Lindsay Blass, Psy.D.

04/08/2022

This is such a powerful perspective, especially as we continue to navigate reentry back to “normal” life.

“What we need right now is more women who are full of themselves,” writes Glennon Doyle in her book Untamed. One thing that can hold them back: Unhelpful and unhealthy beliefs about bei…

11/11/2021

Kids 5-11 can get vaccinated against Covid-19 now! For many of us parents with kids in this age bracket 🙋‍♀️, this is welcome, relieving, sigh-of-relief-inducing news. Once that vaccine appointment is on the calendar, it's hard not to count down the minutes until that first jab is in our little one's arm.

Of course, some of that anticipatory excitement is mixed with a whole lotta anxiety. Our kids have to get a *shot*. In some households, the anticipation of getting a vaccine can lead to expressions of fear that range from crying to statements of refusal ("I'm NOT GETTING IT!") to full-on panic.

As adults, we're (usually) equipped with a more highly developed ability to reason. We understand that, with most potentially unpleasant situations, the long-term gain is worth the short-term discomfort. So we do the unpleasant thing because we can access the logic that says "This is for a greater long-term benefit." Children, as many of us are fully aware, don't have a well-developed ability to reason. This is why emotion often "drives the bus", so to speak. Your child may understand the logic of getting a vaccine to help keep themselves and others healthy, but the emotion (typically FEAR) is so powerful that any ability to use reason to understand the long-term benefit is completely inaccessible at that moment. This happens in adult brains as well--when we're scared, our ability to reason is incredibly difficult to access because our brains switch into fight-or-flight/survival mode, and our instinct is to stay alive no matter what.

THIS IS WHY we can tell our kids ANY or ALL of the following:
-"Getting this vaccine means we'll be that much closer to not having to wear a mask anymore!"
-"Getting this vaccine will help keep you and the people around you safe--you're like a superhero!"
-"As soon as you're done, we'll go get ice cream!"
-"It'll only hurt for a second, and then it's done!"
..and IT DOESN'T MATTER. The fear response is too great to make them feel any better about the situation in the moment.

So what's a parent to do?

Let's talk about tools that our kids--and we ourselves--have with us at all times and can use anytime we're afraid of having to do something that we expect is going to hurt. The easiest method is the COUGH TRICK. This is a method that has been shown in studies to reduce children's perception of pain when getting a vaccine. The cough trick is simple: At the moment the arm is jabbed, you cough! That's it! The (overly simplified here) theory about why this method works is that it distracts the pain receptors that would be focusing on the pinch in your arm to the pressure of the cough, and the perception of pain is thus reduced. Another method that has been proven effective is the BLOWING TRICK. During the jab, just blow out repeatedly, as if blowing bubbles. That's it!

As I mentioned, there's theory as to why these methods of reducing pain in the moment work. I'm going to go a little further and wager that having a TOOL that's easily at our disposal helps REDUCE THE ANTICIPATORY ANXIETY about the upcoming event. It gives our kids a plan for the moment. The buildup of worry about an event can often be the worst part, for both the person with the worry and those around them, who may feel helpless to get them to stop fixating or make them feel better. So it can be really effective to share with your child, "Hey! I learned these cool tricks that actually make shots hurt less! And you already know how to do them!", because it helps give them a plan as well as an element of control as they anticipate what's coming.

Of course, there are some kids for whom even having a tool in their arsenal isn't enough to reduce that anticipatory anxiety. For these kids, their worries need to be validated--it is TOTALLY OK AND COMMON to feel scared! For the kids who ruminate, it can be helpful to give them a block of time each day to share their worries--five to ten minutes after school, perhaps, to focus on the fear, with the reminder that they can save those intrusive thoughts for "Worry Time". Sit with them, let the worries flow, write them down with them, and then put them away until next time. You might also think of a mantra for them to repeat as they wait to receive their vaccine: "I am brave and capable" is a great one.

Some strategies while you're waiting in line, if there's a wait at the clinic:

-I Spy
-I'm Thinking of a [object in category] that starts with [letter of the alphabet]
-5-4-3-2-1 game (this is a really effective grounding technique that can be done anywhere): Identify 5 things you can see, 4 things you can hear, 3 things you can touch, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste
-Tap into the sensory system for some calming distraction: bring fidgets, gummy candy, crunchy snacks, even some pleasant smelling essential oils with you to have while in line!

