are ‘You’re not worth it’,
‘It’s all your fault’ or ‘You’re different’. Since birthdays may have
been handled quite differently by subsequent foster carers, they
213
can also carry hidden reminders of further hurts and losses .

Hence loss becomes an almost inevitable part of birthday
associations, often not just of children’s own but of everyone
else’s too.
However, the build-up to birthdays can become a forum for
exploring what loss means to our children, if we choose times
when both we and they are feeling calm and comfortable.
Engaging in ‘loss-based’ conversations when our children are
most able to engage their top-storey ‘talking and thinking brains’,
through soothing, accepting body language and voice tones, we
can instigate ‘quick chats’: using short, clear phrases that invite
conversation without insisting on it or persisting for too long. We
might say:
‘It’s your birthday next month. I bet you’re excited and hoping
for lots of presents. I wonder if it also reminds you about your
birth mum and what life was like then. I know lots of adopted
children struggle with that.’
Perhaps give a small example of what happened back then,
followed by:
‘I know it’s difficult for you to sort out these mixed-up feelings
and I’m here to help. It’s my job to help sort your muddles out,
so let’s give it a go.’
‘You know, I don’t feel any different now I’m a year older. More
grey hair maybe, but still the same inside.’
Such brief exchanges carry very important messages to our
children that:
• we understand they have complex and contradictory
feelings about birthdays
• many other fostered and adopted children feel the same
way
• it takes time to feel they belong here
• it’s not their fault
Special Occasions 215
• it’s OK to have these feelings and share them with us

• change can be scary
• together we can make sense of what is going on and make
things more manageable.
We might also encourage our children to draw or write about
their feelings; letters written to birth parent(s) can be very
powerful messages they may eventually choose to rip up, or burn,
‘ceremonially’, rather than send. Remember that our children are
likely to have confused and confusing feelings towards their birth
families, especially anger and sadness, due to their distressing and
unpredictable experiences. They may continue to miss abusive or
neglectful birth parents, yet feel unable to share this with us due
to divided loyalties. They may also not remember, or ‘choose to
forget’, much that was painful from their past and cling to an
idealised image of early family life. Moreover we may become
distressed by our feelings of rejection and may need to work on
this before we can support our children. Bearing in mind that we
often take things out on those closest to us, we can then interpret
our children’s reactions more positively .
Our children need to be able to share all their feelings with
us and feel that we can handle and accept them as they are.
Simultaneously we must ensure their memories are reality-based.
It may be painful for us and our children to think about their
past hurts, but this in no way equals the pain of bearing them
in isolation, or handling them alone as they were happening.
We need to remind ourselves that our children were there when
the neglect or abuse occurred and were unlikely to have had
anybody to turn to for comfort or support. They were in the
intolerable position of having to deny what happened or accept
responsibility for it. Being therapeutic parents means ‘walking
with’, and talking to, our children about the reality of their past
in ways that allow them to ‘think the unthinkable’ and ‘speak
the unspeakable’. By enabling them ‘to go there’ they can release
themselves from the shame that poisons their lives . With our
help they can begin the ‘share, care and repair’ process: but only
if they feel we accept them for all of who they are and were,
including those events about which they feel most shame. The
maxim ‘a trouble shared is a trouble halved’ is invaluable here.
If we have shared several birthdays together we can remind our
children, in matter-of-fact, ‘I just happened to notice’, non-shaming
ways, of previous difficulties and ‘wonder’ how we can work
together to make this birthday more manageable. Taking some
responsibility for past difficulties by letting our children know
we made a mistake in forgetting their experiences of birthdays are
not the same as ours, we might say:
‘I noticed you really struggled with your party last year. I’m
sorry about that. When I was a child, I really liked parties and
I forgot it’s not the same for you. Let’s see how YOU would like
to celebrate your birthday this year.’
We might then go on to suggest alternative ways of marking their
birthday, such as a trip to the swimming pool or cinema together,
having a sleep-over with just one friend, or a family weekend
camping in the garden. These ideas will be very personal and, as
their parents, we are best placed to offer choices that work best for
each individual child each year. We should also remind ourselves
that each of our children is unique, has acquired differing coping
mechanisms and needs ‘custom-built’ birthday celebrations.
Sometimes it may be preferable not to celebrate children’s
birthdays at all, choosing a pre-birthday occasion to acknowledge
they are a year older, or suggesting we have extra hugs every
day to celebrate ‘being us and being together’. This reassures our
children that we have not forgotten their birthday yet eliminates
potentially distressing messages, feelings and ‘meltdowns’. We
might wish to inject an extra note of fun by suggesting, for
example, that we have a ‘Mad Hatter’s Tea-party’ where the
guests celebrate non-birthdays. Downloading the ‘un-birthday
song’ from the internet could help here.
If our children have difficulties with peer relationships,
or struggle with sharing or unstructured time, we need to
think carefully about whether to arrange a party – birthday or

otherwise. Activities involving peers may at best be fraught: add
in over-excitement, unfulfilled expectations, ‘showing off ’ and
negative feedback to and from other parents, they can become
a recipe for disaster. Our children may struggle to know who to
invite, especially if they have difficulty sustaining relationships.
Their best friend may be their worst enemy between invitations
being sent out and the party. It is not uncommon for children
to struggle so much with the anticipation of who will and will
not come and the fear of rejection that they engage in unwitting
‘sabotage’, such as falling out with their friends pre-party: giving
them some perverse ‘control’ over an intolerable situation.
If parties go ahead, the levels of supervision and structure
required may make it impossible for us to ensure our children
and their guests are kept safe and happily entertained. Even if we
are prepared to ‘give it a go’ ourselves, parents of other children
may take the easy way out and find ‘reasons’ for refusing our
invitation and avoid inviting our children to their children’s
parties, compounding our children’s feelings of exclusion and
alienation. Remember that, even if our children manage playing
with peers on an average day, raised stress neurochemicals such as
cortisol resulting from heightened anticipation and excitement are
likely to reduce their capacity to cope and spoil their special day,
or their friends’. Discretion can be the better part of valour here.
In the latter case suggesting an alternative activity to coincide
with a party invitation (and a diplomatic word with the parents
of would-be inviters) can be invaluable.
Christmas and New Year, while lacking such obvious
connotations or reminders of earlier losses than birthdays, may
also be very fraught times for our children. If birth family members
had drug or alcohol problems these may have intensified during
the festive season, traditionally a time of excess. Birth parents
may have made promises of wonderful times only for things to
go awry in the lead-up to Christmas, or on the day itself. Broken
promises may have been compounded when expected presents
did not materialise and natural disappointment led to acrimony
and perhaps abuse. Now feelings of anticipation in our homes can

trigger the same neurobiological and biochemical responses as in
the past, leading to feelings of fear over-riding their excitement.
MN circuits will fire in response to situations reflecting earlier
experiences, so, for example, first sight of a Christmas tree, talk of
compiling letters to Santa or writing Christmas cards or the smell
of alcohol, though likely to have positive associations for us, can
herald disaster to our children and comfortable family life.
The general build-up to Christmas and New Year also brings
changes to structure and routine in school and in out-of-home
activities. Since historically change has become associated
with fear and loss, any change in the present can dysregulate
our children and disorganise their behaviour patterns. Ends
and beginnings of years and terms are often fraught, as such
transitions represent greater losses than gains; tensions are likely
to be noticeably heightened in the flurry of special classroom
activities associated with the festive season. It may be difficult
for us to have much impact on school activities directly; however,
we can work with staff to help them understand these issues and
mitigate the distress for our children. We might arrange that our
children attend only part time in the run-up to the end of term
and limit optional activities to those we feel they can manage
well. We may need to weather comments from relatives, friends
and other parents who view our actions as punitive (or pandering)
to our children, rather than as helping them cope. We must hold
faith that by adopting developmental reparenting principles we
are doing our best for our children: finding like-minded foster
and adoptive parents, family and friends can provide the strength
we need to take the long view.
At home we should keep celebrations as low-key as possible,
our own ‘partying’ too, and keep routines as ‘normal’ as possible.
This is a time to anticipate potential difficulties, talk through
our plans in advance with our family and empathise with our
children’s difficulties during the festive period. Who knows, this
may create a more relaxed end of year for everyone than we are
used to! We might say:
‘My guess is that Christmas time is exciting and also scary

for you. I know it’s hard when things change and you’re not
sure what’s happening. I know I’d struggle if I’d had as many
changes as you. Let’s draw up an events diary and stick it on the
fridge so we know what’s going on.’
‘Tomorrow’s the day we’re going to put the Christmas tree up. I
wonder how you feel about helping me fetch it and dig out the
decorations?’
‘I hate all this chaos and hype. Let’s have a “business as usual
day” and relax.’
‘Things don’t always have to change when the year changes. We
could make a New Year’s resolution to stay the same until we
feel like changing!’
‘We’ll still be the same old family in the same old house even
if we put up decorations, wear silly hats and eat special foods.’
Encouraging our children to check the family events diary daily
helps them see there is structure within the changes to routine
we have planned. Reframing old traditions, such as Father
Christmas bringing a single special present and leaving it in our
bedroom, can reduce hyped expectations and also fears associated
with abusive night-time visitors. Creating new family traditions,
like the New Year’s ‘no change’ resolution or making our own
Christmas crackers, Advent calendars or personal presents, can
build positive seasonal associations, strengthen OC and help
rewire MN systems.
We can talk about joint activities, reducing the surprise element
and giving our children expectations for future years:
‘Do you remember we did…last year? How much fun was
that? I’m really looking forward to doing…this year.’
This reminds our children that last year was different from
Christmases before they came home to us, that we have kept them
safe and that they have already been with us for ‘a long time’.
Providing a plethora of presents to ‘keep up with the Jones’,
or as outward expressions of love, is not in our children’s best
interests, leading to distress and family disharmony. Many
traumatised children have so little sense of self-esteem or self-
worth they feel they should not have gifts or that ‘lots’ is still
not enough. This can lead to leaving presents untouched, trying
to give them away, or finding fault with them. They may ‘lose’,
break or take others’ presents; the costly toys we spent loving
hours buying and wrapping may be in pieces by Boxing Day. This
is likely to create angry and hurt feelings all round, leading to
major arguments, sulking or violence. So it can be better to limit
expenditure and gifts and spread what we have bought over the
festive period or even the rest of the year. Beginning this process
in advance of birthdays and Christmas reduces the challenges and
‘surprises’ with which our children may struggle.
Surprises are particularly difficult for those for whom ‘surprises’
led to, or followed, incidents of abuse and neglect. The surprises
we offer our children may be well intentioned but may have
unexpected consequences, including fear, sadness, shame or even
self-harm. Establishing a tradition of having small daily or weekly
‘surprises’ at fixed times over a longer period can reduce levels of
anticipation and distress, give children opportunities to practise
accepting presents and build a realistic sense of entitlement.
We, too, are likely to feel less anger and disappointment if an
inexpensive present is ‘lost’ or damaged. Another, perhaps more
unconventional, way of minimising adverse responses to surprises
can be to let children know which presents they will receive or to
choose them together from within a price range or limited list we
draw up. Pictures from catalogues can provide invaluable visual
reminders of choices, further reducing anxiety levels.
We may also need to consider other important anniversaries in
our children’s lives, such as the anniversary of their move to our
home or from their birth family into care. Even if they were ‘too
young to remember’ events or dates, their bodies will be sensitised

to, for example, day length or seasonal changes, and will send
out ‘red alert’ signals. Our children’s behaviour may deteriorate
as unconscious memories trigger feelings and behaviours they
struggle to comprehend. It is important to be aware of these
significant anniversaries, using both historical records and current
behaviour patterns as clues. Helping children make sense of the
‘dips and troughs’ of their feelings and actions enables them to
make sense of their internal world and move towards gaining
control of their external world.
In general, devising our own anniversaries can help our
children feel settled with us: that they belong. ‘Anniversaries’
might include daily, weekly or monthly small treats or special
activities, creating opportunities to celebrate our shared lives and
reminding them of their time with us. This can be particularly
important for children who had frequent changes in caregiver or
circumstance. Reminding our children of the weeks, months and
years they have lived with us and reflecting on what we did last
week, last month and last year can help our children ‘remember’
in their bodies, brains and minds that we have a growing shared
history: one that is very different from before. It will take time and
ingenuity to develop their trust in us, strengthen self-regulation,
encourage OP and OC and alter their MN systems – but then
who said developmental reparenting was easy?! As long as our
spirit is willing, our flesh will not let us down.
In Appendix 1 we offer an inspirational poster for the
festive season.
Chapter 15
Handling
Holidays
Whilst holidays (vacations) clearly fall within the remit of ‘special

occasions’, we should give equal importance to the principles
involved in managing changes.
As prospective parents we probably had visions of family
holidays as times of fun and laughter, when we could relax and
spend quality time with our children. Once we have families
we may start looking forward to escaping the pressures of daily
family life, with well-earned breaks from the structure and routine
normally needed to ensure, for example, that our children arrive
at school on time with all the appropriate kit. Letting our hair
down is also a vital survival tool. However, holidays with our
children are often characterised by additional stresses, laced with
periods of mayhem. In order to understand why our dream family
holiday differs so much from the lived reality, we need to consider
what holiday times mean for our children. As ever, this involves
thinking about the experiential journey our children took to reach
our families. We might ask ourselves the following questions:
• How many previous changes of carer did our children have,
bearing in mind that they are likely to have experienced
additional changes not identified in case files?
• What was the nature of these changes?
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Handling Holidays 223
• Were they planned or unplanned?

