It was a heartbreakingly beautiful day.  I work at Newton-Wellesley Hospital, and as I live in Western Massachusetts, I had not yet had reason to come in to Boston.

Though I grew up in New York City, I have felt a strong attachment to Boston since I first lived here over 20 years ago, on what my husband fondly refers to as "far out" (Farrar) Street, that I never felt for New York.

I sat at the Starbucks on the corner of Charles and Beacon, working on my new book before heading to the State House for a  meeting of Representative Ellen Story's Postpartum Depression Commission. I had a bit of extra time, so I set out for a walk on the Common.

"Can I cry, walking alone in the middle all this life?" "Can I not?" My brain conversed in this way with my heart as I fought back tears. They did not come. I continued my walk, drawn to Boylston Street. I stopped to photograph some tulips. I saw a runner sitting on a bench tying her shoes. "Are you OK? "I wanted to ask.

I walked down Boylston to the memorial that has appeared, taking time to look at a huge card filled with signatures and words of gratitude addressed to Massachusetts General Hospital. It was getting late, so I headed back towards the State House.

Once again at the corner of Beacon and Charles, I stopped. I looked out across the Common at the magnificent burst of color against the perfect blue sky. I thought of a trip in April, 16 years earlier, with my then 2-year-old daughter.  My husband and I sat among the flowers in this same spot in the brilliant sunshine. A complex mix of feelings were brewing- anger at the loss of innocence, love for this beautiful city, and deep sadness for the people whose lives were directly impacted, and for the city as a whole. Then I let the tears come- enough to allow myself to know that this was not just an ordinary day of work.

I went to my meeting, fully engaged in the task at hand. Walking down the stone steps into the light of dusk, I was joined by a young man who had been at the meeting who I did not know. As I again looked out over the Common, I wanted to say, "This is my first time here since the bombing." Instead we simply smiled at each other. "Have a nice evening," he said as he walked the other way. "You too," I replied.

It is this intergenerational self and the strength and guidance that seem to derive from it that are associated with increased resilience, better adjustment, and improved chances of good clinical outcomes.

I had been working on a post on the subject of mourning and music. But with the trauma of the Boston Marathon bombing still so fresh, it did not seem appropriate to write about any other subject. I wondered, what could I add to the discussion? Then this morning, with the idea of music as a means to connect with feelings on my mind,  I heard on the radio the song Learn Me Right by Mumford and Sons. The lyrics, specifically the chorus (not the verses), are perfectly fitting to the moment, though the "scream" with hope will be one of joy,  not terror. And the music, particularly the version performed by Birdy for the movie Brave, captures the spirit of resilience. It can represent hope for the triumph of the people of Boston and of the Marathon itself. It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but for me, and perhaps for others, the music can help connect with the feelings of the day.

In the wake of the Newtown tragedy, many people, myself included, wrote about the need to address both gun control and mental health care. So it was rather jarring, on the same day that Connecticut's governor signed comprehensive new gun control legislation, to read that Cambridge Health Alliance was planning to cut 11 of 27 child inpatient psychiatry beds, including all inpatient service for children age 3-7.

But on closer consideration, I wonder if this loss in fact presents an opportunity. With no inpatient care for young children, it now behooves us as a society to make sure they never need such care. As a pediatrician with 25 years experience working with troubled children, I can be sure that when a child needs hospitalization at age 4, 5 or 6, his problems started way before that. The Globe article suggests that plans are headed in this direction.

Burke [chief of psychiatry] said the hospital is focusing more on efforts that can keep children out of the hospital, including services in schools and placing psychiatrists in pediatricians’ offices.

This is an excellent idea. But what does it look like in practice? Number one, we need a workforce experienced in early child development. There is an explosion of knowledge and research, coming out of the discipline known as infant mental health, that informs us of how to work with parents and children together to help set young children on a path of healthy development.

Such training programs are erupting all over the country. One superb program is right here in Boston- the UMass Infant-Parent Mental Health Post-Graduate Certificate Program under the direction of renowned researcher Ed Tronick.

Fellows in that program learn from leaders in the field, including child psychiatrist Bruce Perry, whose neurosequential model of therapeutics informs us of how to use knowledge of neurodevelopment to guide treatment.

We need these programs because most child psychiatrists have minimal to no education in early child development, and pediatricians, who live and breathe child development and have long-term relationships with families, are under pressure to see 6 patients an hour, and so have no time to help. In the ideal world, training in infant mental health would also be incorporated in to pediatric and child psychiatry training.

We cannot let the bottom fall out for these children. By taking away these beds, a preventive model is no longer optional. A person trained in early childhood mental health should be in every primary care office, and every childcare center should have easy access to early childhood mental health care professional for on-site consultation. I wonder if this might even cost less than maintaining inpatient beds.

Of course this does not help the children today who need inpatient care. Ideally we would be able to offer both forms of help. Perry's model is relevant for treatment of older children as well. I do not know the answer to this problem. However, I can be sure that parents, who are suffering terribly waiting with their severely troubled young child for an inpatient bed to become available, would have much preferred to get meaningful help years before.

A friend and colleague recently asked if I thought joy was an emotion or a state. Without pause, I responded that it was a way of being fully present.

Early the next morning I was at Starbucks writing to another colleague about a case from my pediatrics practice for a book we are writing about parenting. I was describing a scene with a mother and 4-month-old son.  He had been a very challenging newborn who cried all the time, and she had struggled with postpartum depression. In my office they gazed adoringly at each other with huge smiles of delight.  I wrote, "There was pure joy in their relationship."

I glanced up from my writing to see yet another scene. A father was calmly telling his two-year-old daughter that she needed to hold his hand when they crossed the street. He was negotiating his coffee and her juice while she repeatedly wriggled away. "I can carry you or you can hold my hand, " he said. No go. She reached out to him for an instant, but again dodged his reaching hand. "Big girls hold hands crossing the street." It seemed this would work as she again reached out, but again changed her mind. Then somehow very gracefully he switched his beverages and offered his other hand. "Do you want to hold this one?" This was the magic needed. It seemed as if she had to have some say before she would temporarily relinquish her growing independence.  I watched this big tall daddy and his little girl walk across the street hand-in-hand. Another moment of joy, both for them and for me.

Interestingly, the day before another colleague had invited me to speak at a conference for early childhood professionals about the "magic of the moment" in our work supporting early parent-child relationships.

