The Child Who Listens Upside Down

In the words of Julia Donaldson (2003): “Be quiet. Don’t wriggle. Sit still. Stay put.” How many times have we had that said to us (maybe more when we were children) or have we said that to a child? I know, when I started my working life as a teacher, it was something I might have regularly said. However, I didn’t know what I know now. 

In the early days of reading to my eldest daughter, I soon learnt that she listened just as well (if not better) upside down than the right way up. Sometimes children just have to fidget. So, why do we stop them? Is it because it doesn’t feel socially acceptable? Is it because we don’t think they are listening? Is it because we think they are rude? 

In the therapy room I often have an adult telling the child in their care to sit still and listen, or commenting on how much they are moving around or “appearing” distracted. Let’s think about what might be going on for this child. In therapy, I may be talking about or referencing some tricky stuff. What happens when something feels threatening or difficult? 

For a while, we might try and stay regulated or in the moment, but if it becomes too much our body automatically starts preparing itself for fight or flight. This means that stress hormones are released into the body which make us want to move – to fight or run away. Our nervous system is doing exactly what it has evolved to do: trying to keep us safe. 

From a neuroscience perspective, movement can actually help regulate the nervous system. When the brain perceives challenge or threat, the body mobilises energy through the sympathetic nervous system. Fidgeting, shifting position, bouncing a leg, or pacing the room can be ways of discharging some of that energy so that the child can stay present rather than becoming overwhelmed. In other words, the movement may be helping the child stay with the conversation, not escape from it. 

If a child is fidgeting when something feels difficult, it may be because they are actually trying to stay regulated and concentrate rather than being distracted or distracting (even if it appears that way). So stopping them moving may actually hinder them staying regulated and cause them to dysregulate. That’s not our intention when we think we are doing the right thing by asking them to sit still. 

At the same time, we don’t want children to feel they have to manage these big feelings alone. But sometimes they won’t come and cwtch in if they feel trapped, criticised for moving, or if they believe they somehow don’t deserve that closeness. 

So how can we be there to co-regulate, while still allowing them to move? There are lots of possibilities. Passing a ball to and fro, rolling the child gently on a yoga ball, or rocking together can all help. Some children listen best while drawing, building with Lego, squeezing putty, or fiddling with a small object in their hands. Others may pace the room, bounce lightly on a therapy ball, or curl up under a weighted blanket while they talk. 

Movement can also be relational. We might walk side by side, tap a rhythm together, mirror each other’s movements, or roll a ball between us. These shared rhythms can help nervous systems settle. When we join the child in their movement rather than trying to stop it, we send a powerful message: you don’t have to manage this feeling on your own. Their body can move, and our presence can help them find their way back to regulation. 

Perhaps the question is not whether a child can sit still, but whether we are able to listen in ways that allow them to be themselves. Movement does not always mean distraction; sometimes it is the very thing that helps a child stay present with us. 

So next time we hear the echo of “Be quiet. Don’t wriggle. Sit still. Stay put.” we might pause for a moment. Instead of stopping the movement, we might become curious about what that movement is telling us. Because sometimes a child hanging upside down, fiddling with a toy, or pacing the room is not moving away from us at all. They may actually be doing their very best to stay with us. After all, in The Snail and the Whale, the tiny snail who refused to stay put went on to have the most extraordinary adventure – perhaps a gentle reminder that curiosity and movement can open up a whole world of possibilities. 

Donaldson, J. (2003) The Snail and the Whale. London: Macmillan Children’s Books. 

Which way up are you?

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