Chill the cake before you decorate it

Psychologist’s trategies for Lockdown Life Tips on dealing with kids while home 24/7

By Stephanie Newm an, PhD

I’m a practicing psychotherapist, which means I’m killing it at parenting. Obviously.

My days flow seamlessly. Late morning. Having finished several virtual therapy sessions, I now stand over a pot of soup — Grandma’s recipe — stirring vigorously. An alert on my phone grabs my attention: time to nab an Instacart slot. Still stirring, I log on with my other hand while glancing over at the laundry (not finished drying yet). Now it’s time for homework review. Linear algebra? No problem! I settle in, lost in equations until the pot begins to boil. Tensions are erupting: two kids, 1 Oreo. I place a hand on each child’s shoulder, being sure to use a voice that is more soothing than scolding: “These are unprecedented times; let’s not argue over minutiae.” My daughter’s face splits into a wide grin, “You’re so right, Mom, I’ll just have the Twizzlers! As she reaches for the candy, her brother waves her off: “Take the cookie, I don’t mind.”

Great kids, I think, as they walk off, arm in arm.

Before the health crisis, I worked mostly in my city office, a somber space in the lobby of a high rise. While there I often fielded questions about the contents of my bookshelf and use of the analytic couch (yup, people still lie down!). Conventional wisdom in my field holds that exploring thoughts and fantasies — even those in the form of questions — can offer insight into the patient’s internal world. Inquiries present an opportunity for learning.

I’d nestle in, buffeted by the tools of the trade: Freud’s Standard Edition, a set of matched chairs and ottomans, woven area rug, and black leather sofa. The neutral set-up offered relative anonymity.

But now with families locked down, parents working from home and kids engaged in remote schooling, we’re all around all the time, with everyone on the Wi-Fi at once. How times have changed.

And psychotherapists have changed with them. We are Zooming and Face Timing, along with the rest of the world — and in so doing, confronting challenges that emerge when daily realities bump against the treatment frame. During face time sessions, I see my own empathizing eyes, squinting back at me from a corner of the screen. Looking at myself during emotionally poignant moments is the last thing I want to do! It’s jarring to see me starting back at me. Today I lean in for a closer view. I should have combed my hair - and that scarf! I’m never wearing it again!

Virtual engagements are assaulting our boundaries. Most recently I’ve dealt with an onslaught of unexpected background noises. Leaf blowers and family arguments have come out of nowhere, punctuating sessions. I’ve learned to mute my call when stressed voices emanate from the room below. I pound on the floor three times, feeling like a guest at a seedy motel where rooms rent by the hour.

And even though my engagements are virtual, I always make it a point to look professional. I may be cleaning sinks and scrubbing porcelain unmentionables, but I am sure to dress for sessions: black suit jacket, string of pearls, even a pin on my lapel. Below, faded jeans and mocs. In my constant state of mismatch, I’m aware of the stares that follow as I walk the dog outside in between appointments.

And that soup-stirring, delivery-timereserving, math-reviewing, and peacebrokering moment… never happened, never will. As to the issue of whether my expertise makes me an expert in my own parenting…. Here are some go-to strategies for handling child-rearing and its myriad dilemmas.