A reader of my previous post asked how I "connect the dots" from supporting newborns and parents to "ADHD" treatment. He states that, "trying to figure out the cause will not help any kid today." This comment motivated me to clarify what I mean by cause, as I think finding out the cause will help every kid today.

What I mean by "finding out the cause" is to give parents the space and time to tell their story, to make sense of their child's symptoms.  The aim is not to determine if the child has enough symptoms to meet diagnositic criteria for a DSM defined disorder, but rather to support  parents' efforts to find a coherent narrative. It involves starting with at least 1-2 full hour visits with both parents.  I put "ADHD" in quotes because by giving the symptoms a name, as in "ADHD evaluation" we narrow our thinking before we even start. Ideally we listen to the family's story with an open minded curiosity.  

The story often starts with a fussy or colicky baby. Even before this, there may have been stress in pregnancy which is known to be associated with advanced motor development and behavioral dysregulation in the newborn. Postpartum depression and/or anxiety may have been present. Supporting a dysregulated baby is particularly challenging when a parent is affected by depression and/or anxiety. These babies often continue to have symptoms of dysregulation into the toddler and preschool years, with frequent tantrums, "not listening" or "explosive behavior." There is often a strong family history of "ADHD," substance abuse or other mental illnesses. This history is closely linked with current relationships. For example, if one parent has "ADHD," the child's behavior may be especially dysregulating for that parent. One parent who does not have ADHD may blame the other parent, resulting in marital discord. The child may have significant sensory processing challenges. The child may be developmentally immature and the youngest in a structured preschool program. Sleep disurbance on the part of both parent and child has a significant role to play in development of symptoms.  There are as many variations to this narrative as there are families. Clinicians also need to be attentive to the fact that child maltreatment is a rare cause of "ADHD"  that we do not want to miss, and must be considered.

 Once parents have the opportunity to make sense of their child's symptoms,  "what to do" follows naturally. Medication may, in a few cases, be indicated, particularly if a child's self esteem is suffering due to academic demands. But more often than not, the "what to do" is elsewhere. For example, a parent may need to do his own therapy to address troubled past relationships. A parent may take up yoga to manage the dysregulation her child's symptoms precipitate, so that she can remain calm in the face of his difficulties. Sleep disruptions are often part of the story and must be addressed. Marital counselling may be necessary. A good occupational therapist, who helps the family to manage the child's unique challenges in the context of relationships, can be invaluable.

Time, space and a nonjudgmental listener are an essential first step in evaluation of any child with behavioral symptoms. The "why" must come before the "what." Then the "what to do" will follow naturally.

An NIH funded study published last week in the Lancet revealed that five major mental health disorders- ADHD, autism, bipolar disorder, depression and schizophrenia- share genetic roots. The authors state that their findings blur diagnostic categories. They write:

These results provide evidence relevant to the goal of moving beyond descriptive syndromes in psychiatry, and towards a nosology informed by disease cause.

Epigenetics, or the environmental influence on gene expression, must immediately be brought in to any discussion of these important findings. "Cause" is related to a complex interplay between genetic risk and environmental effects.

Another study on ADHD published this week points to the problems inherent using this oversimplified diagnostic category. The study, published in Pediatrics, showed that not only do symptoms of ADHD persist into adulthood in 30% of cases, but there is also a significant amount of "co-morbidity," including these alarming statistics:

The study also found the risk for suicide was nearly five times higher among those diagnosed with ADHD than in the comparison group, and nearly 3% of study participants were in jail when recruited for the adult portion of the study.

A review of the study published in USA today includes this telling line:

Symptoms[of ADHD] can be controlled by a combination of behavioral therapy and medication. 

Maybe the reason that so many people have such poor outcomes is that we are neglecting to understand the underlying cause of the problem and instead simply labeling and "managing" symptoms. These dismal long-term results, along with the similarly dismal results reported in the preschool ADHD study showing that 90 percent of children had signficant symptoms at 6 year follow up, state loud and clear that the way we approach what we are now calling "ADHD"  is not working. We need to do something dramatically different from the current standard of care.

What we are calling "ADHD" is a constellation of symptoms that represent problems with regulation of attention, behavior, and emotion. The term itself gives the illusion that we know the specific biological mechanism in the way that we know how lack of insulin causes diabetes. This is however, far from true.

As the first study I refer to indicates, we are just beginning to learn about the underlying biology of mental illness, and those findings suggest that "ADHD" may be an artificial construct.

My clinical experience tells me that these genes they have described may be functionally related to sensory processing.  Problems with sensory processing seem to be common to many diagnostic categories for mental illness that we currently use. However, children develop the capacity for self-regulation in the context of relationships. Identifying the problematic gene is only part of the answer. Understanding and addressing the environmental risk is the other.

If we consider the interplay of genetics and environment, then a third study published last week, this one also in Pediatrics, will point us in the direction of meaningful preventive intervention. This study identified the problem of postpartum anxiety, concluding that:

Postpartum state anxiety is a common, acute phenomenon during the maternity hospitalization that is associated with increased maternal health care utilization after discharge and reduced breastfeeding duration. 

Given what we already know about the risk of psychiatric disorders in children of parents struggling with depression,  these findings only increase the urgency of focusing our resources on supporting parent-infant pairs. We need to help set development in a healthy direction from the start.  Genetic vulnerabilities are present at birth, and if we devote maximum resources to supporting the environment, then we may significantly decrease the risk of those vulnerabilities manifesting as psychiatric illness.

Research by psychologist Ed Tronick and his colleagues provides evidence that supports Winnicott’s idea that the good- enough mother, the mother who fails at times to be attuned to her child, facilitates her child’s healthy development. Tronick refers to moments of disruption, similar to Winnicott’s “failures of attunement.” Tronick and his colleagues videotaped minute-by-minute interactions between infants and their mothers. His research has demonstrated that these moments of disruption can actually enhance development of emotional regulation. Mismatches, when they are recognized and repaired, increase a child’s sense of mastery and confidence in his ability to cope with difficult feelings. The accumulated experience gained from dealing with and repairing multiple mismatches, or disruptions, become part of the infant’s way of relating to other people.

There are two important studies published in the latest issue of the Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry. First, the PATS (preschool attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder treatment study) showed that at 6 year follow-up the treatment, consisting of medication and/or behavior management, was not working. Ninety percent of children continued to experience symptoms 6 years after diagnosis and ongoing treatment. This is because the current standard of care does not look at the cause of the symptoms, as I have written about repeatedly on this blog and in my book Keeping Your Child in Mind. Here is an example of  a story from a previous post.