• What preparation, or involvement in planning, did our
children have?
• Were they given help to make sense of each move or to
express anxieties about what was happening to them?
• Did they pack their own things or were they handed a bag
of ‘stuff ’ as they left or arrived at their new ‘home’?
• What transport was used and who went with them?
• How were our children perceived as coping with the
moves?
We then need to work out what these experiences meant, and
continue to mean, to our children in terms of their expectations
and behaviour. Often separations from birth families were abrupt
and traumatic; a caregiver may have suddenly disappeared out of
our children’s lives as parents split up or perhaps ‘went on little
holidays’ to prison. There may have been numerous ‘going back
homes’ with periods of formal or informal care elsewhere before
children were removed permanently. Some rehabilitation attempts
may have been in accommodation away from their family base.
As they were officially removed, our children may have been told
by birth family members that they were ‘just going away for a
little while’ and, if they remain in contact, may continue to hear
that ‘one day soon’ they will be reunited as a family. Sometimes
‘going away’ becomes associated with new toys or clothes, as
birth families struggle to let go and try to make themselves, and
their relinquished children, feel better. Initially, becoming ‘looked
after’ may also have connotations of material gain or the ‘feel
good’ of a ‘honeymoon period’.
Subsequently, temporary foster carers may have held parties
when children moved on again, intending to mark this as a time
for celebration and implying that they would be missed. Instead
our children may have inferred that foster carers were celebrating
their leaving and would not miss them. Moreover, foster families’
holiday arrangements may have meant yet another move for our
children, this time into temporary respite care. They will have
witnessed the pleasure and excitement foster family members
displayed as they prepared, yet felt excluded or even punished
for ‘not being good enough’. Indeed their behaviour may have
played a significant part here, confirming that they are unlovable
and deserve to be left out or abandoned.
Consider, too, our children’s response to meeting us. Did
they appear to settle reasonably well, with little upset at leaving
previous carers? At the time we may have felt reassured that
this boded well for the placement; the reverse is likely to be
true. A more realistic interpretation would be that our children
experienced this move as just one more to be survived. Their
intense fear of separation and loss may have caused them to ‘shut
down’ such overwhelming feelings: the line of least resistance is
often the last battle-line of all and the only one available to them.
Now, when we look at our children’s response to holidays, we
may see many of the same dynamics at play. Rather than thinking:
‘Oh goody! How exciting, we’re going away’, our children may
feel distressing tension in their bodies and emotions, such as fear
of the unknown, they do not understand. They are more likely
to think ‘Not again! What have I done this time?’ or ‘Why can’t I
stay here, I was just beginning to get used to this house and this
family?’ than to relish the idea of another change. We should
remember, too, that our children tend to have poor emotional
literacy, so the excitement they pick up may be experienced as
equally distressing and inexplicable as fear, anger or grief. Add
to this the inevitable family stresses as packing gets under way,
items are lost, pets need to be temporarily ‘rehomed’ and other
last-minute preparations made, and we have a potential recipe for
disaster.
To consider the impact on our children of these separation
experiences, visualise being visited by a colleague we do not know
well who says she has heard we are having some relationship
difficulties with our partner and that she has great news for us:
she has found us a new partner. What feelings emerge as we
picture this? Would we happily pack our bags, anticipating that
this might be just the opportunity we need, or would we be filled

with trepidation about the implications? Would we feel able to
ask who this person was and why they wanted us to live with
them? Would we go, or would we dare refuse? Had we seen the
move coming or was it a bolt out of the blue? Would we view
it objectively, feel it was ‘all our fault’ or blame our colleague
or new partner? Moreover, how would we feel if our colleague
grabbed a few of our things at random and led us out to their
car there and then? And what if our ex-partner decided to host
a ‘goodbye’ party: would we feel they are saying how much we
would be missed or ‘good riddance’?
Alternatively, consider how previously divorced persons might
feel if someone they met only a month previously proposed out of
the blue? Would they be likely to trust that this time the marriage
would be successful, or have doubts about whether this relationship
would be better than the previous one? Probably most people
would have grave reservations and feelings of trepidation: such
natural emotions are likely to be highly intensified in children
who have had ambiguous relationships with several carers, often
feeling powerless to control their own destiny. Moreover, unlike
adult divorcees, our children’s experiences occurred when their
neurobiological ‘wiring’ was still ‘under construction’ and the
MN systems that help them make sense of the world were still
immature. They are less likely to have experienced lasting, positive
attachment relationships with which to balance the negative ones.
Repeated changes in carer will also have affected our children’s
ability to develop a secure base and sound OP. Consider how
many houses they have lived in and how many ‘mother-figures’
our children have known before coming home to us. Often these
previous ‘knowns’ seemed to ‘disappear’ arbitrarily, with any
returns ‘home’, or contact, tenuous or intermittent. Subsequently
our children may come to associate ‘security’ with the concrete
building of our dwelling and see us merely as ‘part of the ever-
changing scenery’. No wonder many of them struggle with the
concept of holidays – leaving the one thing they are beginning
to see as permanent – and let us know through their behavioural

language just how distressed they feel.
These visualisations can help us make some sense of our
children’s difficulties around holidays. So whilst we frequently
use the term ‘going away’ to mean taking short recreational
breaks and gaining some ‘me’ time, for our children ‘going away’
is overshadowed by ‘forever’ and loss: of home, family, sense of
belonging, sense of self. Furthermore, the difficulties they face in
relation to changes in routine and structure are highly relevant
when thinking about holidays, which by their very nature involve
changes in daily rhythms. We can help our children feel more
comfortable with these by acknowledging their difficulties
openly, empathising, and validating their feelings during the
holiday planning and preparation stages. We might say:
‘I know it’s hard for you when things change. My guess is this is
because you’ve had so many scary changes in your life.’
‘We’re all going on holiday soon, so we’ll change where we’ll
be sleeping for two weeks. We’ll be doing lots of different
things when we’re there too. I can see this might be scary to you.
Remember I’ll always be here to help you with your feelings.’
‘We’re all going together – you don’t get rid of us that easily!’
‘Here’s the brochure with pictures and information about where
we’re going. Let’s make a drink and have a look.’
‘We can make a “countdown calendar” later today so we know
when we’re going and when we’re coming back.’
‘Let’s think. What things would you like to take with you?’
These exchanges are not intended to reassure children that the

changes involved in going on holiday with us are different or
less important than those of the past. Instead we begin from the
bottom up, acknowledging the continuing fear-based nature of
our children’s responses: giving them clear messages that we
understand their world and their feelings and are there to help
them. We should then create ample opportunities to talk to them
about the early experiences that caused them to feel this way:
providing as many concrete examples as possible. We might say:
‘You and Terri went to live in a hostel in Cadlington when you
were just a baby because Max was hurting her. There were lots
of strange people and it was so noisy. Babies don’t like changes
or lots of noisy people.’
‘When you were three and lived with your birth mum she was
rushed into hospital and you went to stay at Mary’s. You didn’t
know why, or when you’d be going home. You must have felt so
scared and lonely. That would put me off going away too.’
Gently exploring these painful circumstances helps them gain
sufficient insights to recognise that how they feel ‘now’ reflects
how they felt ‘then’, yet this time they are not alone. This is a
challenge that requires much forethought, yet it is essential if our
children are to develop coherent narratives with us, alongside the
feeling of gaining greater control over their lives. Having validated,
and empathised with, our children, our next step is to explore
with them how they can manage their feelings. Recognising that
they may not know what will help, we need to be prepared to
come up with suggestions. We might begin by thinking about the
type of holiday that might work best for them. This is where the
element of reassurance can enter into the equation.
‘Holidays are important for this family, so let’s see if we can
figure out how to make it easier for you to feel OK.’
‘Lots of adopted children hate going away on holiday. It feels

like a huge upheaval. Remember, I’ll be with you every step of
the way.’
‘Some families find it works better to go caravanning or camping
– that’s a bit like taking your house with you. That could be
good and we could practise in the garden.’
‘You love swimming, so maybe staying near a lake or the sea
would work?’
‘We won’t go too far. Then if it gets too much for us we can
always come home.’
Children may be able to manage days out or overnight trips close
to home, rather than two weeks abroad, at least for their initial
holidays with us (despite the lure of better weather). Talking to
our children about this, letting them know where we are going
and why, shows that we recognise their difficulties, shows them
that we are considering their needs alongside our own and gives
them some control over events. We should not assume that our
children will recognise our intentions as positive without being
clear about this, often to the point of exaggeration. Nor should
we expect that they will feel more relaxed about the holiday
simply because we have made our choice with them in mind. We
will need to continue listening to and validating their unspoken
feelings, making it clear that we understand they may struggle to
cope with even brief absences from home.
Clearly it is vital to take into account our children’s early
histories when planning holidays. For example, taking children
on holidays to farms or countryside, providing freedom to explore
without the restrictions of our more regulated home environment,
can be positive. However, if this is likely to trigger sensory
responses associated with, for example, odours within an abusive
or neglectful birth family, this would be a poor choice. Similarly
the child-centred amusements of ‘Disneyworld’ may appeal to
everyone superficially, yet the noise, sights, smells and movement
are likely to set off cascades of bodily and emotional sensations

(bottom and middle-storey responses) that threaten to overwhelm
children. Being strapped into a vehicle packed with belongings
can evoke the terror of previous moves and painful separations.
Fear of the unknown ‘out there’ can threaten to destabilise even
the most seemingly ‘together’ children. We must use our ‘forensic
knowledge’ to inform our holiday choices, to help us work out
‘which brain storey they are in’ and to let our children ‘know
what we know’ and help them make sense of their distress.
On previous moves our children may have moved alone, or with
siblings, to strange new environments: leaving the adults in the
familiar home and surroundings. It is up to us to help our children
experience ‘going away’ as different this time, emphasising that
we are all going on holiday together and returning together,
remembering that actions speak louder than words. Rather than
giving our children their own suitcase, we might choose to have
a family suitcase to hold everybody’s clothes. Encouraging our
children to help pack allows them to feel part of the decision-
making and more in control. This is crucial because children learn
through feeling and doing; simultaneously our words can act as
‘connectors’ linking the ‘thinking’ (top), and ‘feeling’ and ‘doing’
(bottom and middle-storey) areas of their semi-detached brains.
Obtaining photographs and information about what to expect
from the holiday, to share with our children, can reduce their
fear levels and help them gain a sense of self-agency. While the
internet is a useful initial tool, downloads, brochures and pictorial
reminders of the holiday that we can touch and look at repeatedly
with our children are more useful. Demonstrating the route from
home to holiday destination using a route planner or Google
Maps (printed off ) could also help. Stories and songs from the
area we intend to visit can set the scene too – alongside local
foodstuffs and traditions. Try a practice themed picnic in the
garden or kitchen with, say, Welsh cakes, Chelsea buns, scottish
shortbread, Irish soda bread or Cornish pasties as centrepieces,
depending on your destination. A few local words or sayings
could be introduced and practised, just as if travelling abroad;
such ‘off-the-wall happenings’ take the edge off the strangeness

of new places and are great fun!
If we have been on previous holidays together, photographs of
leaving and returning home can provide concrete reminders to our
children that we are coming back. Talking about previous holiday
journeys also helps to reinforce this and to stimulate changes to
their MN systems. If this is our first holiday together, talking
about previous short trips or days out will reinforce the ‘coming
home’ OP message. Children can draw maps of the footpaths or
route with ‘our house’ clearly depicted at both ends, completing
their holiday ‘narrative’. Similarly planning the return journey
from holiday destinations is very reassuring, perhaps noting the
main towns and villages along the way and conspicuously flagging
up ‘our town’. Taking photographs of home (inside and out) on
holiday with us and deliberately and openly leaving something
we treasure behind for the return can reduce children’s fears. We
might also discuss a number of post-holiday activities with them
to further emphasise that we are all returning home together.
It is important to talk about home, and when we are going
home, during the holiday and to remain conscious of our
children’s potential distress. They will let us know, through their
behaviour, when they are struggling: if we are able to remain
open to ‘hearing’ and ‘interpreting’ their behavioural language
we will be able to offer the therapeutic reparenting experiences
our children need. We could reflect their unspoken feelings by
wondering whether the digi-box will record our favourite TV
programmes whilst we are away or whether the cat left with next-
door neighbours misses us as much as we miss her. We might send
postcards to the house, letting it know we are looking forward to
sleeping in our own beds when we return, as another fun way of
reinforcing this message and strengthening OP.
Having considered some of the difficulties with holidays, it is
equally important to consider the opportunities. Going on holiday
with our children, if managed well, creates opportunities to spend
quality time together we can use to our children’s advantage.
Unless we are going on holiday with friends, the people we meet

