Hi there! This is Ann.
My kids were cranky the other day. So was I. We were tired. Maybe a little hungry, too. Two of them got into an argument over a book bag, and I ran out of patience trying to mediate.
When I think back to our less-than-gracious interaction and analyze it, I find myself pondering an acronym that Andrea introduced at Embracing Him:
HALT.
She explains:
When I was in the last trimester of my pregnancy with Sweet Pea, I took a water aerobics class at the local YMCA. I was the only person under the age of 65 in the class, but I so enjoyed every meeting! While working out, these darling senior citizens would often strike up conversations with me, offer parenting advice, and share fond memories of raising their own children.
One day while in the pool, a sweet 80 something year old woman in the class shared a great piece of parental wisdom. She introduced me to the acronym HALT and told me that if I wanted to avoid problems, I should never allow my little ones to become too Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired.
Woe to the mother and father who are caring for children who are too hungry, angry, lonely, or tired! The ire of these upset children and the furrowed brows of their parents can easily be spotted on playgrounds and in supermarkets, malls, and time out chairs all across the nation! Though JT and I have found that abiding by the HALT principle is an effective method of dealing with our children, did you know it’s also a great principle for adults to live by?
This principle is especially important for younger children, but even my older kids need those four basic needs met. If left unchecked or unaddressed, these conditions can escalate and become big problems in a child of any age. Or, as Andrea points out, in any adult, as well.
I need to make sure my needs are met, too. Every parent does. But how?
Read the entire post to find out what Andrea suggests.
Recommended by Ann Kroeker. Artwork by Gail Nadeau. Used with permission.






{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
I often think about how Jesus must have been all of these in some fashion, at the cross. How he could find compassion in that moment… wow. Well, but he was also broken by the experience, and I mean that in a very human way. I don’t think he somehow rose above the experience; I think he accepted it for our sakes as shattering as it was.
And here is a second thought. I think the danger of only looking at the cross (and say, not the Temple clearing, or the times of chosen solitude) is that we somehow think the point is always to deny our feelings and needs for the sake of some supposed Christian persona (the one that always denies, always gives, etc.). That seems unhealthy and ultimately unhelpful to ourselves and those around us.
What does it mean to contribute to a kid’s loneliness? How do we make sure that need is met? I’m thinking this is mostly a matter of being present with them, but also helping them find good friends (and giving them space with those friends).
L.L., I like your second comment. Sometimes I get urked with the Christian obsession with the cross. Without the resurrection, the cross is just another local celebrity execution. I understand we take up our crosses and follow Jesus, so there is good reason to use the cross as the logo for our faith. But we can’t forget what happened next.
OK, I’m clicking over to Andrea now to read the rest.
L.L.: What a fascinating angle, L.L., to think about how Christ’s same very human needs were or weren’t addressed at various moments in his life–and at key moments of his life (and death).
Marcus: I think of the times when my kids are asking me a question and I answer with that “mmmhmmmm….” response (the one I offer when they’ve interrupted something and I’m trying to complete the first thought before engaging with them on this new thought). In other words, I’m not there for them. If that’s my regular mode of operation, then will they ever feel connected with me? Or will they feel lonely, even though I’m physically in the room with them? Your comment also got me thinking that some kids who are introverts can play for long, long stretches of time without necessarily feeling lonely. So some of this is relative to the personality of the child. I had one child who needed lots of sleep as a baby (she’s a teen and still goes to bed early); the next would rarely nap and simply didn’t seem to have the same need for sleep as her sister–which was a bummer for the tired mom who could have used extended nap time to nap herself! Those were times when my own basic, human needs were big, my patience was stretched (amplified by fatigue), and I had to lean on Jesus very simply and humbly and helplessly.
sounds right to me…
i’ll have to pass that one along.