Tears ran down Elena’s cheeks as she described being so overwhelmed and full of rage that she forcefully held her fully clothed 4-year-old son, James, under the shower when he wouldn’t go to bed. Later in the same 50-minute visit she revealed that she had suffered years of physical and emotional abuse as a child. As is typical of visits to my behavioral pediatrics practice, she had brought James because he was “defiant.” “Something must be wrong with him,” was followed by, “Tell me what to do to make him listen.” James’ preschool teachers, who were having trouble managing his behavior, had suggested that he might have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD.) They recommended to Elena that medication be considered. They knew nothing of this history. My wish in listening to this story is not to judge, but rather to understand the experience of both mother and child.

As I elaborate in more detail in that post, this prescribing of medication to young children represents a prejudice against children. A colleague described it as a massive exercise in societal repression.   Hidden abuse is an extreme example. It may be simply that the classroom environment is not suited to the child's particular vulnerabilites. There are countless different stories in between. It is not surprising that without an opportunity for these stories to be heard, medication and behavior management would fail to alleviate symptoms.

Second, less well-noticed but perhaps more important, is a study showing the link between late preterm birth, maternal depression and preschool psychiatric disorders. It showed that late preterm babies (34-36 weeks) were at increased risk for anxiety disorders at preschool age if their mothers had postpartum depression.

How fitting that T. Berry Brazelton is receiving the Presidential Citizen's Medal in coincidence with these studies. It is Brazelton who taught us to look at each baby's unique qualities and capacities for complex communication. In settings such as the ones described in that study, where both mother and baby are vulnerable, his  Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale, as modified to the NBO, has great relevance. Brazelton, in all his wealth of contributions, shows tremendous respect for both parents and children.

These two studies show that we need to invest resources in supporting mother-baby pairs from birth, and in listening to families with young children so that their stories can be heard.

Maybe Brazelton will tell this story to President Obama!!!

Now that the letters to the editor in response to the New York Times article Drowned in a Stream of Prescriptions have been published, I am going to take advantage of this blog to publish mine.

There is one glaring error in the generally well-researched and deeply disturbing article Drowned in a Stream of Prescriptions. In a record review of Richard’s treatment the reporters found none of  “the more conventional talk-based therapies that experts generally consider an important component of A.D.H.D. treatment.” If only this were true. Just last week, AAP Smartbriefs, a review of newsworthy events in pediatrics, offered this headline Non-Drug ADHD Treatments Don't Pan Out in Study. The “psychological treatments” the study refers to are cognitive and behavioral training and neurofeedback. Talk-based therapy isn't even mentioned.

What is noticeably absent in Richard’s treatment is not talking, but listening. In the age of the 10-minute med check, there is no room for listening. If Richard was truly a well functioning person until mid-college, was his primary diagnosis schizophrenia? Was there some kind of trauma? In a world where ADHD is so quickly diagnosed, there was no time given to fully hear his story. That time that might have saved his life. 

A number of people commented that my previous post seemed unfinished in that I did not offer an alternative approach. This is a valid point, and in part due to the fact that my household has been under siege by the flu. I decided to republish a post from two years ago (before I wrote for the Globe.) It offers an example of my approach, which I describe in detail, along with the research to support it, in my book Keeping Your Child in Mind: Overcoming Defiance, Tantrums, and other Everyday Behavior Problems by Seeing the World Through Your Child's Eyes. 

Holding A Child in Mind

Sam burst into the office, a two-year-old wild bundle of energy. Squealing with delight--or was it distress; it was hard to tell--he ran from toy to toy not looking at me or his mother, Jane. He was unable to engage with anything. Jane had brought him to see me in my pediatric practice because, “he hits me, has explosive tantrums, and I can’t take him anywhere.” She sank into the couch. I sat on the floor, wanting to listen to Jane, but also to include Sam in the visit. At first, I focused my attention on her story, while Sam continued his frantic exploration of the room. 

Jane described a scene at the playground. The other mothers had been engaged in easy conversation, but she was on edge. She knew Sam was “inflexible” and at any moment could go from happy play to a full-blown tantrum. Sure enough, as she tried to join in the group, she saw him getting upset because his toy car was stuck. She rushed over to calm him, but his crying escalated. As the other kids and moms turned to look, she quickly went from embarrassment to rage. She yelled at Sam to cut it out. This only made him scream more. Finally, she grabbed him, her bag and his toys and ran to her car, where she collapsed in tears of helplessness.

Things had not been easy for Jane. Sam’s father had abused her and was in prison. She was afraid when she felt Sam’s anger that he would turn out like his father. Of her own mother she said, “She was never there for me.” Jane was frustrated and bewildered by the fact that Sam could relate to other people, yet reserved all his difficult behavior for her.

At the beginning of the visit, Jane made several awkward attempts to interact with Sam, but without success. She was anxious and her body language felt intrusive, which seemed to cause Sam to withdraw. As she opened up and shared more of her painful feelings with me, however, an interesting transformation occurred. Sam began to engage in more focused play. Mom and I talked about what Sam was doing, observing together how he was calming down. At first he talked to me, bringing me toys and naming them and describing what he was doing. But then he spontaneously ran over and gave his mother a hug. Her whole body relaxed, she leaned forward on the couch toward him, her pleasure and relief palpable in the room. Sam began to engage her in his play, and to communicate with her. Jane told me that she had been reluctant to come for the appointment, but was glad she had.

Being a parent of such a child is a hard job. Raising a child alone, without support from extended family or a spouse, is even harder. In our culture of advice and quick fixes, in seeking help for her problems with him, Sam’s mother would find many who would offer “expert” advice about how to manage her child’s behavior. An increasing number would recommend some type of medication to control his “hyperactivity.” Helping her to be fully emotionally present with her child--supporting her in the challenges she faced as a mother--is not a common approach. 

Yet current research at the interface of developmental psychology, neuroscience and behavioral genetics is showing that it is just this type of intervention that will help children like Sam to manage strong emotions and relate to other people. A child’s mind grows and develops when the people who are most important to the child are able to think about and understand a child’s experience from the child’s perspective, without being overwhelmed or shutting down. A parent’s capacity to “hold the child in mind” leads to a child’s increased cognitive resourcefulness, greater social skills, and better capacity to regulate emotions. If we -pediatricians, teachers, therapists, grandparents, neighbors--can help a mother like Sam’s to join her child, to accept his “low frustration tolerance” as part of him, not a reflection of her own failure as a parent, then she can help him regulate his frustration. He can then learn to manage his feelings on his own. Most important, if she can do this, she may actually change the way his brain handles stress and strong emotions.