on holiday are unlikely to form part of our normal social network.
This may make it possible for us to let our hair down and act in
less routine or restrained ways than in our home environment.
Not only does this give us a chance to be ‘all of ourselves’, it
allows our children to see other parts of us too: consolidating
OSC.
We might declare a ‘food amnesty’ or suggest eating dessert
before the main course: the stickier and messier the better. This
can help our children develop a different relationship to food:
particularly relevant with children who have food-related, or
cleanliness, issues. Sharing an ice-cream with our children rather
than having one each may feel easier on holiday; agreeing to
taking licks in turn provides valuable opportunities for closeness,
eye contact and sharing. We might issue a challenge that the
one who licks the most ice-cream wins a cuddle. We can then
be the one mock-crying ‘not fair’, subsequently collapsing into
giggles, as of course we get the cuddle too! Changing the usual
parent–child dynamics is unlikely to undermine the boundaries
and roles we have attempted to establish at home, since these
experiences will be ‘state-dependent’: responses and memories
relating specifically to the holiday will not be generalised to
home routines if we are clear that these are ‘things we usually only
do when away together’. Again this encourages the development of
OC and OSC.
We might also like to engage in activities that are outside our
own normal experiences, bearing in mind that our children’s
emotional age may make chronologically age-appropriate
activities less valuable for them. At the seaside burying parts of
our children in the sand and finding them is a fun alternative to
hide-and-seek and helps with OP, especially if we vocalise that
‘we know they’re there somewhere’ when searching for hidden bits. We
may feel more relaxed going on swings, see-saws or roundabouts
with our children than we would in our local park. This can ‘re-
do’, in safe, nurturing ways, the pre-birth and early post-natal
experiences that may not have gone well for our children, if for
example their birth mother concealed the pregnancy, was bed-

bound, or left them lying unattended. Subsequently we may feel
able to take these new activities back home: providing a better
and more memorable legacy than photographs or videos alone.
There may also be occasions when our children have the
opportunity to go away individually, perhaps on school trips.
Whilst we might relish the peace this could offer us temporarily,
there can be many stresses building up to such events. Fear of
separation and of the unknown can come into play, making it
well-nigh impossible for children to contemplate leaving home.
Rather than offering ‘reassurance’ and encouragement to our
children, often generating increased resistance, offering them
opportunities to choose not to go allows them to feel in control –
and often results in the decision to take part. If they are planning
to go, we may need to negotiate special conditions, such as being
allowed to receive or make phone calls home or to limit the period
away. Teaching staff and group leaders are often sympathetic once
our children’s special circumstances are explained and will ‘bend
the rules’. We should also make sure our children take with them
TOs, such as photos of us or a scarf that smells of home, and
write little cards reminding them we are thinking of them to be
received each day either by post or through an understanding
accompanying adult.
The element of choice is also important when it comes to us,
as parents, contemplating breaks away from home without our
children. Even if these are work related we should first consider
the likely impact on our children’s security and stress levels and,
if they are non-negotiable, ensure we do everything we can to
help them survive. Whilst we might easily argue that taking time
away for ‘R and R’ is essential to our survival, both in the short
and longer term we must balance this against the distress it may
cause our children. Remember that their sense of security and
belonging is weak and try to think what we would do if our
children were still babies or toddlers (bottom and middle-storey
mode). Keeping the separation period short, empathising with
their difficulties and keeping children’s routines as normal as usual
can help them to practise managing separations, as will providing

TOs and staying in contact by telephone, Skype, text or email.
Here the choice must ultimately be ours not our children’s: only
we can decide. However, if we are tuned into their feelings, we
can make that choice balancing their needs with ours. Similarly
only we can judge how much notice we should give our children
if we choose to go; some need time to get used to the idea of any
change, whilst stress levels can ‘crank up’ with too much warning
for others.
Summary
The central message of this chapter is that while holidays (vacations)
may be challenging for our children, recognising and validating
their feelings, being realistic about what they can manage and
working towards reducing their fears and muddles can allow us
to seize the opportunities that change brings. Breaks in routine
and sharing an unfamiliar environment provide opportunities for
us to bond and have fun with our children. In doing so we help
them perceive and relate to us and to the ever-changing world
in less fear-based (bottom-storey) ways: providing opportunities
for healthier neurobiological development (connecting to middle
and top storeys), changes in MN systems, strengthening OP and
OC and increasing wellbeing and resilience. It can also help
them learn that going away is not forever. Changes that involve
separations from us are clearly fraught with more difficulty.
Taking the developmental reparenting perspective allows us
to recognise that, just like small infants, the more we keep our
children close and in familiar surroundings now, the more they
will flourish independently in the future, as and when they are ready.
‘Checking in and checking out’ (see Appendix 2) allows us to put
our therapeutic parenting skills into practice in developmentally
appropriate ways.
Chapter 16
Juggling Siblings
Few children placed for adoption today avoid significant physical

or emotional trauma in their birth families; many suffer additional
trauma whilst being looked after. Even babies removed at birth are
likely to suffer pre-birth trauma, perhaps through poor nutrition
or exposure to drugs, alcohol or nicotine. At the very least they
experience the trauma of separation from the mother whose bio-
rhythms they have grown to know in the womb. In all cases,
their worlds will have been ones of confusion, dysregulation
and fractured attachments. We now explore this in terms of the
particular complexities brought to our families by siblings.
Siblings come in many shapes, sizes and ways: born into our
families (as neonates, usually one at a time and relatively healthy),
or placed with us, usually beyond babyhood, singly or as ‘a
set’; we can further sub-divide this group into siblings raised
together and those with differing family or care histories. When
hurt children are placed in new families with existing born-to
children it can create tensions based on a sense of difference, of
‘not-really-belonging’ and of lack of entitlement, over and above
their trauma-related issues. If coming into families where there are
already hurt children, their developmental attachment difficulties
can be further magnified, since these children’s behaviour may also
still reflect their early chaotic and inconsistent care. Competition
for what they perceive to be limited attention increases each
child’s anxieties and consequently their difficult behaviour, as
234
Juggling Siblings 235
they struggle to ‘tell’ us how they feel and be ‘heard’ above the
daily hubbub.
Where siblings come ‘as a set’, they bring with them existing,
distorted sibling interactions, to which they are likely to cling
and which further threaten attachment relationships within our
families. Different dynamics again can come into play where
siblings placed as a group have differing family or care histories.
Moreover, all children develop unique responses to their traumatic
experiences that significantly impact their understanding of
relationships, including those with siblings. While our children
may have spent their first months or years in the same family,
issues like their age, stage of development and position in the
family influence the effect these experiences have had on them
and the expectations they bring with them. Thus, far more than
born-to siblings, children coming home to us can vary in their
feelings about, relationships with and behaviour towards their
siblings. We need to devise individual ‘reparenting programmes’
taking into account each child’s history and current behaviour,
derived from developmental attachment principles.
One aspect to be considered that can significantly influence
children’s developmental attachments is the length of time they
spent within their dysfunctional family of origin. We might
presume that it would be the eldest children in sibling groups who
suffered the greatest trauma, having lived in that environment
longest. However, as their families expand, struggling parents
may have been able to offer more positive caregiving to their
first-born than to subsequent children. This is significant since
children’s earliest, pre-verbal experiences (in terms of good
enough parenting) are the most influential in determining their
neurobiological make-up. There may also have been gender
differences in the way parents related to their offspring, or one
child may have become the favourite. These differences influence
the way children view both themselves and each other, affecting
inter-sibling relationships and their expectations of subsequent
caregivers.
In deciding how to parent siblings, whether already in our

families or placed with us, we must begin by observing their
behaviour in conjunction with their trauma histories to provide us
with the essential clues to understanding their world. The effects
of children’s early traumatic experiences begin at the physical
level, and are strongly linked to emotional feelings and memories
beneath their conscious awareness. These in turn inform their
current perceptions and behaviour and form the basis for their
unconscious, perhaps contradictory, beliefs that:
• they are not good enough to be kept safe
• they are not special or important
• no-one listens to, or cares, about them
• there is not enough love to go round
• they must fight for adult attention
• their needs, and those of their siblings, will not be met
• if one sibling behaves badly, they may all be sent away
• all parents will eventually abandon or mistreat them
• it is not safe to be dependent
• siblings must look to each other for help.
For both favoured and non-favoured children, moving into
families where parents provide nurture and structure and treat
their children equally is likely to be distressing since it threatens
their perception of themselves, their siblings and their inter-
relationships. Helping our children learn the ‘language of
equality’ will be a protracted process, as it threatens to undermine
the rocky foundations upon which they have constructed their
perceptions of themselves and their world. Consequently they
tend to continue to misread our actions and misconstrue our
feelings and intentions. This may be more obvious in the case
of favoured children, who need help to accept that, whilst they
are indeed important, their siblings deserve our attention just as
much. The dynamics are different yet equally significant for less
favoured or ‘scapegoated’ children, who find the idea that they

are special and worthy of our attention alien. They, too, may have
no language through which to interpret our intentions towards
them: responding to positive attention with fear and becoming
subdued, or conversely ‘acting out’ to ‘stay safe’ and ‘let us know
they know’ they do not deserve it.
Another relevant issue is that of ‘parentified’ children. Older
children have often felt responsible and protective towards
younger siblings and continue to try to compensate for what they
now perceive as inadequate parental responses by attempting to
provide the care themselves. They may fear that if their siblings
misbehave, they will all be ‘sent away’. They may resist being
parented themselves and are likely to feel ‘displaced’ when we
assume the parental role for their siblings. The caring role they
assumed may have been the only way they obtained a sense of
self-worth: lacking the belief that parents could love them for
themselves as children, rather than as quasi-parents. While their
actions might superficially be seen as laudable, they can have
serious consequences for siblings placed together in new families.
Even children who had ‘good enough’ parenting experiences
lack the emotional maturity to meet the needs of other children;
traumatised children have far fewer resources to deal with the
pressures of daily life. Their compromised neurobiological and
socio-emotional development means our children are unlikely
to be able to offer their siblings sufficient positive ‘parenting’
experiences. Furthermore, children struggling to survive hostile
family environments can feel understandable resentment, or
contradictory feelings, towards their younger siblings: feelings
they may act out in their current relationships.
In new families, many ‘parentified’ children continue to act as
‘caregivers’ for their siblings, perhaps encouraging their siblings
to turn to them, rather than their new parents. They fear that their
siblings are at risk from adults in general, and feel an overwhelming
sense of shame when they perceive (however unjustified) that
their new parents have not fully understood their siblings’ needs.
Moreover, younger siblings unfamiliar with having their needs
met by adult caregivers often turn to elder siblings for support:

rejecting the role of their new parents and perpetuating early,
unhealthy attachment relationships. Altering these enmeshed
relationships can be a difficult process: we need to work hard to
prevent ‘parentified’ children from feeling ‘displaced’, ‘devalued’
or ‘shamed’, or increasing our ‘parented’ children’s fear-based
reactions to adult caregivers. These dynamics can pose particularly
difficult challenges for substitute caregivers since they have been
through intensive assessment and training processes focused on
their ability to be ‘good’ parents. These unexpected challenges can
undermine their confidence and intensify feelings of inadequacy
if the parenting they offer is rejected.
Since our children have not experienced a consistent secure
base and may have lived in families where attention to one child
meant loss or abandonment, encouraging close and supportive
sibling relationships can engender fear and inter-sibling
competition. With these beliefs and behaviours embedded in their
MN systems, hurt children view our interactions with them
and their siblings through a distorting prism. The ‘normal’ sibling
rivalry of securely attached sibling relationships is exacerbated
for children who had to ‘fight for survival’ in environments where
their needs were not met consistently.
Again it is its frequency, intensity, duration and meaning that
sets our children’s behaviour apart. In parenting siblings we must
therefore identify and meet each child’s needs individually whilst
simultaneously recognising the distressed relationships between
them. This can mean acting in counter-intuitive ways, for
example allowing one child to attend swimming lessons whilst
keeping the others at home for some one-to-one attention, since
they are not yet able to handle group situations or may ‘sabotage’
their siblings’ enjoyment. Similarly we may need to ensure that
children are not left together unsupervised, when bullying or
teasing may occur.
Allowing children to play together can lead to re-enactment of
early, traumatic sibling relationships, in turn limiting opportunities
for practising new ways of interacting, and reducing the
development of healthier MN circuits. Conversely, encouraging

children to play separately may increase their levels of anxiety
that neither they, nor their siblings, are safe. A sibling may
represent the only OP and secure base they have experienced;
playing separately they may lose sight of this, both visually and
emotionally; they may only see themselves in relation to their
siblings. Moreover, they may worry that siblings are being singled
out either for further abuse or more love and attention. We need
to work hard to recognise these feelings in our children and find
ways of helping them. We might, for example, encourage them
to play separately within the same room as us, joining in with
them alternately: perhaps encouraging them to build with Lego
separately, with a view to combining their constructions into a
‘family creation’. This parallel play can simultaneously alter MN
circuits and strengthen OP and OC.
Moreover, starting with short periods of time when children
play separately, alongside short periods of supervised play, we
should choose toys, games and activities that encourage their
sense of safety and security. Competitive games may not be
appropriate; often our children’s fragile self-esteem means they
cannot manage being ‘winners’ or ‘losers’, leading to increased
conflict; non-competitive games are frequently more appropriate.
Baking, making sand-barriers against the sea, digging ‘group
holes’, planting flowers, washing the car, tickling Mummy,
painting, gluing or sticking family pictures, putting up tents,
singing songs or listening to stories together can all provide
acceptable shared fun. Shared chores, such as fluffing up pillows
or picking up socks, can work and can be great fun if engaged in
light-heartedly and with limited expectations of standards!
Family picnics also offer opportunities of ‘doing it together’,
although we may need to pack each child’s food in separate
containers to minimise cries of ‘It’s not fair, they’ve got more
than me!’ Often trips to the cinema work well, as children tend
to focus more on the screen (and popcorn) than on each other, as
long as there are enough adults to sit between them. Eventually,
inventing games like ‘the-messiest-spaghetti-eater-wins’ can
introduce limited elements of competition that challenge

