The Power of Filling a Child’s Attention and Power Containers

Filling a Child’s Two Core Needs

Many years ago, when childcare centres in Ontario still offered kindergarten programs—before the launch of full-day kindergarten—I was a kindergarten educator. In my program was a 5½-year-old boy named Marcus, who arrived early each morning with his father. What unfolded daily between them was simple, consistent, and remarkably powerful.

Each morning, Marcus’s father would crouch down beside him and ask, “What would you like to do today?” Some days, Marcus chose to read books. Other mornings he preferred puzzles or building with Duplo. Whatever he chose, the two of them spent about twenty minutes together fully engaged in that activity. It became a quiet ritual—unrushed, predictable, and meaningful.

When it was time to transition, Marcus’s father always followed the same gentle pattern. He would give Marcus a clear cue by saying something like, “One more book and then I’ll leave for work.” After the activity ended, he stood up, gave Marcus a hug, and said goodbye. And that was it—no tears, no tugging at his coat, no lingering.

Marcus had received what he needed most at the start of his day: his father’s undivided attention.

Children have what I like to call “attention containers,” and they need to be filled daily. Marcus’s father did this beautifully and consistently. That one-on-one time allowed Marcus to fill his attention container in a positive, loving way, leaving him emotionally satisfied for the rest of the day.

There was another important element: choice. Each morning, Marcus decided how he wanted to spend that time. By choosing the activity, he was also filling his “power container”—his need for agency, autonomy, and influence in his world. When both his attention and power containers were full, he was regulated, content, and ready to say goodbye with ease.

Children who have their attention and power needs met show fewer power struggles, tantrums, and clingy behaviors. They are more cooperative, confident, and emotionally grounded. When a child feels seen and has appropriate influence over small parts of their world, they don’t need to seek attention through negative behaviours or resist everyday transitions. Their nervous system settles, their trust in their caregivers strengthens, and their overall resilience grows.

This kind of ritual doesn’t have to take place in the morning. It can happen at bedtime, after dinner, on the weekends, or any other time of day. What matters most is that the child receives focused attention and a sense of choice—when those two containers are filled, connection and cooperation follow naturally.

Marcus’s father may not have used the language of “containers,” but he intuitively understood his child’s needs. A few minutes of quality attention and a sense of choice were enough to anchor Marcus for the day ahead. It was simple, predictable, and profoundly effective.

Consider creating your own daily ritual—morning, evening, or any time that works for your family—where your child receives undivided attention and the freedom to choose. Even a few minutes can make a lasting difference in their confidence, cooperation, and emotional well-being.