I have deliberately given this post a provocative title to offer a counter weight to the outpouring of news covering the California study demonstrating a close to 25% increase in ADHD diagnosis from 2001 to 2010.  I will say at the outset that I am not against medication, and recognize that a small percentage of children who have the diagnosis of ADHD may have a well-defined neurologically based difficulty with focusing and attention.  If such  a child is already school-age and falling behind academically, treatment with stimulants may protect that child from the damaging effects of low self esteem.

However, for the vast majority of children who have this label, things are much more complex. ADHD is diagnosed by DSM criteria that define the disorder by symptoms alone. In clinical setting in which these diagnoses are made, usually with one 50-minute visit for diagnostic evaluation and  subsequent medication checks in 15-30 minutes at 3 month intervals, the child's story is usually not heard.

This story may be of  an active, curious boy too restricted by the highly structured setting of today's kindergarten classrooms (a November 2012 study showed that the youngest in the class was 50% more likely to be treated with stimulants for ADHD), or of a child with sensory hypersensitivity who is unable to manage the barrage of sensory stimuli in a lunchroom or hallway.

The story may be one of a child who witnesses domestic violence or a parent who actively abuses alcohol, or both. A child may herself have been abused. In my behavioral pediatrics practice I have listened to countless stories of children, some as young as 2, who has been suspected to have ADHD. I find almost without exception a mulilayered story, sometimes involving multiple generations, that represents a complex interplay of biology and environment. The dignosis of ADHD as defined by DSM in these cases represents an artificial construct.

This past week I attended the National Meeting of the American Psychoanalytic Association in New York. Multiple excellent presentations offered a refreshing change from the oversimplified approach that is now the standard of care in both pediatrics and child psychiatry.  Dr. David Mintz, a psychiatrist who has written extensively about what is termed psychodynamic psychopharmacology, in his presentation, entitled "Recovery from Childhood Psychiatric Treatment," addressed the complex developmental meaning of medication. The presentation was filled with rich insights from his research and clinical experience, including, for example, his observation that a pill is often used to localize family pathology in a concrete way in one child.

Another highly instructive presentation came from Jack Novick, co-author with Kerry Kelly Novick of the book Emotional Muscle:Strong Parents, Strong Children, on the out-of control child. I was particularly struck by the opening paragraphs to this presentation, which offered an alternative model, similar to what they describe in their book. The paper is not yet published, but the authors gave me permission to use it. I have included the quote in its entirety, as it is an apt response to the current ADHD study.

There seems to be an exponential increase in the number of children who are described by parents, teachers and therapists as out of control. How are we to understand this kind of behavior, and how as therapists are we able to intervene and help restore these children to the path of progressive development? Currently the tendency is to diagnose these children as having neurological difficulties characterized as ADHD, OCD, executive function disorder (EFD), pervasive developmental disorder (PDD), or, increasingly, bipolar disorders.            

These children now seldom come for psychotherapy, but instead are treated by their desperate parents and teachers with reactive, repressive models of external behavioral controls, almost a reversion to 19^th-century modes of authoritarian domination. More perniciously, there is an explosive increase in the prescription of stimulant, anti-anxiety and antidepressant medications, as well as widespread off-label use of antipsychotic drugs. The assumption seems to be that there is a one-to-one relationship between atypical behavior and some specific brain disorder. This of course is the age-old dream of finding a single cause in the body or the mind.

            Recent neuroscience investigations, utilizing advances in the development of computer algorithms for classifying MRI images, have made possible large scale studies of normal and atypical brain development. These are able to capture any changes associated with these diagnoses. In an overview of such studies the authors conclude, "There is no identified 'lesion' common to all, or even most, children with the most frequently studied (psychiatric) disorders"             

            Ignoring such findings, pediatricians, psychiatrists and other clinicians continue to prescribe at ever-growing rates. ADHD and bi-polar diagnoses and their accompanying prescriptions have increased drastically in the past twenty years. 2.5 million American children are medicated for ADHD (10% of all 10-year-old boys); between 1994 and 2003 the number of children diagnosed with bi-polar disorder increased 40-fold. The proportion of underprivileged and minority children sedated for life is a blot on our health system, a social/political disgrace, and a permanent drain on our economy. Despite all the millions spent by pharmaceutical companies in marketing these drugs, the number of children struggling with such troubles continues to rise. If this rate of treatment failure occurred with a strictly medical treatment, the drugs would be withdrawn. 

Attending a meeting of Representative Ellen Story's Postpartum Depression Commission is always an uplifting experience. Talented, motivated, creative and hardworking people from a wide range of disciplines gather to figure out how to best address this significant public health problem. There are social workers, psychiatrists, pediatricians, obstetricians, health insurance industry representatives, and a range of others. There was a doula at the meeting this past week.

Representative Story told us about a pilot project based in two health centers. The project grew out of the recognition that mothers and babies are frequently at the office of a health care provider in the first weeks and months.  This model would capture a large number of families.   A person trained in working with mothers and babies together would be available for hour-long sessions for mothers in the postpartum period who are particularly stressed and overwhelmed.

Certainly if postpartum depression is identified, it is important to have a system in place to refer the mother for treatment. But the fact is that a mother who is struggling in the postpartum period is usually overwhelmed by the baby.  It is essential to bring the baby in to the work from the start. A person experienced working with both mothers and babies can listen to the mother while supporting her efforts to read the baby's signals and manage the normal challenges of sleep disruption, fussiness and feeding difficulties that come up in early infancy.

In my office at Newton-Wellesley Hospital's Early Childhood Social Emotional Health Program I have a special room for mothers and babies that has pastel rugs and soft chairs. It is quiet, private, and filled with light from a large window. One of my young clients called it a "feel better room." I think of it as what pediatrician/psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott referred to as a "holding environment," where both mother and baby can feel safe, contained and understood.

It occurred to me at this meeting that perhaps we should aim to have a "feel better room" in every primary care office. True preventive mental health care starts in the newborn period. I am not saying that if things go wrong in the newborn period a child is destined for trouble. However, it is a time of rapid brain growth, and it is well known that the baby's brain grows in relationships with primary caregivers. With this model, we have the opportunity to set things right from the beginning.