expectations, make taking part fun in itself, and even out chances
of ‘losing’. The ‘prize’ for everyone could then be a ‘group hug’.
Parenting our children equally does not always mean treating
them the same, since they all have distinct personalities, interests
and needs. We should resist knee-jerk responses of ‘it’s not fair’
from our children, recognising that we may never succeed, in
their view, in being fair to them! Instead we can offer messages
of empathy for their feelings while remaining equally attentive to
everyone’s needs and difficulties. We may also need to reassure
one sibling that another’s behaviour does not mean they will be
seen in the same light and give them repeated messages that they
are separate individuals with distinct needs. All this can feel like
sawing ourselves in half ! Where there are two, or more, caregivers
we need not spread ourselves so thinly: separate play and talking
spaces with separate adults, allowing us more readily to help
each child feel unique, valued and understood. However, we need
to use agreed ‘family rules’ to ensure our children experience a
consistent parenting approach.
Managing outside-the-home activities can also feel like an
impossible juggling act if we operate a ‘we’ll all do this together’ policy.
Whilst the logistics of taking children to separate activities, such
as swimming lessons, takes some organisation, the benefits can
be remarkable. Again, ‘being fair’ is clearly easier with more than
one caregiver available. Maybe one partner could take a child to
gym club whilst the other offers ‘aren’t-we-lucky-it’s-just-us’ time, at
home or elsewhere. Relatives and trusted friends can also provide
‘equal but different’ opportunities: each child experiencing ‘being
spoiled’ in their own space. Since grandparents often relish these
‘one-on-one’ times, and our children may behave better singly and
with non-parent-figures, this is definitely a ‘win-win’ situation!
Again, for consistency, and to reinforce OC , regular ‘family’
rules should apply, unless otherwise agreed.
We must also help our children recognise the feelings inherent
in their sibling relationships. By monitoring when situations are
approaching the point of disruption and stepping in early, we
can reduce negative sibling interactions. We can guard against

our children feeling ‘losers’ or ‘failures’ by ending play sessions
when they are still fun, so they still feel good about themselves
and each other. If our children can manage 15 minutes of safe
play together, we might allow them just five or ten minutes before
intervening and congratulating them on playing well. Allowing
play to go on too long until fights and arguments have started is
distressing to everyone and prevents children learning new ways
of interacting. Top-storey interventions can be introduced both
before and after sibling play sessions:
• Talking honestly and uncritically about our children’s
difficulties demonstrates empathy whilst helping them
cope better. These interactions work best when we (and our
children) are feeling relaxed and at ease, use the PARCEL
approach and hold in mind their histories.
• We might say: ‘I’ve noticed it’s hard for you to share with your
brother. I can understand that: when you lived in your birth family
you didn’t always get enough to eat. Perhaps we can practise some
sharing games, to help you begin to learn that there’s always enough
to go round.’
• If children struggle to share our attention we could reflect
that: ‘I’ve noticed it’s hard for you when I pay attention to your
sister. I wonder if you think I love her more? That makes sense: I’d
believe I wasn’t good enough if I’d been in five foster homes when
I was little. Let’s have some cuddles now and see whether this helps
you feel you’re very special to me, even when I’m helping your sister
with her homework.’
• Children need to be congratulated on how well they were
able to survive an unsafe environment: ‘You did so well looking
after yourself and your sister when your birth parents were fighting.
Now you’re here, let’s practise me looking after you and your sister.’
• We need to help our children ‘practise’ new messages: ‘Maybe now

you need help to learn that it’s safe for me to take care of you. I
wonder how I can help you know you’re just as special as your
sister?’
All these issues can be intensified where related children are placed
together yet had a different birth parent, differing experiences,
or perhaps entered our home at separate times. Moreover,
introducing traumatised children into our home is likely to unsettle
any existing children in the family: the traumatised children
reawakening memories of past distress in our more settled ones.
Without careful planning we are likely to have less time for our
established children, understandably feeling we need to prioritise
our new arrival. Suddenly the world becomes less predictable as
our established children seek to find ways to relate both to us
and their new sibling. These issues, faced by all birth parents of
second or subsequent babies to some degree, are magnified when
they involve children in ‘socially created’ families and further
intensified with neglected and abused youngsters.
Established children are likely to feel a sense of displacement,
while ‘new’ children must adjust to their new setting and share,
compete for or feel they must ‘earn’ attention. This reduces
their opportunities to feel special: an essential antidote to early
traumatic hurts, rejection and abandonment. If, additionally, our
existing children were placed separately from their birth siblings,
comparisons and feelings of divided loyalty can emerge, perhaps
alongside ‘the grass is greener syndrome’, where newly acquired
siblings are viewed less favourably than separated birth siblings.
Where some children have continued contact with birth family
members it can generate further ill feeling about adoptive siblings
or about themselves as ‘unlovable’ and anticipating rejection.
Holding this in mind, we can let our children know that we see
they struggle with these issues, validate their feelings and help
them make sense of them in terms of their differing past histories.
Introducing traumatised children into families with birth
children may superficially appear less complex. Our birth
children will be operating from a secure base, with healthy
neurobiological connections, including MN systems that reflect

the love and commitment they received from us; in most cases
they did not have significant breaks in their attachments. However,
difficulties can still emerge. Our born-to children are likely to
have been involved in the decision-making and assessment
processes and committed themselves to supporting us and their
adoptive siblings. Nevertheless, the reality of living with troubled
siblings is often very different from their expectations: perhaps
internalised from popular literature or peers. Having never
experienced children who express their underlying fears through
challenging behaviours, birth children can be ill-equipped to deal
with rudeness, aggression, lying, attention-seeking or withdrawal.
They may struggle to cope with their ‘bad’ feelings when siblings
break their favourite toys or ‘borrow’ precious items and then
‘lose’ them.
Born-to children may find it difficult to share their hurt and
angry feelings with us because they feel guilty about having them:
after all they agreed with the plan for adoption and recognise their
siblings have had a ‘rough deal’. They are likely to have a strong
sense of family loyalty and, not wishing to increase our burden
when they see us struggling with a traumatised child, feel unable
to talk about their anxieties and doubts. We must work hard
to demonstrate empathy for each of our children, giving them
‘permission’ to speak and ensuring that we meet their individual
needs with equanimity. This can itself pose problems for us when
we are already over-stressed and over-stretched: taking care of
ourselves may slip even further down our ‘to do’ list – to our
own, and the family’s, cost.
We must also consider our own sibling relationships and how
these may influence our expectations of siblings now. If we were
raised in healthily functioning families we will have experienced
sibling relationships very different from our hurt children’s. We
must be aware of, and reflect on, our own relationships and
the ways they differ from, or mirror, our children’s, to avoid
interpreting their relationship interactions through the lens of our
own experiences. If we had relatively positive sibling relationships
it can be difficult to see beyond ‘all children do that’. Should

we overlook, choose to ignore or minimise our ‘created’ siblings’
difficulties, we will be unable to provide appropriate opportunities
for repair and healing. If our sibling relationships were stressed, or
gender-biased, we must guard against inadvertently interpreting
our children’s relationships in this light. For example, if we were
teased or bullied by an older sibling, it may be harder for us to
empathise realistically with, and recognise the fear-based nature
of, children who act aggressively with their siblings, and hence
over- or under-react.
A further, unfortunately common, dimension can be that we
live in communities where there are different expectations and a
lack of understanding for families like ours. At school or within
our wider family and social networks our children will often be
encouraged to ‘look out for each other’ and be expected to share.
This may run counter to their best interests, since it replicates
the ‘parentified’ roles or ‘lack-of-enough-to-go-round beliefs’ we
are trying to alter. Furthermore, unwitting comparisons between
siblings made by ‘outsiders’ will negatively impact their sense
of self and self-worth: both of which are already likely to be
compromised. We may need to seek support to inform teachers,
friends and extended family about these issues, so they can
recognise our children’s special needs and help them devise ways
of dealing with them effectively.

See Appendix 2.
Chapter 17
Taking Care
of Ourselves
It goes with the territory that parents are expected to put their
children first, that our children’s needs should be prioritised and
ours sacrificed to theirs. On becoming parents we may have given
up activities we previously enjoyed and reduced our friendship
circle, in part due to these expectations and in part as a result of
lack of time or energy, or feelings that the pressures we face differ
from our friends’. This pattern is exaggerated when we take on
traumatised children whose needs far exceed those of born-to
children. It may therefore come as both a surprise and a relief
to learn that the central theme of this chapter is the importance
of prioritising our own and our partners’ needs. This is a natural
feature of evolution. In life-threatening circumstances, species
survival requires the prioritising of mothers over the unborn;
vulnerable youngsters are unlikely to make it if their source of
safety and nutrition is lost; poorly nourished or distressed parents
are less likely to raise healthy children.
Earlier we looked in depth at the neurobiological impact of
early trauma and considered how the development of babies’
brains is mediated by their experiences pre-birth and in their
first years. We argued that the brain is plastic: body–brain–mind
connections can be changed as a result of later experiences; this
principle underpins therapeutic, or developmental, reparenting of
245
hurt children. We now consider the potential impact on our own

bodies, brains and minds of living with traumatised children,
how our neurobiological patterns can be adversely affected due
to the secondary trauma of sharing our lives with them, and the
changes we can make to protect or improve our ‘wiring’. We can
begin by considering the expectations we had when we began
the adoption process. What sort of parents did we imagine we
would be? What experiences did we anticipate sharing with our
children? What were our expectations of how our children would
manage at home and school? How close are these expectations to
the reality of life with our children now?
If our expectations and reality are ‘out-of-synch’ we may
have feelings of failure, especially if our children’s behavioural
difficulties seem to have increased rather than diminished post
placement, or if we feel angrier or more helpless than we could
ever have imagined. If we feel out of control and on edge as
we await the next battle with our children, feel misunderstood
and blamed by friends, family and professionals and stressed in
our couple relationships, these emotions will be intensified and
reflected in increased stress neurochemicals such as cortisol. This,
in turn, affects our physical health and immune systems and
effects changes in our neurobiological systems. We can become
‘trauma-sensitised’: ‘hot-wired’ to respond at primarily bottom
and mid-storey levels rather than through (top-storey) mature
thinking and reasoning . While we may feel uncomfortable
accepting this, it is important to emphasise that these are normal
reactions to living with both acute and chronic stress.
For example, having money regularly taken out of our purse
may lead to our monitoring how much money we have and
remembering the location of the purse at every moment, ensuring
it has been hidden away from temptation. Increased distress
(including shame) follows when, despite our best efforts, money
still goes missing and we repeatedly go over whether money has
in fact disappeared or we spent it when shopping. Stress levels
increase further as we consider how and when to deal with this
issue. If we have several children we may have to determine who
Taking Care of Ourselves 247
took the money and work out how to be fair and reasonable. We
are likely to feel guilt and anger, blaming ourselves for failing to
keep our purse safe, to become anxious about our children’s visits
to friends’ homes and to worry where this pattern of stealing
might lead.
Dealing with such events on a regular, yet often inconsistent,
basis can lead to us feeling we are over-reacting or misjudging
our children. We are likely to feel we are constantly ‘walking on
eggshells’ and speaking to other adults about this might mean
they see our children as ‘bad’ or invite them less often. Moreover,
knowing that confronting the issue may lead to our children’s
denial, anger or withdrawal adds a further dimension of distress
when we may already be facing a myriad of other issues: school-
based difficulties, food and control issues, sleep problems. This
is a far cry from the ‘normal’ family life we visualised; yet is one
shared daily by many parents of traumatised children.
Living with this level of distress can lead to us becoming
permanently stressed: a concept often referred to as ‘secondary
trauma’. Conrad (2004, p.1) defines secondary trauma as ‘the
stress resulting from helping or wanting to help a traumatised
or suffering person’. He is clear that ‘empathic engagement can
lead to secondary trauma’ and that its development is prevalent in
those caring for traumatised children because ‘empathy is often the
most important tool foster parents bring to helping the children
in their care . Unfortunately, the more empathic they are, the
greater their risk for internalising the trauma of the children they
care for.’ In essence Conrad suggests that the better we are at
empathising with traumatised children the better we are able to
help them and the more likely we are to suffer secondary trauma.
Thus, rather than being a sign of poor parenting, or personal
weakness, secondary trauma is often indicative of good parenting
and that we need to be good to ourselves!
Having said that, it is important to identify any signs of
secondary trauma we may display and take action to address our
trauma issues sooner rather than later, for the sake of our own
health and wellbeing and that of the whole family. Children can
only make progress if parents model the change process; we must

