
Parents often come to me puzzled and sometimes defeated. They have done their best to teach their child coping strategies. The family values emotional awareness and thoughtful problem-solving. Everyone has done what they were “supposed” to do.
And yet, in the hardest moments, nothing seems to work.
The deep breaths don’t land. The reminders fall flat. “Use your words” feels like it echoes into the void. And the question lingers: If my child knows these skills, why can’t they use them when they need them most?
Here’s the part that changes everything: during states of dysregulation, the brain temporarily loses access to the frontal lobe (Siegel & Bryson, 2012). The frontal lobe is where problem solving and reasoning happen. This isn’t a malfunction—it’s design. When the nervous system perceives threat, it shifts into survival mode, prioritizing protection and defense over reflection and reasoning.
This is why a dysregulated child cannot be reasoned with. They aren’t being oppositional. They aren’t choosing chaos. Their system is responding exactly as it was built to—through fight, flight, freeze, or immobility (Kozlowska et al., 2015). Each child tends to have a familiar pathway, one their nervous system has learned is protective.
When regulation returns, the whole brain can come back online. The child can reflect, make sense of what happened, and access skills again. But for some children—especially those with sensory processing differences or trauma—this return to regulation doesn’t happen easily. Their system stays activated, repeating patterns that strain relationships and exhaust the adults who love them.
This is where our role shifts.
Before we teach.
Before we correct.
Before we expect language, logic, or compliance—
we must promote regulation.
Regulation isn’t a reward for good behavior. It’s the foundation that makes behavior, learning, and connection possible.
Co-regulation—offering our calm nervous system to a child who can’t yet find their own. It is not permissive. It’s profoundly reparative. Often, this means doing less: less talking, less explaining, less fixing. It means approaching a child with curiosity instead of control, presence instead of performance.
And just as importantly, it means caring for the adult nervous system too. Because when children escalate, adults often do as well. That’s human. Giving yourself permission to pause, to soften your body, to step back from words and into steadiness.
When we help children return to regulation again and again, we interrupt the cycle that they can get trapped in. We remind their nervous system that safety is available. And from that place, skills become accessible.
The invitation here is simple, but it is not easy:
Notice the state before addressing the behavior.
Lead with regulation before expectation.
Trust that calm is not the end goal but connection is.
Reflection Prompt:
Think of a recent moment when a child’s behavior felt confusing or overwhelming. What might change if you viewed that moment through the lens of nervous system state rather than behavior or compliance?
References
Greene, R. W. (2014). The explosive child: A new approach for understanding and parenting easily frustrated, chronically inflexible children (5th ed.). HarperCollins.
Kozlowska, K., Walker, P., McLean, L., & Carrive, P. (2015). Fear and the defense cascade: Clinical implications and management. Harvard Review of Psychiatry, 23(4), 263–287.
Murray, D.W., Rosanbalm, K., Christopoulos, C., & Meyer, A.L. (2019). An Applied Contextual Model for Promoting Self-Regulation Enactment Across Development: Implications for Prevention, Public Health and Future Research. J Primary Prevent 40, 367–403. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10935-019-00556-1
Siegel, D. J., & Bryson, T. P. (2012). The whole-brain child: 12 revolutionary strategies to nurture your child’s developing mind. Delacorte Press