A child psychiatrist at the meeting pointed out that "co-location" of mental health care in the primary care setting has run into trouble because of problems of economic viability. A pediatrician then brought in to the discussion the ACO (accountable care organization) model, whose intention is to promote preventive health care. He expressed concern that the needs of adults with chronic illness would overshadow the needs of children.

We know from a large body of research, particularly the ACE (Adverse Childhood Experiences) study, that true preventive care starts with promoting healthy secure relationships in the early years. This includes prevention not only in the realm of mental illness but also chronic physical illness such as asthma, diabetes, obesity and heart disease.

This model of investing in early relationships has been endorsed by nobel prize winning economist James J. Heckman. In a recent working paper, The Economics of Child Well-Being, he writes:

There is a growing interest in the well-being of children. Such interest is supported by recent evidence from both the biological and the social sciences, which points to the importance of the early years in shaping the capabilities that promote well-being across the lifecourse. It is now recognized that human development is a dynamic process that starts in the womb. Capabilities interact synergistically to create who we are and what we become. The foundations for adult success and failure are laid down early in life... 

Prevention is more cost effective than remediation. As implemented, most adolescent and adult remediation programs are ineffective and have much lower returns than early childhood programs that prevent problems before they occur... High quality early interventions that alter early life conditions are effective ways to promote well-being and human flourishing across the life cycle.

If the ACO model is really going to fulfil its aim of preventive care, then we would do well to find a way to make it "economically viable" to have "feel better room," staffed with professionals trained in work with mothers and babies, in every primary care office in the country.

I hope that the pilot program Representative Story referred to will serve to provide evidence for what the abundance of research already shows us will likely be a very good idea.

I am fortunate that my father is my greatest fan, although, perhaps because his original language was German, it has taken me years of patient listening and translation to recognize this fact. Recently, after receiving a biography of Charles Darwin for his 89th birthday, he has taken to comparing me to Darwin.

 I would certainly be more modest, recognizing that the ideas I write about draw on the work of great thinkers and researchers, together with my own clinical experience.   One of these great minds is Sigmund Freud. His discovery of the unconscious, his greatest contribution, is so much a part of the way we think and behave that is difficult to appreciate the revolutionary nature of this idea.  Even before he used the term unconscious, in his work as a neurologist, his original discovery was that symptoms have meaning.

Freud did not write very much about development under age three, perhaps because there was only so much he could do. However we do know that when he was a toddler his younger brother died. I wonder how much this early experience, and his mother's concurrent grief over the loss of her child, influenced the development of Freud's theories, though perhaps in a way that he himself was not conscious of.

Fortunately the next wave of researchers, including such great minds as John Bowlby, Peter Fonagy and Ed Tronick, and many others in the growing discipline of infant mental health, have focused on early development, showing that not only does behavior have meaning, but also how that meaning is co-created in relationships.

Here is an example. I have written on this blog about my growing recognition of the significance of sensory processing challenges in development.  While such a trait may originate in the child, it immediately takes on meaning within relationships. A newborn that is not cuddly and does not like to be held may evoke feelings of shame and even depression in a mother. A father who himself had sensory processing challenges but was physically abused because of his difficulties may be overwhelmed with anxiety in the face of his child's similar problems. The child's behavior takes on meaning in the context of the parent-child relationship. When a child is a newborn, it may be relatively easy to identify the relational nature of these problems. But when a child is older, there are layers of complexities, such as learning difficulties and concurrent self esteem issues that may accompany sensory processing challenges, or marital conflict that may occur in the face of a child who is struggling.  These complexities are usually out of a parent's awareness, or, returning to Freud's term, unconscious.

 As a society we have come far from this idea of looking for the meaning of behavior. Instead we treat only the symptom. Thus a child who has sensory processing challenges, unless he is working with an occupational therapist trained in infant mental health, may be treated by brushing, or listening to tapes designed to "re-program" his brain. Many parents have told me that they are actively discouraged from participating in the therapy. Yet if parent and child are separated in this way, the meaning of a symptom within the context of relationships is never discovered.

In mental health care, this shift away from the search for meaning is due at least in part to the birth of "biological psychiatry" and the hope that complex emotional struggles have a simple chemical explanation that can be solved with a drug.

On the list serve of the American Psychoanalytic Association there is currently an active discussion about the issue of CPT codes. In order for a service to be covered by insurance, a clinician must provide both a diagnostic code and a code for the type of service. An underlying problem is that our system of diagnosis, largely based on the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual)  is organized by symptoms, not by meaning. Clinicians who are used to helping people to discover meaning are restricted by a system that reduces these complex meanings to a number that corresponds to a list of behaviors. It is a deeply entrenched issue related to the whole structure of the health insurance industry and of our health care system. It is further complicated by the rise of electronic medical records and concurrent implications for confidentiality. Helping people to discover meaning that may be unconscious often involves intimate and private conversations.

This brings me full circle to my father's flattering comparison. It is indeed true that I am motivated not only to help the individual children and families I work with, but also to promote a paradigm shift in how we as a society understand human development, and, in turn, support newborns, young children and families.

Though my father is a magazine publisher, he is not a big fan of social media. He told me that Darwin kept his discoveries to himself, partly in fear of upsetting the mainstream thinking, until he had it all written down in the Origin of Species. My father suggested that I concentrate my efforts on producing my own analogous work.

He has a point. However, I choose to embrace the age of social media, and so aim to move our thinking one blog post at a time (although another book will also be forthcoming.)

For the families who lost children, their world as they knew it has effectively ended. Yet somehow the sun rises again and the next day is here. For the rest of us grieving along with these families, the only way to move forward is to take what President Obama called "meaningful action." I interpret this to be action that is radical and significant enough that it will somehow give meaning to this unimaginable loss.

The first and most obvious front is gun control. Without access to guns, apparently the same rifles used by troops in Afghanistan and Iraq, one individual could not have done this degree of harm. The politics of gun control is not my area of expertise, but certainly the politicians must now be motivated to, as Obama said, "put aside differences" and honor these children with dramatic changes to gun control laws.

The second front is preventive mental health care. This event is the result of a deeply disturbed individual with access to guns. My inbox this morning was full of emails from mental health colleagues referring to pieces they had written for other massacres such as Virginia Tech. I hope that this unspeakable horror will be  the one that will finally lead to real change in access to preventive mental health care.