have the courage to show we can face that challenge. By changing
first, not because we are necessarily ‘getting it wrong’ but because
it is always possible to change for the better, we improve our
children’s life-chances. We cannot do this if our stress levels and
sense of failure affect our self-view and our ability to parent our
children positively. For this reason, and because we deserve it, we
should instigate our process of change right away through taking
good care of ourselves.
We could begin by congratulating ourselves on the excellent
job we are doing as parents of traumatised children; repeating at
frequent intervals mantras such as ‘I’m a great parent and deserve
treats’. Since this may initially be difficult, try imagining a friend
in similar circumstances and considering the stresses she is facing.
Would we feel she has failed if at times she gets angry at having
every reasonable request challenged or would we empathise and
try to help? Would we blame her if she left her purse out, money
went missing and she felt crazy with worry? Would we think she
was a bad parent? Most of us are more understanding and forgiving
of our friends than we are of ourselves and would recognise that
they were doing their best in challenging situations. We should
practise empathising with and praising ourselves in the way we
would our friends, perhaps saying out loud ‘Well done me!’ after
remaining calm in dealing with challenges from our children. If
we do become angry or act in ways we later regret, try saying out
loud: ‘This is not the end of the world. I’ve been angry today, but
even my best friend would have been angry. I’m a good mum/dad
and will practise being less angry again tomorrow.’ To reinforce
this we could ask our partner or friends to remind us of what a
good job we are doing.
Putting notices that proudly state ‘I’m a great parent, doing a
tough job’ in places only we will see, such as on the inside door of
our wardrobe, or as wallpaper on our computer or mobile phone,
can help us feel better about ourselves. Repeating the message five
times daily will begin to alter our neurobiological patterns for
the better. This will help us feel better about ourselves and more
Taking Care of Ourselves 249
effective as parents, messages that will also convey to our children

that we feel empowered and in control. Looking in the mirror,
smiling and repeating positive messages about ourselves will alter
our neurobiological settings and MN firing whilst simultaneously
reminding us that we are good enough parents.
Alongside these simple practices we must find space and time
for ourselves, perhaps taking time when our children are at school
to do something for ourselves or to have a break from chores.
Thirty minutes’ light reading will be more beneficial for family
life than half an hour spent vacuuming or dusting! We could
phone friends and arrange to meet them for coffee or walks in
the park, endeavouring, of course, to talk about anything other
than children. We might just lie on the sofa and snooze! The
final poster in Appendix 1 offers several more ideas for taking
care of ourselves. Taking time to nurture our adult relationships
is equally important. If it is impossible to arrange a night out,
we could have a ‘night in’. Dressing up as we would for a night
out, ordering a meal to ensure we need not cook and agreeing
to discuss any interests other than parenthood will make us feel
better about ourselves and our partners or friends and promote
feelings that life has not been totally swamped by the stresses of
parenting. We should find lots of reasons to praise our partners
and ‘hear’ and practise thanking them when they praise us.
Alongside providing some rest and relaxation in our life,
it is important to consider our psychological and emotional
health: not only in the ‘here and now’ but also from a historical
perspective. We are all products of our past, and taking time to
reflect on situations with which we now struggle and exploring
how these reflect past experiences will be salutary. We could work
with our partner or trusted friend on this, although we may also
choose to engage in formal therapeutic work to help us address
any past issues that increase stress in ourselves and our family
now. Simultaneously we must hold on to the knowledge that we
are good enough and doing the best we can.
Try listing the behaviours in our children that cause us
particular angst alongside the messages these behaviours convey
to us. Then imagine the messages we might have received from

our parents had we acted the way our children are acting now.
Comparing and contrasting these messages and recognising the
differences and similarities between our experiences and theirs
allows us to see that the criteria by which we judge ourselves
as parents reflects how we were parented and may not be the
optimal way to parent our children, since our parenting patterns
may not match our children’s developmental attachment needs.
Summary
We need to take care of, and nurture, ourselves if we are to take
care of and nurture our families. Practise right now by saying out
loud ‘I am a great parent doing a brilliant job’ before putting this
book down and celebrating how amazing we are. Making sure
we have fun as we do so and reminding ourselves that we deserve
this because we are wonderful and creative human beings will
stand us in good stead to provide the understanding and care our
children need, survive the threat of secondary trauma and thrive
as therapeutic parents.

See Appendix 2.
Chapter 18
Getting Help
The mantra ‘It takes a village to raise a child’ acknowledges

that parenting is a difficult task, one that cannot be successfully
achieved alone. It becomes more challenging if family and
friends do not support our parenting approach and their
actions are critical of, or counter-productive to, our therapeutic
philosophy. Therefore getting help often involves accepting that
developmental reparenting principles fly in the face of many
social expectations and ‘normal’ parenting principles. Whilst
‘cognitive-behavioural’ approaches (CBT) involving ‘reward and
punishment’, ‘ignoring “bad” behaviour’ or using the ‘naughty
stair’ are frequently recommended to parents, they are seldom
effective with children whose development has been impacted
by early traumatic experiences (see Archer 2003) and can
reinforce their tendency to ‘become stuck’ (in their behaviour).
By reminding ourselves that family and friends are doing their
best and that they really do wish to understand how to help us,
we can begin the essential process of educating them about our
children’s special needs. This will allow us to explore with them
how our families can best be supported over the long term.
It is unlikely that members of our family, friends and
professional support networks will have the time or drive to read
this book thoroughly; we therefore need to offer them shorthand
ways of ‘getting it’. We could offer them comparisons between
the needs of traumatised and non-traumatised children using the
hand-out below (pp.255–258), and begin a dialogue about what
251
this means for our children. We can then assess which of our
family and friends are best placed to join our essential support
network. These will be the people from whom we might seek
child-minding, a shoulder to cry on, or an extra pair of hands
when the going gets tough. Even the friends who do not ‘get it’
can offer support. They may be able to meet us for coffee, or go for
walks, to help take our minds off our difficulties (avoiding child-
related issues). This can boost our self-esteem by reminding us
we have skills and talents outside our role as caregivers: especially
helpful when our children’s behaviour threatens our confidence
as parents.
We should use the same assessment criteria when seeking
professional support, although we may have to show great
courage and patience to hold out for what we need. Educating
professionals requires tact as well as commitment and time to
provide just the right level of information without appearing to
‘know it all’. We may also need to practise our ‘asking for help’
skills, since we may have always been the ones to whom others
turned for help in the past or are striving to prove we are ‘up to
the job’. Remember that asking for help is a sign of strength not
weakness; getting what we need is even more empowering.
Types of support
Support from people who understand
because they’ve ‘been there, done that’
Alongside support from family and friends we need to consider
ways of eliciting support from other parents of hurt children.
Adoption UK is an important source of support we could consider
contacting to discuss our individual support needs and to identify
local support groups in our area.
Specific support groups for difficulties, such as dyslexia,
dyspraxia, ADHD, autistic spectrum disorders and speech and
language disorders, may also feel appropriate.
Getting Help 253
Professional support
Since our children have special developmental attachment needs,
we should consider whether we, and they, might benefit from more
formal support from their placing agency, local Post Adoption
Support or Child and Family teams. Be aware that social work
practitioners within independent (and Local Authority) post-
adoption services are more likely to be aware of developmental
attachment issues than generic child and family workers. However,
access to the specialist support services our families need may still
be limited.
Additional support in school can prove invaluable, but it may
first be necessary to help school staff recognise our children’s
special needs by providing material specifically relating to schools
(see ‘Useful Webiste Contacts’ and ‘Particularly Relevant Book
Titles’ on p.281).
Therapeutic support
This can prove extremely helpful for our children if it is the right
sort of therapy. We might first discuss their needs with our doctor
or social worker. However, before agreeing to any therapeutic
intervention for our children, we need to assess its appropriateness.
Therapeutic interventions that exclude parents from the
therapeutic process and non-directive interventions that work
only with ‘what children bring into the room’ are unlikely to
be helpful (e.g. Vaughan 2003). Similarly, Cognitive Behavioural
Therapy (CBT) may only be of use in some cases (Siegel ithou.
org/node2730) since it addresses the top storey of the brain
to utilise top-down controls yet when they are most in need
of such controls hurt children are likely to be stuck in lower
storey sensori-emotional functioning. Moreover, children need
to feel that we are an integral part of the healing process and
can ‘hear’ and accept the worst parts of them. They also need
help to recognise what is going on for them and, with help from
us, explore their histories gradually if they are to heal from the
trauma that is interfering with their ability to form secure and
trusting relationships with us. To do this they will need a level of

security, support and encouragement only we can provide.
We need therapeutic supports that can ‘reach the parts others
cannot’: trauma- and attachment-focused therapy that preferably
includes an understanding of developmental neurobiology (van
der Kolk 2005; Siegel 2010b). Parent mentors and post-adoption
‘buddies’ e.g. through Adoption UK (see Resources) can add an
added dimension to our support system, the former providing us
with expert guidance using a developmentally based attachment
approach, the latter offering an in-the-know sounding board and
informal guide to managing our families and identifying further
supports.
Getting Help 255
Handout
Telling It Like It Is
Starting from the statement ‘All children do that’, friends and family
must recognise that while it’s true many children:
• steal
• tell lies
• ‘lose it’ sometimes
• fall out with friends
• have sibling rivalry issues
• argue about what shoes/clothes to wear to school
• suddenly decide they don’t like vegetables
• fight with their siblings
• feel ‘it’s not fair’.
It is the intensity, duration, frequency and intent that are different
in traumatised children. We can use ‘apples and onions’ to highlight
these differences: apples representing ‘neuro-typical’ children and
onions ‘trauma-normal’ children.
APPLE CHILDREN:
• trust parents love them
• know parents are ‘there for them’
• feel safe and secure
• feel comfortable in themselves and can return to their
‘comfort zone’
• know they are remembered
• know where ‘home’ is
• know they will be fed and cared for
• bounce back from temporary set-backs.


ONION CHILDREN:
• don’t trust parents and caregivers
• believe no-one is ‘there for them’
• feel the world is unsafe
• have fear and anxiety as their ‘default setting’
• do not feel ‘held in mind’
• are unsure where or what home is
• are not certain they will be fed and cared for
• struggle to get over everyday ‘ups and downs’.
APPLE CHILDREN:
• tend to be sweet
• easily show and heal from their bruises
• have core belief systems consistent with the world around
them
• develop self-assurance and self-worth
• become increasingly able to regulate their emotions and
behaviours over time
• have feelings and thoughts consistent with their bodily
sensations, emotions and current experiences
• experience appropriate guilt for what they do
• internalise social expectations and learn to modify their
behaviour accordingly.
ONION CHILDREN:
• can be sharp, bitter or bitter-sweet
• tend to hide their hurts or wear them ‘on their skin’
• perceive the world from fear-based belief systems
• have little self-belief or self-worth
 Copyright © Caroline Archer and Christine Gordon 2013

Getting Help 257
• struggle to regulate their bodies, feelings and behaviours

• often react from the past not the present
• respond with shame rather than guilt
• tend not to learn from experience and persist with
inappropriate ‘survival’ responses.
IMPLICATIONS:
All children need to feel safe, secure and loved. Without
that secure base they often resist closeness and seem at
odds with the world.
APPLE CHILDREN had parents who provided:

• consistent nurture that met their needs
• firm structure that helped them feel safe
• regulation of their body responses to promote regulation
of their feelings
• help to develop a coherent sense of themselves and their
world.
ONION CHILDREN had parents who failed to do this, or did so
inconsistently. They therefore struggle with:
• close relationships and accepting help
• taking care of themselves and staying safe
• physical and emotional self-regulation
• self-awareness, self-control and self-esteem.
THERAPEUTIC PARENTS OF ONION

CHILDREN NEED:
• friends, family and professionals who understand the impact
of trauma on children and adults


• support and encouragement both informally and from

professionals and experienced mentors or ‘buddies’ who
have ‘been there’
• recognition that they are doing their best in very difficult
situations
• practical support: childcare; understanding; a shoulder to cry
on; someone to share problems with and laugh with
• space to relax and take care of themselves and their
relationships
• access to effective therapeutic supports, individually and as
a family.
SOMEONE WHO SAYS:

• ‘I know how hard it is for you.’
• ‘You’re doing your best.’
• ‘What can I do to help?’
NOT:
• ‘You’re worrying too much.’
• ‘All children do that.’
• ‘It’s just a phase.’

Appendix 1
Posters to Print
259
Anger Poster
When you’re angry you get lots of a chemical called adrenalin in your
body. This makes it hard to think well and make good decisions. Here are
some ways you can get rid of angry feelings and adrenalin.
• Squeeze a bean bag
• Run around outside
• Try to accept there are things you can’t do
• Jump up and down 20 times
• Do 20 sit-ups
• Punch a pillow
• Write down your feelings
• Tear up paper and think (or shout) about what makes you angry
• Blow up a balloon with an angry thought with every puff. Then
punch it until you get rid of your anger or burst it to explode your
anger (or both)
• Jump on a trampoline. Start jumping really high and fast and then
slow down and jump lower until your anger is gone
• Run around the garden until you feel calmer
• Deep breathing can really help
• Look at your family poster
• Try to remember that anger is really about being scared
• Try to figure out whether the anger is about now or about feelings
from the past
• Try to remember that Mum and Dad love you even when they
say no
• Try to remember that you are special and deserve to be happy
• Ask Mum or Dad for a hug. I bet they can help you feel calm when
you’re not able to do this for yourself.
Mum and Dad have lots of other good ideas to get rid of adrenalin. They
can help you if you ask. If you have too much adrenalin in your body to
remember to ask Mum or Dad to help you, they will help to remind you.