This is an exciting time for us, but it doesn't mean it's not rife with the challenge of actually helping our kids tolerate the jab. Hopefully some of these tools will help not only in the moment of the vaccine, but also in the moments of anticipation. Ice cream afterward doesn't hurt either. Onward and upward! 💪

08/20/2021

Seems about time to share this again…

06/13/2021

I’m really excited to share that I’m opening an office in Westport, CT, this week! I’ll still be in Larchmont as needed, but I’m looking forward to establishing myself in this lovely community. Available for child/adolescent/adult therapy, parent consultation, and comprehensive evaluation.

03/06/2021

On anniversary reactions:

It’s March again. Especially for those of us who live in the Northeast, March often brings with it the promise of better days: the sun shines longer each day, buds are slowly peeking out on the trees, and the mercury begins to slowly and more consistently creep up, taunting us with promises of spring after the seemingly eternal winter. Except, it’s March again. March. The month the world shut down a year ago. If you’re even remotely active on social media, it’s likely you’ve been privy to the various memes circulating about how naïve we were a year ago this week, how we couldn’t have imagined what was coming, how “feral” we’ve become since a year ago. Personally, I’ve spent the past week vacillating between feelings of optimism and pangs of angst I can feel deep in my gut when I think about what we didn’t know yet was to come a year ago. I recently resumed a show I’d began watching maybe a month into the shutdown, and, just hearing the theme music, I felt a sense of dread. So here it is: the anniversary reaction.

The anniversary reaction sounds pretty innocuous, on the surface. For many of us, anniversaries are celebrations: of milestones we’ve achieved, connections we’ve made, or challenges we’ve overcome. But there are times when we can find ourselves approaching the anniversary of an event and feeling anxious, unsettled, angry, on edge, confused, and sad. It’s as though our brains can sense by the angle of the sun, “This time last year I was made to feel scared. So this is now the time of year I’ll feel scared, even when there’s no apparent external threat.” And we may have no idea why we’re feeling this way, because our brain doesn’t remind us to connect the dots and doesn’t listen when we remind it we’re actually safe. And, interestingly, often the feelings that come with an anniversary reaction disappear as quickly as they came on, once the days and weeks surrounding the date of the event pass.

This week, as we approach the one-year anniversary (Friday the 13th—how fitting) of the official declaration of COVID-19 as a pandemic by the World Health Organization, I imagine many of us are feeling more anxious or on edge than we have in recent weeks and months. It’s been a long winter—one of the longest I can remember—and the pandemic-based restrictions certainly did not help the days go by any faster. And March is here again. There is promise of spring. The sun is hitting at a different angle. And we’re still in this pandemic. We are exhausted. We are tapped out. And now we’re being reminded constantly, by virtue of the calendar, that we’ve been at this for a YEAR. But there is reason to hope. Indeed, the days are getting longer and warmer, which brings with it its own optimism. We can get outside more readily. Vaccination production and distribution is ramping up. There is promise that we are approaching the end of this tunnel. Let’s keep this in mind as we navigate the unexpected emotions we may experience over the next week/month/season. We will get through this. Just because the calendar (and our tricky brains) may say so, we’re not where we were a year ago. And maybe in coming years, March will be the month we get to remind ourselves how far we’ve come in our resilience. Let’s plan for it. In the meantime, hang in there, and know you're not alone in whatever feelings come up this month.

03/02/2021

My annual reminder to start putting the kids (and yourselves) to bed five minutes earlier each night, so that by the time we put the clocks AHEAD in 12 days, body clocks will have adjusted a bit.

(Results may vary; smooth transitions not guaranteed. But that jet-lagged feeing will be minimized!)

02/05/2021

Sound on for this one.

The stats here are not surprising (and least surprising, of course, are the stats about the more significant effect on Black mothers.) I've been quiet here because of precisely everything mentioned in this article. Every sound bite could have been me at some point over the past eleven months.

How are you managing lately, moms?

A series that examines the pandemic’s effect on working mothers in America.

10/20/2020

Plan ahead to Fall Back!

In the midst of pre-election, anticipation-of-whatever-Halloween-is-going-to-look-like (please stay safe and smart) chaos, it’s easy to forget that we have an added bonus beginning November 1: the return to Standard Time. 😩 Here’s a pro-tip, for parents or anybody who wants not to feel like a zombie when Halloween has already come and gone: start pushing the bedtime routine back by five minutes each day, beginning tonight or tomorrow. Within 12 days, bedtime will have shifted an hour later—until you set the clocks back and bedtime is again at the time it was just yesterday! This is not foolproof and results may vary, but chances are it will at least take the edge off the shock of the time change—at a time when we’ll likely need it most!

Wishing you restful sleep and an easy adjustment to whatever the first week of November holds.