One of these colleagues wrote of how these events are often perpetrated by young adults who have not been "acting out," but rather have been quietly bullied for years and seriously neglected at home. Their symptoms may be more subtle. Yet it is difficult to imagine that there were not people in this family's life who did not recognize that this boy/young man was mentally ill.

The emerging information speaks to  a deeply troubled relationship between the shooter and his mother as being at the root of the event. Apparently he first shot his mother and then went to the school to deliberately kill the children at the school where she worked. I wonder, was the hurt he experienced in his relationship with her magnified by his witnessing of the care she gave her young charges at her job?  Of course I don't know, and this is only theory as I struggle to make sense of something that doesn't make sense.

As I said to my editor when she asked for our thoughts on this event, the trauma is perhaps too fresh for an in-depth discussion of theory and policy change. However, I am hopeful that the coming weeks and months will be filled with meaningfully dialogue of how we as a society can honor the dead children, both through gun control and improved access to quality preventive mental health care.

Last Sunday I awoke to a news story in our local paper, The Berkshire Eagle, about the vote by the American Psychiatric Association the previous day approving massive revisions for DSMV, the newest version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The article stated:

Board members were tight lipped about the update, but its impact will be huge, affecting millions of children and adults worldwide (italics mine.)

Figuring that this would be big news, I asked my husband if we could delay our morning hike while I wrote a blog post about it. I was sure there would be an active public discussion on the subject.

But I was wrong. Mainstream media had virtually nothing on the story. There was not one word about the DSM vote in the New York Times.  The Boston Globe similarly did not cover the story. There was a brief mention on NPR's Morning Edition on Monday. Boston.com  had my piece as well as an article about Asperger's being dropped from the new version.

There was news on the blogs. Most striking was from Allen Frances, MD, professor of psychiatry at Duke University, who was chair of the DSM IV task force. On his Huffington Post blog he wrote:

This is the saddest moment in my 45 year career of studying, practicing, and teaching psychiatry. The Board of Trustees of the American Psychiatric Association has given its final approval to a deeply flawed DSM-5 containing many changes that seem clearly unsafe and scientifically unsound. My best advice to clinicians, to the press, and to the general public -- be skeptical and don't follow DSM-5 blindly down a road likely to lead to massive over-diagnosis and harmful over-medication. 

While he defends his colleagues against accusations that they have been influenced by big pharma, he  writes that:

The APA's deep dependence on the publishing profits generated by the DSM-5 business enterprise creates a far less pure motivation. There is an inherent and influential conflict of interest between the DSM-5 public trust and DSM-5 as a best seller... The current draft has been approved and is now being rushed prematurely to press with incomplete field testing for one reason only -- so that DSM-5 publishing profits can fill the big hole in APA's projected budget and return dividends on the exorbitant cost of 25 million dollars that has been charged to DSM-5 preparation.

When MGH psychiatrist Joseph Biederman was found guilty of violating conflict of interest rules in accepting large amounts of money from the pharmaceutical industry, the news was announced on July 2nd 2011, a Saturday of a holiday weekend. A number of bloggers suggested that this timing was deliberate: an effort to bury the story.

Some may suggest that the weekend DSMV vote and lack of media coverage is related to the power of the APA and big pharma to squash controversy. For the sake of children, families and adults who struggle with mental illness, I hope that there is a more benign explanation.

Because DSM V, the newest version of the Diagnostic and Statistical manual, sometimes referred to as the "bible of psychiatry" set to come out in May 2013, makes no mention of relationships, the relational perspective is that it is a flawed instrument. The whole discussion about what categories should and should not be included is off the mark. Nonetheless, as it currently dictates who will and who will not receive treatment, it is a force to be reckoned with.

Psychiatrist Daniel Carlat, in his book Unhinged: The Trouble with Psychiatry writes:

The tradition of psychological curiosity has been dying a gradual death, and the DSM is part cause, part consequence of this transformation of our profession. These days psychiatrists are less interested in ‘why’ and more interested in ‘what’.

In an excellent NYT piece on the subject, Not Diseases, but Categories of Suffering, the author states:

And as any psychiatrist involved in the making of the D.S.M. will freely tell you, the disorders listed in the book are not “real diseases,” at least not like measles or hepatitis. Instead, they are useful constructs that capture the ways that people commonly suffer.

Consider the new diagnostic category, voted on Saturday to be included in the new version: Disruptive Mood Dysregulation disorder. The boy I describe in the following story(details as always have been changed to protect privacy) may or may not meet the criteria for this label. Either way, he and his family are in trouble. Even asking the question of diagnostic category diverts us from the task of helping them.

A CBS 60 minutes segment: Born good? Babies help unlock the origins of morality is getting a lot of attention. The opening observation that babies are in fact not blobs is certainly apt. Pediatrician T. Berry Brazelton has been telling us this for over 40 years, since he developed the Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale that clearly shows babies as young as a few hours having complex capacities for communication. When I teach pediatric residents I show them a 2-minute video clip of a three-day-old baby following my gaze and moving his mouth as if in conversation with me. Clearly not a "blob."

However, when the researchers at Yale went on to interpret their findings as indicating an innate capacity for bigotry, I became alarmed. Certainly their research results are robust in showing a baby's preference for stuffed toys that exhibit behavior that is "like them." Researcher Paul Bloom states in the program:

If you want to eradicate racism, for instance, you really are going to want to know to what extent babies are little bigots, to what extent is racism a natural part of humanity.

Here is Webster's definition of bigot:

A person who is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices. 

Using such a negative word to describe a baby feels a bit like a prejudice itself.  Elizabeth Young Breuhl in her book Childism: Confronting Prejudice Against Children, describes prejudice as projection of bad feelings from inside out on to another person.

At another point in the interview Bloom suggests that there might be sets of genes and areas of the brain responsible for such things as resilience and morality.  This rings of the approach of "biological psychiatry" with its history of placing complex developmental/relational problems squarely within a child.

I wonder if another interpretation of the results is in order. I immediately thought of Daniel Stern, a brilliant child psychoanalyst who recently passed away. In his book The Interpersonal World of the Infant he points to the explosion of infant research as evidence of an emerging sense of self in early infancy. He writes:

Recent findings about infants...support the view that the infant's first order of business, in creating an interpersonal world, is to form the sense of core self and core others. The evidence supports the notion that this task is largely accomplished during the period between two and seven months.

So these 3-5 month old babies in the Yale lab, shown out of relational context in interaction with a toy, are in the heart of this process of developing a sense of self in relation to others. An adult, who has a fully developed sense of self, must exercise extreme caution in interpreting their behavior using negatively charged words such as bigot and racist. The behavior must be interpreted in the context of this complex developmental task.