Appendix 1 261
Muir Family Plan
If Pete gets this is our plan.
Mum will take Flo upstairs to keep her safe and we will have a
then we’ll put cream on and Mum will put nail polish
on Flo. Then we can watch telly from Mum’s bed .
Dad will ask Pete to try his jumps and then cuddle Pete. Dad will
keep cuddling Pete until he feels safe and not angry. Then Pete and
Dad and maybe Mum can talk , wonder why Pete was angry
and try and find ways to help Pete feel happy .
We can all then go to sleep because we all love each other
sooooooooooooooooooo much.


Create the Spirit of Christmas
Create a calm family atmosphere by following these rules.

Have a hype-free Christmas by reducing visitors and activities to a
minimum: our children don’t cope well with surprises, change and
excitement, experiencing these as threats to their wellbeing.
Remind family and friends of our children’s special emotional needs and
ask them to help co-create a stress-free Christmas.
Inappropriate presents: how many of the toys received last year were still
in one piece by Boxing Day? Give inexpensive presents and reduce the
number of gifts to those children can easily manage. Spread them out over
several days if the child will manage this better.
Simple: Keep it simple. Remember: Boring is best.
Tradition: Create a family tradition to keep year on year. This gives children
a sense of stability, continuity and belonging, especially if they are involved
in the choice of the ‘tradition’. Tell friends and family about this when they
visit and encourage children to talk about it too.
Make time for ourselves. We need to pace ourselves and make sure we
have time for ourselves and our partners. Children and guests will survive
frozen vegetables!
Accept and acknowledge children’s difficulties with understanding and
empathy. Their behaviour might feel like a deliberate attempt to reject
our love; in fact it’s based on fear of abandonment and lack of self-worth.
They are doing the best they can.
Success (or at least less dis-Stress) is likely if we follow these rules. Have a
peaceful and happy Christmas!

Appendix 1 263
Suggestions for Taking Care of Ourselves
• Buy ourselves a bunch of flowers.

• Take time to sit down with a book and a cup of tea.
• Play our favourite piece of music. Use it to alter our mood: rousing
music if we need to let off steam; quiet, calm music to relieve
stress.
• Go for a walk. Find a special place to let go of our feelings safely. A
windy wood or sea in a storm can resonate with feelings of anger
and allow us to shout and scream out frustrations unnoticed.
• Start swimming: it’s an excellent way of relaxing.
• Take a long bath, adding soothing essential oils.
• Arrange to have an aromatherapy massage.
• Get in touch with friends and fix a night out with them – ban
talking about children.
• Plan a meal out with our partner – or dine ‘in’ if childcare is difficult.
• Write positive messages on ‘Post-its’, such as ‘I am a good enough
parent’, and place these around the house to remind us of our
special qualities.
• Find ways of having fun and laughing. We live in a stressful
environment and need to release some of the stress. Laughter
is an excellent way of discharging adrenalin and cortisol, releasing
serotonin, and improving our all-round health.
These are just a few suggestions for nurturing ourselves: we should adopt
ways that suit us and our lifestyles best. It’s really important to set aside time
at least weekly to do something for ourselves; better still, do something
daily. Even taking 15 minutes for ourselves can have very positive effects.
Try hard not to think about the children, or indeed any problems, during
this self-nurturing time. This may require practice!
Protect the time we lay aside for ourselves. Don’t let anything short of an
emergency intrude on this precious space.


Appendix 2
Check In and Check
Out Outline

• Check out how we feel physically, emotionally, cognitively.
• Identify whether we are functioning primarily from our
bottom, middle or top-storey brain, sensing whether we
are breathing too quickly, feeling too hot or cold, hungry,
thirsty or wobbly. Explore our feelings, observing whether
we are upset, angry, powerless or scared.
• Using our awareness of ‘top down’ controls, make
conscious efforts to re-regulate ourselves from the bottom
up. Adjusting our breathing, nurturing ourselves, dealing
with our feelings sensibly, we can ‘switch on’ our thinking
brain circuits.

• Experiment with the facial expressions, gestures, tone of
voice and words that feel most comfortable to us.
• Practise making these with partners or friends, checking
out the feelings this generates in them and in us.
264
Appendix 2 265
• Try out these exercises both when we feel relaxed and

when we feel stressed, to get a feel for how our reactions
vary depending on our circumstances.
• Take into consideration our unique family circumstances,
such as whether we are on our own or whether we have
other children who may also need our help during times
of stress.
• Establish ways of getting some additional help if we, or
our other children, need it. Test these out in non-stressful
situations.

• Observe how our children ‘make’ us feel, physically and
emotionally, think and react, when we ‘tune in’ to them.
• Check ourselves out again, in case we need to re-regulate
and reconnect ourselves once more.
• Use the information we gain from ‘tuning into’ our children
to work out whether they are mostly functioning out of
their bottom, middle or top-storey brains and where
their ‘loose connections’ lie.
• Use what we know about bottom-up development to
identify where our children most need our help. If in doubt,
start at the bottom and work up.
• Remind ourselves of our children’s early histories to gain
insights into their disconnections and resultant perceptions,
expectations and behaviours.
• Integrate this awareness to identify where they most need
our help.
• Find healthy ways of connecting with our children and
‘retuning’ them to our better-regulated neurobiological
systems (co-regulating), to help them become more able to
regulate, organise and make connections internally.
• Remind ourselves that we are the experts on our children

and are best placed to create the best ‘knitting patterns’ for
them.
• Be aware of potentially difficult situations and be prepared
to deal with them. Having a well-rehearsed plan can
sometimes be enough to reduce the likelihood of difficulties
arising.

• ‘Notice’ our children and let them know we have noticed
them – smiling, winking, waving, laughing with them,
hugging, ‘high-fiving’, giving the ‘thumbs up’, chatting,
singing, rocking, bouncing (the list is endless!).
• Comment on what you see or feel they are feeling and
doing: ‘I can see…’ – being careful to avoid sounding
critical or that we are laughing at them.
• If we cannot see them, ‘check in’ verbally from time to
time – a ‘quick’ call is enough to reconnect . With older
children, a short text, ‘smiley’ icon or photo could be good.
• Show interest in our children and in what interests them.
This is a vital tool in helping them to feel connected and to
gain a sense of self-competence and self-worth.
• Shared attention is essential to the development of inter-
communication: encouraging this need not be obvious.
• Suggest shared activities – and have fun!
• Devise games that ‘accidentally’ create opportunities to
interact. Play is the ideal environment for connecting,
learning, reducing fear and increasing feelings of security
and comfort.
• Once we are comfortable with these ‘tweaks’ to our
parenting interactions in ‘normal circumstances’, identify
Appendix 2 267
one or two ‘tricky’ situations where we might try them out

with our children.

• Take time to assess the situation and how best to approach
it.
• ‘Think toddler’ – working out our children’s functional age
at that moment and treating them as we would a child of that
age. If in doubt, go lower.
• ‘Think hurt animal’ – checking out their current emotional
state and adjusting our ‘approach’ accordingly.
• Attempt to make some eye contact whilst staying aware of
our children’s difficulties in this area; on the other hand,
do not force eye, or physical, contact, as either may trigger
fight, flight, freeze or shame reactions.
• Provide simple, loving, accepting, verbal messages to
accompany simple, loving, accepting, non-verbal messages
through our eyes, facial expressions and body language.
• Speak calmly and gently, showing acceptance of our
children for who and what they are at that moment, staying
aware that they are so sensitised to perceived threat and
shame that we may inadvertently trigger powerful, negative
responses by ‘looking too hard’.
• Meet our children’s basic nurturing needs, for example
through cuddles, shared stories or TV programmes, snacks.
‘Sharing, caring time’ simultaneously encourages calming,
‘feel good’ neurochemical messengers such as oxytocin,
endorphins, serotonin and dopamine to circulate.
• Suggest physical activities we have previously identified
that work for our children to help them burn off over-
arousing biochemical messengers, such as cortisol and
adrenalin, circulating through their bodies. Nervous energy
has to go somewhere, and introducing regular ‘burn-off

sessions’ can begin to ‘rewire’ trigger-happy systems. Join
in or be ‘the coach’.
• ‘Read’ what we ‘see’ and empathise, gradually use our own
bodies and expressions to co-regulate our children and alter
the emotional climate for the better.
• Initially, match our communications to what we ‘read’
before moving children ‘up’ or ‘down’ the arousal scale
and, once in their ‘comfort zone’, into their top-storey
thinking brain.
• Extend what we have seen to other difficult situations.
Appendix 2 269
Healing early trauma and developmental

attachments using therapeutic parenting
RELATE
REGULATE
REFLECT
REHEARSE
REPAIR
REWIRE
RESILIENCE


Glossary
Adrenalin – neurochemical messenger (neurotransmitter) produced by adrenal

glands in response to stress which prepares individual for fight or flight.
Amygdala (plural: amygdalae) – area of mid-storey brain (limbic system)
important for processing emotion, including pre and non-verbal memories.
Right hemisphere develops more dynamically than left.
Attachment – enduring shared relationship created between individuals.
Since human infants are unable to care for themselves, attachment facilitates
physical survival. It is also the matrix for emotional, social and intellectual
development, leading to health, resilience and wellbeing.
Attachment-trauma – impact of early adversity, such as distressed or
disrupted intrafamilial relationships, affecting attachment and neurobiological
development.
Attunement – process of getting in touch (in synch) with another’s sensations
and feelings and resonating, or empathising, with them.
Autistic spectrum disorder (ASD) – neurobiologically-based disorder
characterised by poor integration, social awareness and ‘mindreading’
capacities.
Autonomic nervous system (ANS) – part of nervous system; consisting
of network of glands producing neuro-hormones, which is responsible
for involuntary responses such as fight, flight and freeze. Characterised in
trauma-normal children by high arousal (sympathetic NS) and/or low arousal
(parasympathetic NS).
Biofeedback loops – inter-connectivity of neuronal and neurochemical
messengers, where each can influence the functions of the other.
Brainstem – developmentally one of the ‘oldest’ parts of the brain, regulating
basic bodily functions such as heart rate, respiration, body temperature, sleep
and elimination.
Broca’s area – the area of the brain primarily responsible for
expressive language.
270
Glossary 271
Central nervous system (CNS) – system of neuron and neural networks

linking the brain to every part of the body.
Coherent narrative – explicit memories (stored in hippocampi) that can be
accessed, recalled and interpreted in a consistent, sequential, organised manner,
creating a ‘self-story’.
Corpus callosum – the ‘white matter’ connecting the right and left
hemispheres of the brain.
Cortisol – neuro-hormone that allows individual to respond to stress,
including immune functions. In moderation, cortisol releases energy within
the body and promotes healing. Excess cortisol due to chronic stress can lead
to the destruction of nerve cells and connections and adversely affects long-
term health.
Dance of attachment – active, synchronous inter-relationship between
parent and child creating reciprocity and mutual feedback.
Developmental trauma disorder (DTD) – diagnosis proposed by van der
Kolk et al. to define more accurately the altered neurobiology and constellation
of symptoms resulting from early attachment-trauma.
Disorganised attachment patterns – dysfunctional attachment patterns,
normally resulting from early childhood maltreatment, that adversely affect
developmental neurobiology and interfere with the capacity to form healthy
relationships. Typified by states of high arousal, dissociative responses, poor
ability to self-regulate or to use caregivers to provide co-regulation. There is a
high correlation between disorganised attachment patterns in childhood and
serious adult mental health problems.
Dissociation – lack of connection between senses, emotions, awareness,
behaviour and memories; occurs on a continuum and can be partial or total.
Dopamine – ‘feel good’ neurotransmitter that enhances glucose uptake which
stimulates neural growth in the prefrontal cortex and so promotes top-down
controls, positive expectations and wellbeing.
Dysregulation – disturbance in ability to monitor and modulate
neurobiological arousal.
Emotional literacy – capacity to identify, ‘read’ and make sense of one’s own
feelings that enables individual to identify, ‘read’ and make sense of others’
emotions.
Empathy – the ability to get in tune with, or share, another’s sensations,
emotions, thoughts or needs.
Endorphins – internally produced opioid compounds released into the blood