10/02/2020

Spoiler alert: the kids will be all right.

How masks and distancing may affect emotional development.

09/13/2020

Content warning: 9/11; trauma; COVID-19; pandemic

As we are all well aware, the 19th anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attack passed the other day. In previous years, I've found myself contemplating not only my personal experience but also the gravity of our country's peril on that horrific day. This year felt different to me, personally. I didn't feel the compulsion to listen to the list of names as they were read somberly from Ground Zero, or to pause my activity for a moment of silence at the exact moments the planes hit the Twin Towers. My (masked) children were actually getting on their (nearly empty) school bus to go to (their half day of socially distanced) school at 8:48, the moment the first plane hit. As my husband and I walked back to our house from the bus stop, I said to him, "I feel like I don't have the bandwidth this year to honor the gravity of 9/11 the way I have in the past." I'm not sure if others had this experience. I do realize that for many, especially those who were in and around New York City on that fateful day, the anniversary conjures those same feelings of trauma that were so raw on that fateful day. For those who have experienced trauma, you're well aware that any trigger can bring those feelings flooding back, to the point that a person feels as though they are experiencing the trauma all over again. For some, it can happen any time they hear a particular sound, or smell a specific odor, or even hear a certain song--any day of any year. Others may experience an "anniversary reaction"; that is, experiencing the feelings they felt every time this fateful date comes around each year. Still other might simply feel contemplative as the date nears, and then move on with the day as they would most other days. (To be sure, there is no *right* way to experience this, or any other day; we are all entitled to our respective emotions.) Still, the nearly 3000 lives lost, on American soil, in such a short span of time, should never be forgotten.

As we continue to navigate pandemic life, I wonder for whom else the anniversary of 9/11 felt less “heavy" this year; as I mentioned above, I felt as though I didn't have anything more to give in the way of grief and sadness, even to honor this anniversary. We are rounding the corner on 200,000 lives lost to COVID-19. As I've seen several people point out on social media, we have lost as many lives in a day to this virus as were lost on 9/11/01. But this loss of life to COVID feels different. Perhaps we are numb (I think I am, to some degree). Perhaps we are experiencing quarantine fatigue (I know I am). Perhaps we can't think about this number as "loss" because they are not concentrated in one area, or we are not being exposed repeatedly to footage of people dying, or we are not united as a nation against this enemy (as it felt we were after 9/11). Moreover, it’s highly unlikely we will spend a day each year reading off the 200,000+ names of those lost to COVID (this is a sobering sentiment to me, in many ways). Regardless, one thing is certain: most of us are living our lives differently now from how we were a year ago. There is no foreseeable end in sight. When life returns to whatever semblance of normalcy is possible after this virus is contained, we may suddenly realize just how traumatized we all have been by this situation. I personally anticipate feeling uneasy in early and mid-March, on the anniversary of the time when everything around myself and my family shut down abruptly, for years to come. It's hard to know at this point what an "anniversary reaction" to this pandemic will feel like when life goes back to normal. Or when--or how--each of us might experience it. But we are experiencing ongoing collective trauma as a society. We need to be ready to mourn and grieve and process this collective experience as the feelings come. Our respective experiences will be different, no doubt. I believe we will be able to support each other through these reactions, whenever the feelings arise, much as we continue to do every 9/11.

Keep plugging.

05/28/2020

Ever since my kids became bicycle riders (training wheels notwithstanding), we've been sticklers about helmet-wearing as an important safety precaution. It's become second nature to them to grab their helmets and put them on before they mount their bikes to ride up and down the street. It's so ingrained in them that when we're out in the car and see somebody on a bicycle without a helmet, they're quick to point out, "That person's not being safe!" This morning, my 8yo and I had the Today Show on, and a commercial came on depicting people wearing masks. My son remarked, almost reflexively, "Those people are being safe." He continued to make this comment about every person he saw on TV wearing a mask.

As we begin to reopen slowly, I've been picking up some concern from parents about how our children might be affected emotionally by seeing so many people wearing masks while out and about, as well as fear and worry about the potential trauma we might be inflicting on them if, at any point in the future, they're required to wear a mask either at school or during other activities. This is a legitimate concern: children often rely on the facial expressions of others to gauge how to navigate various circumstances, and when those facial expressions are not readily visible, it can feel unsettling and unnerving. But as experiences become normalized, so too does our ability to adapt and adjust. The more we normalize mask wearing, for as long as we have to, the sooner we'll be able to feel comfortable and confident being out in the world again. May they become as banal an indicator of safety as those ubiquitous bicycle helmets.