In keeping with the subject of sameness and difference,  the day that I learned of the CBS program I read a review of the new book Far From the Tree: Parents, Children, and the Search for Identity.  The book explores the issue of individual differences, and the complex interplay of genes and environment, through extensive interviews with families of children with various forms of difference or disability. Author Andrew Solomon is not a scientist, but a father and a writer who has done an enormous amount of research.  Though I have only read the first few pages of the over 900-page tome, I am already captivated. On page one he writes:

Our children are not us: they carry throwback genes and recessive traits and are subject right from the start to environmental stimuli beyond our control. And yet we are our children; the reality of being a parent never leaves those who have braved the metamorphosis. The psychoanalyst D. W. Winnicott once said, "There is no such thing as a baby, you will find you are describing a baby and someone. A baby cannot exist alone but is essentially part of a relationship."

 New York Times reviewer Julie Myerson writes of the book:

 This is a passionate and affecting work that will shake up your preconceptions and leave you in a better place.

This book seems an appropriate bookend to the Yale research, with all of the extensive research at the interface of neuroscience, developmental psychology and genetics on how a person develops a healthy sense of self in relation with other people in between.

One of the best things about the work I do is that I get to meet great people and learn about wonderful programs that support parents and children.

Last week I was away in New Jersey speaking at the ICDL conference (Interdisciplinary Council for Learning and Development) In the afternoon, after giving my presentation, I attended another workshop. In the minutes before it started, a woman sitting in front of me turned to me and commented that she had enjoyed my presentation. I asked her what she did.

I learned that that she works at Newark Beth Israel Medical Center where she does massage in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit and Hematology/Oncology unit. When I commented that this must be a very progressive hospital, she said that if she had come with the program fully formed, it was unlikely they would have used it. But she started out just doing a consult here and there, and when the doctors saw the value of her work, they expanded the program to what it is today.

In addition, she told me, in her program Nurturing Touch she does massage with drug addicted moms and their babies who are being treated for withdrawal symptoms. She explained that at first she just worked with the babies, and held what she soon recognized were incorrect assumptions about the mothers. She observed that "we rip the mothers and babies apart" when there is a positive tox screen (drugs found in the urine.)  When she actually met the mothers, she found that they were in deep pain over being separated from their babies and longed to reconnect with them. She began to use her massage techniques on the mothers as well, recognizing that many of them had histories of abuse, and might never have experienced touch in a positive and caring way. She did this simply with gentle hand massage. Her aim was to begin to relax their bodies enough to enable them to hold their own very dysregulated babies;  providing comfort both mother and baby so desperately needed.

Earlier that day I had received an email from someone who had been referred to my website by her pediatrician. She wanted to share her work with me. She is a musician and music therapist who began studying clinical psychology after the birth of her first child. But rather than complete her PhD, she produced an album for mothers and babies, Good Morning My Love, that won the Parent's Choice Gold Award. I found the following on her website:

The benefits of music are intuitive to most people. Music is a natural endorphin that bypasses intellectual thought and directly connects you to emotions. It can simultaneously engage both your playful, spontaneous side and your soulful, tender side. For many reasons it is one of the best ways to connect to your baby: Music, with its inherent melody, rhythm, and repetition, is a language that babies can understand from day one. It also has a way of organizing experience and enhancing it. Both you and your baby can use music to create routine, develop reliable patterns of expectations, and foster a sense of security - all of which help to create a familiar and loving environment. 

As a lover of folk music, I was captivated. One song that is excerpted on her website perfectly captures the ambivalence of toddlerhood with the lyrics, "Mama leave me be but don't leave me." In groups she runs for moms and babies, she uses music to address the anxiety and isolation that new moms often feel.

On my return home, these experiences came together in my mind when I read a study in the current issue of the Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry suggesting that ADHD and Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) may actually represent one overarching diagnosis. Interestingly, at the conference I had been speaking with a colleague, an occupational therapist, about the overlap in symptoms not only of of ADHD and ASD, but also anxiety.

Stanley Greenspan, founder of ICDL, eloquently described the very close link between sensory and affective experience. He recognized these "disorders" as variations of ways in which these systems have been derailed, and created the DIR floortime model as a way to help children and their families to address problems of sensory and affective experience.

I suspect that as we learn more about the biology and genetics of these problems, we will find that the diagnostic categories as described in the DSM system represent artificial constructs.

Rather than figuring out what diagnostic category a child fits in to, we need to focus on supporting parents' efforts to understand their child's experience and to help him to manage his unique vulnerabilities.  The research that I describe in my book Keeping Your Child in Mind offers evidence for this model as a way to promote healthy emotional development.

At the conference, in collaboration with Dana Johnson, an occupational therapist who reached out to me after reading my work, we advocated for integrating the two models in our presentation: Development of the Parent: the Child's Contribution.

I hope that "alternative" therapies, as represented by music and massage, will someday be considered primary therapies, as they address the primary problem. Even better, offering these kinds of interventions for stressed mother-baby pairs may go a long way in preventing the development of more complex problems of sensory and affective experience, problems that we now label "psychiatric disorders."

Michael Bush, a bright, open-minded third-year student at West Virginia University College of Law, contacted me this past summer when, in his role as an editor of the Law Review, he was organizing a symposium on Child Protection in the 21st Century. In our subsequent email conversation he wisely observed that those in the legal profession are often in a position to decide what is "in the best interest of the child" with little substantive understanding of what exactly is in the best interest of the child.  He invited me to share my knowledge as an expert in infant mental health.

This week, his efforts and those of his fellow law review editors-a remarkable group of intelligent and thoughtful young people-came to fruition. It was an extraordinary experience that opened up many opportunities for meaningful collaboration.

 In my presentation I contrasted the historical view of Child Protection as a child-saving service designed to prosecute parents with the model of relationship-focused preventive intervention promoted by the field of infant mental health (those who are interested may see the talk in its entirety on the webcast.)


Rather than giving specific ideas about what to do, I offered a different way to think about work with very troubled families.  While many in the legal profession view their task as "proving what the parent has done wrong," (this is a direct quote from a CPS social worker) I encouraged them to think about creating a "holding environment" where there is room for non-judgmental curiosity about the meaning of behavior. I presented an overview of the research that supports this paradigm.