stream to create sense of wellbeing or as natural analgesic.
Hippocampus (plural: hippocampi) – area of mid-storey limbic brain involved
with verbal memory formation, storage and retrieval. Greater development
occurs in left hemisphere of brain; comes ‘on line’ at three years plus.
Internal working models (IWMs) – internalised ‘road maps’ of self, others
and ‘how they work’: affecting perceptions, expectations and responses.
Limbic system – ‘mid-storey’ areas of brain associated with attachment,
emotional connections and memory (both non-verbal and verbal).
Mirroring – act of attuning to, and reflecting back, another’s sensations,
emotions or thoughts. In doing so parents provide awareness and insights for
their children that enable them to make sense of themselves and others.
Neo-cortex – most recently evolved area of the brain that enables reflection,
social communication, language development, ‘top down’ controls, decision-
making and inter-personal negotiation.
Neural networks – complex connections between neurons in the brain and
central nervous system.
Neuro-biochemicals – chemical ‘messengers’ that carry information around
the brain and nervous system (both CNS and ANS).
Neurobiological – relating to the structure and function of the brain and
nervous system.
Neurodevelopment – sequential formation and inter-connection of nervous
systems and brain according to experience: with developmental ‘windows’
providing opportunities for optimal maturing and healthy development.
Neuro-hormones – neuro-biochemicals carrying information within the
brain and nervous system.
Neurophysiological – relating to the functioning of the nervous systems,
rather than to their structure.
Neuroplasticity – ability of neural networks to create new connections and
hence ‘fill in the gaps’ in terms of physical, emotional, social and intellectual
functioning.
Neurotypical – Cartwright and Morgan (2008) use this term rather than
‘normal’ to remind readers that ASD children have underlying neurobiological
difficulties. It is used here for similar reasons: to distinguish betweeen ‘normal’
children and those whose neuro-development has been affected by attachment
trauma.
Glossary 273
Orbito-prefrontal cortex (OFC) – provides vital neurobiological connections

between the brainstem and limbic area and the neo-cortex, or top-storey
‘thinking brain’. Right hemisphere is dominant in the earliest years of life.
Oxytocin – the ‘altruistic’ neuro-hormone. Promotes caregiving in mothers,
bonding between individuals and pleasurable feelings.
Regulation – ability to monitor, sustain or return to ‘normal’ comfortable
levels of physical, emotional and cognitive arousal. Infants and young children
are unable to self-regulate and depend on primary caregivers to help them
develop self-regulation through repeated, consistent co-regulation.
Sensori-motor – sensations, perceptions and responses relating to the body
and/or movement.
Serotonin – ‘feel good’ neuro-messenger (neurotransmitter). Excess cortisol
(due to stress) reduces serotonin levels, which in turn are associated with
aggressive behaviour.
Stress – the demands and pressures of daily living are essential to healthy life.
Healthy individuals have the capacity to ‘bounce back’, to get back in balance,
once the immediate stress recedes or is dealt with. However, excessive or
chronic stress overwhelms the system and makes recovery problematic: stress
responses become normalised (trauma-normal).
Transitional object (TO) – tangible item (such as a teddy) that represents
the caregiver and can provide security and comfort to child during periods of
anxiety and separation.
Toxic stressors – can be chemical (e.g. tobacco, alcohol, toxic metals),
adverse events (e.g. hospitalisation) or inter-personal (e.g. loss of, or breaks in,
significant relationships).
Trauma – an ‘injury’ to body, brain or mind due to excessive stress. The
lasting distress of abandonment, loss, maltreatment and lack of ‘containment’
of affect in the early years adversely affects neurobiological development and
therefore ongoing perceptions, responses and relationships.
Trauma-normal – describes individuals whose neurobiology is geared to
anticipate and react to perceived threat (see ‘Stress’ above).
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Perry, A. (2009) Teenagers and Attachment: Helping Adolescents Engage with Life and Learning.
London: Worth Publishing. (Including chapters by Bomber, L.M., Hughes, D.A. and
Batmanghelidjh, C.)
Porges, S.W. (1997) ‘Emotion: An Evolutionary Bi-product of the Neural Regulation of the
Autonomic Nervous System.’ In C. Carter, B. Kirkpatrick and I. Lederhendler (eds)
The Integrative Neurobiology of Affiliation. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 807,
62–77.
Porges, S.W. (2011) The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment,
Communication, and Self-regulation. New York: W.W. Norton & Co.
Reebye, P. and Stalker, A. (2008) Understanding Regulation Disorders of Sensory Processing in
Children. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Rizzolatti, G., Fogassi, L. and Gallese, V. (1997) ‘Parietal cortex: From sight to action.’
Current Opinion in Neurobiology 7, 562-567.
Rizzolatti, G. and Sinigaglia, C. (2007) Mirrors in the Brain: How Our Minds Share Actions and
Emotions. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Roth, I. (2010) The Autism Spectrum in the 21st Century: Exploring Psychology, Biology and Practice.
London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Row, S. (2005) Surviving the Special Needs System. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Sanefuji, W., Wada, K., Yamamoto, T., Shizawa, M., et al. (2011) ‘One-month-old infants show
visual preference for human-like features.’ Letters on Evolutionary Behavioral Science 1, 5–8.
Schore, A. (1994) Affect Regulation and the Origin of the Self. Hillsdale, NJ: Laurence Erlbaum
Associates.
References 277
Schore, A. (2001a) ‘Effects of a secure attachment on right brain development, affect

regulation, and infant mental health.’ Infant Mental Health Journal 22, 7–61.
Schore, A. (2001b) ‘The effects of early relational trauma on right brain development affect
regulation, and infant mental health.’ Infant Mental Health Journal 22, 201–269.
Shemmings, D. and Shemmings, Y. (2011) Understanding Disorganized Attachment. London:
Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Siegel, D., (1999) The Developing Mind: Towards a Neurobiology of Interpersonal Experience. New
York and London: Guilford Press.
Siegel, D. and Hartzell, M. (2004) Parenting from the Inside Out. New York, NY: Tarcher.
Siegel, D. (2007) The Mindful Brain. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Co.
Siegel, D. (2010a) Mindsight. Oxford: Oneworld Publications.
Siegel, D. (2010b) The Mindful Therapist. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company.
Siegel, D. Mindfulness, Psychotherapy and the Brain. Available at www.ithou.org, accessed on 13
November 2012.
Social Exclusion Unit. Available at www.socialexclusion.gov.uk, accessed on 27 November
2012.
Solomon, J. and George, C. (1999) ‘The place of disorganization in attachment theory:
Linking classical observations with contemporary findings.’ In J. Solomon and C.
George (eds) Attachment Disorganization. New York and London: The Guilford Press.
Spangler, G. and Grossman, K. (1999) ‘Individual and Physiological Correlates of
Attachment Disorganization in Infancy.’ In J. Solomon and C. George (eds) Attachment
Disorganization. New York: Guilford Press.
Trevarthen, C. (1979) ‘Communication and cooperation in early infancy: A description of
primary intersubjectivity’. In M Bullowa (ed) Before Speech. London and Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Trevarthen, C. (2001) ‘Intrinsic motives for companionship in understanding: Their origin,
development, and significance for infant mental health.’ Infant Mental Health Journal 22,
95–131.
Tronick, E., Adamson, L.B., Als, H. and Brazelton, T.B. (1975) ‘Infant emotions in normal
and perturbated interactions.’ Presented at The Biennial Meeting of the Society for
Research in Child Development: Denver CO.
Troxel W. Marriage and Sleep Study, In the Daily Mail. Available at http//:www.sleep.patt.
edu/, accessed on 12 June 2012).
Van Gulden, H. (2005) In Search of Self: Helping Children Heal. After Adoption Training
Programme: Newport, UK.
Van Gulden, H. (2010) Adoption fostering BAAF: YouTube:
Van Gulden, H. Introduction to: Object Permanence and Constancy. Available at http://
youtube.com/watch?v=bd1-APMTiFY, accessed on 13 November 2012.
Van Gulden, H. So What is Permanence? Available at http://youtube.com/
watch?v=r270CJEOo0&, accessed on 13 November 2012.
Van Gulden, H. Building Object Permanence. Available at http://youtube.com/
watch?v=gxEsGFQuM78, accessed on 13 November 2012.
Van Gulden, H. Permanence 5 What Are the Symptoms of a Lack of Permanence? Available
at http://youtube.com/watch?v=IVtjoJsO&fe, accessed on 13 November 2012.
Van Gulden, H. Parts Talk - Language to Build Object Constancy. Available at http://
youtube.com/watch?v=_r270XCJEOoO, accessed on 13 November 2012.
Van Gulden, H. Common Symptoms of Lack of Object Constancy. Available at http://
youtube.com/watch?v=jgSK2abOBrU, accessed on 13 November 2012.
Van der Kolk, B. A. ‘Developmental trauma disorder’ (2005) Psychiatric Annals (2005 pp
401-408.
Vaughan, J. (2003) ‘Rationale for the intensive programme’. In C. Archer and A. Burnell
(eds) Trauma, Attachment and Family Permanence. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Winnicott, D.W. (1958) ‘Primary Maternal Preoccupation.’ In Collected Papers, Through
Paediatrics to Psychoanalysis, 300–305.
Winnicott, D.W. (1965) The Maturational Processes and the Facilitating Environments: Studies in the
Theory of Emotional Development. London: Hogarth Press.
Young Minds. Available at www.youngminds.org.uk/training_services/young_minds_in_
schools/welbeing/attachment, accessed on 27 November 2012.
YouTube (2012) Permanency and Constancy: Introduction. Described by Holly van Gulden.
Available at http://youtube.com/watch?v=bd1-APMTiFY.
Selection of Useful Books for
Children
(Relating to Object Permanence and Constancy, Faces, Bodies

and Feelings)
Carle, E. (1997) From Head to Toe. London: Picture Puffin.
Carle, E. (1998) The Mixed-up Chameleon. London: Picture Puffin.
Carle, E. (2002) The Very Hungry Caterpillar. London: Puffin.
Carle, E. (2006) Mister Seahorse. London: Picture Puffin.
Carle, E. (2009) The Foolish Tortoise. London: Simon & Schuster Children’s.
Carle, E. (2010) The Bad-tempered Ladybird. London: Puffin.
Fordham, J. (2001) Faces. London: Macmillan Children’s Books.
Hill, E. (1983) Where’s Spot? Harmondsworth: Puffin Books.
Hill, E. (2009) Spot Bakes a Cake. London: Warne.
Hill, E. (2010) Spot Goes to the Farm. Harmondsworth: Puffin Books.
Hill, E. (2011) Spot Goes to the Park. Harmondsworth: Puffin Books.
Handford, M. (2011) Where’s Wally? The Totally Essential Travel Collection. London: Walker
Books.
Handford, M. (2012) Where’s Wally? The Search for the Lost Things. London: Walker Books.
Large, J. (2001) Pets. London: Macmillan Children’s Books.
Large, J. (2001) Farm. London: Macmillan Children’s Books.
McKee, D. (2005) Mr Benn: The Complete Series. (DVD)
Mckee, D. (2009) The Extraordinary Adventures of Mr Benn. London: Hodder Children’s Books.
Milne, A.A. and Shepard, E.H. (2009) The House at Pooh Corner. London: Egmont Books Ltd.
Moran, P. (2011) Where’s the Meerkat? London: Michael O’Mara Books.
Moran, P. (2012) Meerkat on Holiday. London: Michael O’Mara Books.
Parr, T. London: Little Brown Young Readers.

Things That Make You Feel Good (2001)
My Book About Me (2003)
The Okay Book (2004)
We Belong Together: A Book for Adoptive Families (2008)
It’s OK to Be Different (2009)
The Feelings Book (2009)
Feelings Flashcards (2010)
The Underwear Book (2012)
Ross, T. London: Harper Collins Books.

I Want My Mummy (2006)
I Want My Dummy (2007)
279
I Want My Light On (2008

I Want My Tooth) (2009)
I Want a Sister (2010)
Rowe, J. Selection from ‘Lift the Flap’ series:

Guess Who? (2010) London: Five Mile Press.
Guess What? (2010) London: Five Mile Press.
Whose Feet? (2000) London: Southwood Books.
Whose House (2001) London: Southwood Books.
Whose Tail? (2001) London: Southwood Books.
Whose Nose? (2005) London: Happy Cat Books.
Whose Poo? (2005) London: Happy Cat Books.
Whose Teeth? (2005) London: Southwood Books.
Sendak, M. (2000) Where the Wild Things Are. UK: Red Fox.
Essential Resources
Useful Website Contacts

Adoption, Attachment Issues and Your School. Available at: www.postadoptioncentralsupport.org.
Attachment, Developmental Trauma and Executive Functioning Difficulties in the School Setting.
Available at www.familyfutures.co.uk.
Brain Gym. Available at www.braingym.org.uk.
Caspari Foundation for Educational Therapy and Therapeutic Teaching. Helps children, young
people and families cope with barriers to learning and therapeutic input into schools.
Available at www.caspari.org.uk.
Offers an Attachment Support Service for schools including assessments, consultations, therapy and
training. Available at www.theyellowkite.co.uk.
Social Exclusion Unit. Available at www.socialexclusion.gov.uk.
Young Minds. Offers strategies to be implemented in schools to support attachment. Available
at www.youngminds.org.uk/training_services/young_minds_in_schools/welbeing/
attachment.
Particularly Relevant Book Titles

