Book Recommendation: The Opposite of Worry, Part 2
In our previous blog post, we explored the core message of The Opposite of Worry—that connection and confidence, not control, are the true antidotes to anxiety. Now, we’re turning that insight into action.
Because children experience worry differently at each developmental stage, our responses must grow with them. A preschooler’s fear of separation, an elementary child’s perfectionism, and a teen’s social anxiety may all stem from the same nervous system alarm—but they require different kinds of support. What remains constant is this: children borrow calm, courage, and regulation from the adults around them. Not because we are not afraid, but because we learn to be courageous despite our fears.
In this blog, we’ll share practical, developmentally attuned strategies you can try at home—playful for younger children, collaborative for older kids, and connection-centered at every age. Think of these not as quick fixes, but as relationship-building practices that strengthen resilience over time.
Let’s explore what supporting bravery can look like—one age group at a time.
For toddlers and preschoolers (approximately ages 2–5)
At this age, kids live in their bodies and imaginations. Short, repetitive games work best, and the goal is to keep things light, physical, and predictable.
1. “Scared monster, brave helper”
You become the over‑the‑top “scared monster” who is terrified of everyday objects (a spoon, a pillow, a stuffed animal), hiding behind furniture or a blanket. Your child’s job is to be the brave helper who shows you the spoon is safe, “protects” you from the teddy bear, or walks you gently past the “scary” pillow.
This mirrors games Cohen describes, where the adult pretends to be scared and the child gets to take the strong role, helping their body rehearse bravery in a playful way.
2. “I can’t watch!” walking game
Set up a short “balance beam” (a line of tape, couch cushion path, or chalk line). You dramatically warn, “Oh no, that path is so dangerous, I can’t watch!” and cover your eyes while peeking through your fingers. Your child walks the “dangerous” path, usually delighted to show you they can do it, which echoes Cohen’s suggestion to give children chances to demonstrate competence. At the same time, the adult hams up the anxious role.
3. “Cozy all‑clear” routine
When your child is startled (after a loud noise, separation, or a fall), you get low, make eye contact, and ask a gentle “second chicken” question: “Can you look in my eyes and see if I’m scared?” You then say something like, “My body says we’re safe now. Let’s do our all‑clear snuggle,” and share a predictable cuddle, deep breaths, or a short song.
This brings the “security system” idea into a toddler‑friendly ritual, helping them move from alarm toward all clear through connection and co‑regulation.
For early school‑age kids (approximately ages 6–9)
Here, children can understand simple explanations about anxiety and love games with rules, silliness, and role reversals.
1. “Security system” detective game
Help your child understand that their body has a built-in “security system” — with stages like alert, alarm, assessment, and all clear.
When worry shows up (before school, at bedtime, during storms), pause together and gently ask:
“Which part feels active right now — alert, alarm, assessment, or all clear?”
Make it playful by acting out each state with silly sounds or gestures. Then guide them back toward calm:
“Let’s help your assessment and all clear come back online. Are we safe right now? What helps us know that?”
2. “Fortunately / Unfortunately” worry stories
Borrowing directly from a game Cohen recommends, one person starts: “Fortunately, it was a beautiful day and we were walking to school.” The other adds: “Unfortunately, a giant puddle appeared and we had to jump over it!” and you keep alternating. You can gently weave in their real worry (for example, “Unfortunately, I felt scared about going into the classroom”) and then bring the story back around to safety and success.
This game helps kids loosen the grip of “what if” thinking and see that negative moments can be part of a larger narrative that returns to “okay enough.”
3. “Spark, flame, water” feelings chart
Using Cohen’s flame model, you and your child draw a simple chart with three columns:
Spark (what sets it off), Flame (what the feeling/moment looks like), and Water (what helps cool you down).
Before or after a tricky situation (for example, a dentist visit, a sleepover, or a test), you fill in the columns together: “Spark: seeing the dentist chair; Flame: tummy hurts and want to run; Water: squeeze my hand, think of our silly joke, breathe like a dragon.” Treat it playfully—draw little flames and water droplets, add stickers—so that noticing and planning for big feelings feels creative rather than clinical.
For tweens and teens (approximately ages 10–17)
Older kids may roll their eyes at “games,” but they still benefit from playful, respectful interactions that let them save face and feel competent. Here, play might look more like shared humor, collaborative problem‑solving, or gentle exaggeration.
1. “What‑if to what‑is” challenge
Cohen encourages shifting from “what if” spirals to “what is” reality testing in a lighthearted way.
With your tween or teen, you can treat worry thoughts like a slightly dramatic character: “What‑If Wally is really loud tonight. Let’s check what is actually happening.” Together, you write or voice out a few “what if…” thoughts, then respond with “what is” facts plus one small, doable step, keeping a tone that is collaborative and slightly humorous rather than dismissive.
2.“Scary, fun, and safe” micro‑challenges
Drawing on Cohen’s idea of doing something “scary, fun, and safe” every day, invite your teen to co‑design tiny exposure challenges that feel a bit stretchy but not overwhelming.
Examples: ordering their own food, sending an email to a teacher, trying a new activity for 10 minutes, or speaking up once in class. To keep it playful, you might rate each challenge on a joint “fear/fun meter” (with doodles or emojis) and celebrate attempts, not just outcomes.
3. “Second chicken” check‑ins with a twist
For teens who bristle at obvious reassurance, you can still use the “second chicken” idea in a more grown‑up tone: “On a scale from freaked‑out chicken to calm chicken, where are you right now? Where do you think I am?” This opens a low‑pressure conversation about how each of you is reading the situation, gives you a chance to model calm, and invites them into their own “assessment” rather than letting the alarm system make all the decisions.
You can even trade roles sometimes—letting them be the calm one while you jokingly narrate exaggerated worries—to give them practice inhabiting a grounded stance.
How does this fit into psychiatric care?
Playful parenting is not a replacement for therapy, medication, or other structured interventions when needed. Instead, it is a powerful everyday tool that strengthens the parent‑child relationship, supports the nervous system, and helps kids practice moving from alarm back to “all clear” in the context of safety and connection. For many families in my practice, integrating ideas from The Opposite of Worry has made the work of healing feel lighter, more hopeful, and more relational—offering not just fewer symptoms, but more moments of joy. Your child spends every day with you, but often only one hour per week with their therapist. Your small but intentional actions can make a huge difference.
If you are curious about how to use these strategies with your own child—especially if anxiety is affecting daily life—check out the book or identify some ideas from this blog post. We can explore a personalized plan together in session, tailored to your child’s age, temperament, and unique family context.