Many very important things came out of this trip. A number of people from CASA, a non-profit organization in Virginia that supports volunteer advocacy for abused and neglected children, attended my talk. Amber Moore, the editor-in-chief of the Law Review, told me that they had requested my PowerPoint because "they couldn't write fast enough." They want to use what I was teaching to train their volunteer workers. I discovered that people were starved for knowledge about contemporary research in child development in a form that they could understand.

I quoted from my book Keeping Your Child in Mind, explaining that while it was being marketed as a parenting book, it is actually a book about infant mental health written for a general audience. I wrote it with my pediatric and mental health colleagues in mind, but now I see how useful it could be to the legal profession, specifically those working in the area of child protection.

One of my co-presenters was a delightful judge from central West Virginia who has been doing child protection work for over 20 years. He openly admitted to his lack of knowledge on the subject of contemporary child development research and bought 5 copies of my book.

I met a remarkable young woman who, in addition to attending law school, works at the Industrial Home for Youth in Salem, where prior to a recent lawsuit, children as young as 13 were routinely placed in solitary confinement. As part of a law school class, she is drafting a bill to require multidisciplinary meetings every three months for these young offenders, who currently may not meet with anyone who is advocating for them for their entire stay. Because WVU is the only law school in West Virginia, the students' bills are presented to the state legislature, and a percentage of them actually become law. I am hopeful that she and I will keep in touch and that I can support her in her efforts.

As Keynote speaker of the symposium, I have been invited to write a paper for the West Virginia Law Review that will then be available for citation in legal work.  Another of my co-presenters, who spoke about the legal challenges of adolescent parents, already told me that she intends to cite my work.

This trip was well outside my comfort zone. I had never been to West Virginia (or even Pittsburgh-where I had to fly to get there) and certainly had never spoken with an audience of lawyers. My infant mental health colleagues are "my peeps." In a few weeks they will gather in Los Angeles at the wonderful Zero to Three National Training Institute. Sadly, I will miss it, in part because of this trip.

I have often said to my infant mental health colleagues that we need to work on communicating the wealth of ideas that will be presented at that conference widely beyond our borders.  It was like a dream come true to have the opportunity to speak to a group of bright young law students- the future lawmakers and policy makers of our country. The experience left me hungry for more.

The current issue of the Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry has an excellent article, Integrating Mental Health Care Into Pediatric Primary Care Settings, identifying the causes of this problem.

Pediatric training provides limited experience in screening or intervening for mental disorders. In contrast, child psychiatry training emphasizes the treatment of children with established psychiatric diagnoses and typically offers limited experience with children at risk for mental disorders or children whose symptoms do not reach the threshold for diagnosis. 

In other words, the current structure of the health care system does not have room for prevention. Primary care clinicians, who have the main contact with young children and families, do not have adequate education in prevention, and specialists who children are referred to when problems arise only know how to treat identified "disorders." The article further elaborates on the reasons for this situation:

Current financing structures reward treating established diagnoses, not providing preventive services, because payment for visits, with few exceptions, requires a DSM-IV diagnosis.

This problem is currently being addressed in the refinement of the DC: 0-3, a classification of disorders of infancy and early childhood that recognizes the significant role of relationships in problems in this age group. If the DC:0-3 is "cross-walked" with a DSM diagnosis, then reimbursement is possible.  That word "disorder" is still part of the conversation, but it is a step in the right direction.

Another problem intrinsic to the system is that for billing purposes the child is the identified patient, making work with the family challenging.

Research on the treatment of child mental health conditions has strongly indicated the benefit of treating the child and the caregiver as “the patient,” but public and private plans frequently do not pay for family-focused treatment... the need to identify the child as the patient makes family-focused interventions difficult to support financially; likewise, payment for caregiver-only or collateral sessions is lacking.

Another problem identified is the lack of financial support for collaborative care. In my work with families in the Early Childhood Social Emotional Health program at Newton Wellesley Hospital I speak regularly with a child's primary care doctor. This is an essential part of care, as that person often has a longstanding ongoing relationship with the child and family and knows them well. In addition, if I refer a family on to more specialized care, such as with a psychiatrist, it is important that I fill them in on the work I have been doing with the family. Working as a team we can hold the family through a difficult time, and get development going in a healthy direction. I spend a lot of time on the phone because it is good care, and I know that many of my pediatrician and child psychiatry colleagues do the same. Yet none of this care is reimbursed.

The article offers this ray of hope:

The Affordable Care Act (Public Law 111-148) requires mental and behavioral health coverage in an essential benefit package at parity with medical benefits. This could incentivize the integration of care.

Of course for this to happen, President Obama must be reelected.

When I listen to parents of young children (under 5) in my behavioral pediatrics practice, they often describe a child who is very overwhelmed by sensory input, inflexible and easily dysregulated. They worry that their child is "on the spectrum." We talk about how their child does not feel calm in his body, and work together to help him find ways to feel calm. With this approach, there can be significant improvement in behavior.

Thus I was pleased, though not surprised, to learn of two studies validating this approach in children who have been diagnosed with autism. One, published in the current issue of the American Journal of Occupational Therapy, demonstrated that a 17 minute yoga program, called "Get Ready to Learn," significantly decreased anxiety, social withdrawal and aggression.

The second, published last year in The Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine demonstrated significant improvement in core features of autism in a group of children age 3-16 who participated in an 8 week multimodal yoga, dance and music therapy program.

In a related story, this morning on NPR's Only a Game, a program entitled Does Exercise Help Kids Learn? referred to the research of neurologist Majid Fotuhi showing that exercise improves learning efficiency. He stated:

I am also in favor of shorter teaching sessions which are intermittent with 20 minutes of P.E. or some kind of physical activity that’s somewhat structured.

In a previous post I refer to psychiatrist Bruce Perry, whose neurosequential model of therapeutics, primarily applied to work with traumatized children, uses self regulating activities interspersed between both learning and therapy. I conclude:

Often when kids are struggling in school, teachers express concern that they are "over-scheduled." But if extracurricular activities are carefully planned and well thought out, they can be considered an essential part of treatment. It is best to have some kind of a calming activity interspersed with homework, tutoring or therapy. These can be tailored to a child's particular talents and interests.

Whether a child has symptoms associated with autism, has experienced trauma, or is struggling to learn, promoting self-regulation by using the body to help the brain is important. If we can incorporate this approach into treatment and education of young children, we will support healthy development of regulation of emotion, attention and behavior,  perhaps even avoiding the need to label them with a disorder.