Bomber, L.M. (2007) Inside I’m Hurting. London: Worth Publishing.
Bomber, L.M. (2011) Inclusive Strategies to Support Pupils with Attachment Difficulties Make it
Through the School Day. London: Worth Publishing.
Cartwright, A. and Morgan, J. (2008) The Teaching Assistant’s Guide to Autistic Spectrum
Disorders. London: Continuum.
Koomar, J, Kranowitz, C,S., Szklut, S. (2004) Answers to Questions Teachers Ask About Sensory
Integration. Las Vegas (NV): Sensory Resources LLC
Perry, A. (2009) Teenagers and Attachment: Helping Adolescents Engage with Life and Learning.
London: Worth Publishing. (Including chapters by Bomber, L.M., Hughes, D.A. and
Batmanghelidjh, C.).
Row, S. (2005) Surviving the Special Needs System. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
281
UK organisations
Adoption UK
Provides information and support in the areas of
adoption attachment and developmental trauma.
Linden House
55 The Green
South Bar Street
Banbury OX16 9AB
Office open Monday to Friday, 9am–5pm
Tel: 01295 752240; Fax: 01295 752241
Email: [email protected]
Adoption UK Wales/Cymru
Penhavad Studios
Penhavad Street
Grangetown
Cardiff CF11 7LU
Helpline open Monday to Friday, 11am–1pm: 02920 232221
General telephone enquiries/callers – Monday to
Friday, 10am–4pm: 02920 230319
Email: [email protected]; [email protected]
Adoption UK (Scotland)
172 Leith Walk
Edinburgh EH6 5EA
Helpline: 0844 848 7900
Tel: 0131 555 5350
Adoption UK (NI)
545 Antrim Road
Belfast BT15 3BU
Tel: 02890 775211
Fostering Network
Provides information about attachment and fostering.
Advice lines:
Wales – 0800 316 7664
Scotland – 0141 204 1400
Northern Ireland – 028 9070 5056
England – 0800 040 7675
Essential Resources 283
British Agencies for Adoption and Fostering

Saffron House
6-10 Kirby Street
LONDON EC1N 8TS
Tel: 0207 421 2600
www.BAAF.org
Attachment Network Wales

(Rhwydwaith Ymlyniad Cymru)
Facilitates multi-disciplinary collaboration within the field of
attachment, provides information and education on attachment-
related issues and lobbies for positive changes to social,
mental health and educational policies within Wales.
www.attachmentwales.org
Tel: 02920 230319
Scottish Attachment in Action

A multi-professional group committed to promoting better
experiences of attachment in the Scottish population and effecting
positive changes in social policy, education and mental health.
www.saia.org.uk
National Autistic Society

Monday to Friday: 0845 070 4004; parent-to-parent line: 0800 9520
National Autistic Society Wales

Membership: 01792 815915
British Dyslexia Association

Unit 8 Bracknell Beeches
Old Bracknell Lane
Bracknell RG12 7BW
Helpline: 0845 251 9002
Sensory Integration Network

27a High Street
Theale
Berkshire RG7 5AH
Tel: 0118 324 1588
International links (general)

Australia
www.adopting.org. Follow links to adoption/issues in adoption
www.adoption.org. Follow links to adoptions/attachment
www.adopting.org. Follow links to early intervention
www.attachmentparentingaustralia.com/support.htm
www.bensoc.au/post adoption
www.community.nsw.gov.au
Canada
www.adoption.ca
www.canadaadopts.com. Follow links to canada/resources
www.canadianadoption.com. Follow links to canada
New Zealand
www.cyf.govt.nz. Follow links to adoption/post adoption support
www.adopting.org. Follow links to early intervention
www.dyslexia-parent.com
USA
www.asa-usa.org
(Provides support services for military families.)
www.attach.org
(Professionally led international organisation promoting awareness of attachment
issues and treatment choices for children and families. Email: [email protected])
Index
adolescents birthdays 213–17

neurobiological development in 47–52 Bomber, L.M. 31, 44, 104, 131, 187
aggressive behaviour 182–4, 187–91 Bowlby, J. 10, 30, 32
Anda, R.F. 58 brain division 35–6, 99–100
anniversaries 220–1 Bronfman, E. 60
Archer, C. 11, 38, 57, 59, 68, 94, 122,
179, 251 caregivers
attachment 10 dealing with difficult situations 138–9
and babies 30 developmental reparenting practices for
compensation for difficulties with 44–6 70–3, 74–8
disorganised attachment behaviour 60–3 and disassociation 173–8
and nurture 52–3, 56 eye contact practice 135–8
and object constancy 33–5 importance of self-care 86–7, 88–9,
and object permanence 31–2, 34–5 245–50
and parents 15–16, 53–4 support for 252–4
and Reactive Attachment Disorder 11 talking abilities 160
and secure base 32–3 Carr, L. 30
and structure 52–3, 56 Cartwright, A. 28
Atwood, G. 60 changes
managing 207–12
babies recognition of 204–6
and attachment theory 30 Christmas celebrations 217–20
co-regulation 100–1 Cicchetti, D. 22
development of communication 12–13, co-regulation of babies 100–1
102–3 Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) 253
eye contact 127–8, 132 Conrad, D. 247
knitting analogy 25–6, 27–9 Cozolino, L. 23
neurobiological development 27–30, 91 Criscuolo, F. 58
new-born 25–7
pre-birth development 18–21, 109 Damasio, A. 30
‘bad’ behaviour D’Andrea, W. 13, 103
managing aggressive behaviour 182–4, Davidson, R.J. 34
187–91 Dawson, P. 48
managing oppositional behaviour 184– DeCasper, A. 26
6,–9 187, 189–91 de Waal, F. 130
managing ‘too good’ behaviour 187 developmental reparenting
reasons for 179–82 complexity of 82–3
Baron-Cohen, S. 13, 126 importance of self-care 86–7, 88–9
bedtime routines 209–11 meeting needs 86–7
need for safety 84–5
285
opportunites for change 83–4 Jennings, S. 18

practice of 70–3, 74–8 Johnson, S.P. 127
principles of 68–70, 74
and traumatised children 79–90 Keck, G. 10
disassociation Kohler, E. 12
practice for 173–8 Kupecky, R. 10
in young children 167–73
disorganised attachment behaviour 60–3 learning difficulties 45–6
lying 192–203
Eliot, L. 23 Lyons-Ruth, K. 60
emotional literacy 30
emotional regulation 112–16 MacFarlane, J. 26
executive function 36, 41–2 Mandela, N. 184
exploration Maurer, D. 128
encouragement of 43 Meltzoff, A.N. 13
eye contact mindfulness 24–5, 36
activities for 134–9 mirror neuron (MN) systems 12–13, 24,
and babies 127–8, 132 25, 27, 30, 114, 167
and young children 129–32 Moore, M.K. 13
Morgan, J. 28
Felitti, V.J. 58
Fifer, W. 26 neural connections 117–18
First Steps in Parenting the Child Who Hurts: neurobiological development
Tiddlers and Toddlers (Archer) 11–12, in adolescence 47–52
122 in babies 27–30, 91
Fisk, N. 18 and brain division 35–6
Fogassi, L. 12 and executive function 36, 41–2
Fonagy, P. 24 knitting analogy 17–18, 19, 25–6,
Frank, M.C. 127 27–9, 39–40, 47–8, 51–2
in ‘middle years’ of children 39–41
Gallese, V. 12 and mirror neuron systems 12–13
George, C. 32 neuroplasticity 38–9
Gerhardt, S. 20, 22, 30 in new-born babies 26–7
Gitau, R. 26 and object constancy 33–5
Gluckman, P. 58 and object permanence 31–2, 34–5
Goddard, S. 117 in pre-birth development 18–21, 22–4,
Goldman-Rakic, P.S. 30 109
‘good’ children 189–91 and secure base 32–3
Gordon, C. 38, 57, 59, 68, 94 and shame 46–7
Gratier, M. 132 and trauma repair 13–14, 37
Grossmann, K. 37, 60 neuroplasticity 37, 38–9
Guare, R. 48 New Families, Old Scripts: A Guide to the
Language of Trauma and Attachment in
Hanson, M. 58 Adoptive Parents (Archer and Gordon)
Hari, E. 12 14, 74
holidays 222–33 Next Steps in Parenting the Child Who Hurts:
home environment 106–12 Tykes and Teens (Archer) 11
Hughes, D. 74, 87, 108 Nishitani, N. 12
nuture 52–3, 56
Iacoboni, M. 12, 27 and developmental reparenting 75–6
encouragement of 57, 58–9
Index 287
object constancy (OC) 31, 33–5, 168, siblings 234–44

197, 231 Siegel, D. 20, 23, 24, 25, 27, 29, 30, 34,
activities for 140–50 38, 44, 113, 128, 129, 131, 254
object permanence (OP) 31–2, 34–5, 43, Solomon, J. 32
104, 105, 110, 167, 197, 230 Spangler, G. 37, 60
activities for 140–50 special occasions 213–21
object self-constancy (OSC) 34, 231 Stalker, A. 26, 29, 44, 46, 118
object self-permanence (OSP) 31, 32, 167 stealing 192–203
oppositional behaviour 184–6,–9 187, structure 52–3, 56
189–91 and developmental reparenting 75–6
orbito-prefrontal cortex (OFC) 35, 36, 41 encouragement of 57, 58–9
support for caregivers 252–4
Panksepp, J. 64, 124
Papousek, H. 128 talking
Papousek, M. 128 caregivers ability to 160
parent-child language 59–60 children’s ability to 159–60
Playful, Loving, Accepting, Curious and practice for 161–6
Empathic (PLACE) parenting 74 problems with 151–9
‘polar opposite’ behavioural patterns 44–5 typical conversations 151–4
Porges, S.W. 36 Target, M. 24
pre-birth development therapeutic parenting see developmental
knitting analogy 17–18, 19 reparenting
and neurobiology 18–21, 22–4, 109 ‘too good’ behaviour 187
Trevarthen, C. 26, 29, 57, 126, 132
Reactive Attachment Disorder 11 Tronick, E. 127
Reebye, P. 26, 29, 44, 46, 118
resilience 22, 34 van der Kolk, B.A. 22, 254
Rizzolatti, G. 12 van Gulden, H. 31, 140, 141, 145, 187
Roth, I. 13, 108, 129 Vaughan, J. 253
rough-and-tumble play 124–5 Vul, E. 127
Schore, A. 14, 18, 20, 22, 23, 26, 27, 30, wellbeing 21
34, 35, 42, 44, 48, 53, 87, 103, 128, Winnicott, D.W. 207
129, 130, 131, 156
secure base 32–3
secure environments
and consistency 104–5
and emotional regulation 112–16
and home environment 106–12
need for 84–5, 101–2
self-care 86–7, 88–9, 245–50
Sensations, Emotions, Actions and
Mindfulness (SEAM) 170, 171, 174,
193, 197
senses
help with 121–5
in home environment 106–8
overstimulation of 118–21
shame 46–7
Shemmings, D. 37
Shemmings, Y. 37

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Reparenting

the Child Who

Caroline Archer and Christine Gordon

Jessica Kingsley Publishers

Foreword by Gregory C. Keck, Ph.D. 7

Part 1 Stepping Forward:

Part 2 What Can We Do?

Appendix 1: Posters to Print 259

This climate of change had its drawbacks. With the label of

increasing our awareness of the impact of early trauma on every

Since gesture and facial imitation are observable in two-day-old

The understanding offered by neurobiology also presents us with

Allan Schore (1994, 2001a, b) and colleagues worldwide refer to

so much a challenge as a gift: to ourselves, our children and our

develop healthier attachments. However, securely attached

Knitting Your Kid!

Although making an analogy between raising children and

overly sleepy, ‘poor feeders’ and unresponsive. These factors, in

understanding of children’s attachment and developmental

temperature. These ‘bottom storey’ adaptations, once established,

Research has shown that foetal exposure to high levels of cortisol

under-development of ‘feel-good factor’ neurochemicals such

emotionally driven reactions, rather than ‘open’ and considered

Mindfulness (‘mindsight’, ‘mindreading’,

By helping youngsters become more socially and emotionally

causing further ‘cascades’ of ‘pattern’ distortions that affect individual

the capacity to reflect these in their own interactions: beginning a

This emphasises the need to make decisions about children’s welfare as

‘internal working models’ (IWMs) described by Bowlby (1973),

themselves continue to exist (OSP). To infants these felt like

Subsequent to the development of OP, object constancy (OC)

The acquisition of OC protects youngsters against the challenges

A key area of the prefrontal cortex linking all three storeys

The semi-detached brain

Just as the owners of each semi-detached house ‘customise’

Moreover, children’s capacity to over-ride ‘bottom storey’

things’, however unhelpful, may be too terrifying for children to

developmental attachment template is at least half the battle. We

Continuing our knitting metaphor, we might think of children in the

brains demonstrate further differentiation according to function

Since this area has been identified (Schore 1994) as the

The gradual extension from the ‘inner circle’, or secure base, of

Feeling ‘held in mind’ (Siegel 1999), neurotypical pre-school

perpetuating the behaviours they so desperately need help to

language problems are common and can be understood in terms

experiences to which they were exposed significantly affect their

There is a marked change in pattern of a ‘knitted garment’ once the ‘main

‘manufacturing glitches’ make it more difficult for the essential ‘joining

previously acquired relationships, social mores and responsibili-

or offending behaviour. The evolutionary-based ‘testing’ or

Nurture and structure

provision of a clear structure becomes increasingly important to

Due consideration must also be given to the effects on subsequent

self‑awareness, impulse controls and social and organisational

Fitting the Pieces

In Chapter 1 we identified specific issues that are pivotal in

Developmentally based attachment

Using our extended knitting metaphor we attempted to bring the

The ‘tailor-making’ of a developmental, or therapeutic,