Eight year old Jessie is always "on". You know the type. She always seems to be performing for the adults around her. She talks much too loudly. She smiles much too widely. She pushes herself front and center in every activity. She takes up an acre of space and drives adults to distraction and back. Encounters with Jessie require that I be my most tolerant adult self.

My ten year old daughter, by the way, likes her a lot. She tells me that on the playground and away from the grown ups, this kid can be generous and fun. Other children appreciate her lively imagination and her outgoing personality. They just don't like being around her where there are adults.

In an attempt to be at least as understanding as my 10 year old, I've been giving Jessie a lot of thought. Just what is it that makes her need to turn on 1000 watts of power when any adult comes into view? Why, I wondered, does she seem so hyper alert to when adults are watching? Then I learned more about her mother.

Jessie's Mom is out-going, talkative, and engaging. A vice-president of a large corporation, she is used to being listened to and respected. In her valiant efforts to respond to the demands of her job and her very real desire to be there for her daughter, she sometimes turns herself inside out to do it all. At every school event, it is certain that at some point she will slip into the hall to use her cell phone. During intermissions, halftimes, and breaks in the action at school shows and sporting events, she pulls out papers that she scans efficiently while somehow also chatting with those around her. Everything seems to have some of her attention. Nothing seems to have all of it--including Jessie.

Jessie has learned (as all children do) just what it takes to hook Mom. Although it's true that they are both extroverts, Jessie isn't just imitating her mother. It's far more complicated than that. In order to get her mother to notice her--even for a few moments--she has figured out that she needs to be dazzling. Nothing else does it. This Mom withdraws from whining or tantrums. She doesn't notice quiet requests for time. Anything low-key is lost on her. What this Mom responds to most readily and often is star-power. So star power is what Jessie gives her.

To Jessie, every other adult is a rehearsal audience for the big event--moments with Mom. She practices diligently to master what is necessary to get adults engaged. Although she is only eight, she is a pro. She is also emotionally insecure. Convinced that she isn't enough unless she is shining, this child simply can't settle down in her mother's company. Mom sees and approves of the shining daughter. She doesn't see the scared little girl who needs to know that her mother loves her even when she isn't "on stage".

A friend of mine, observing Jessie, said it well. "This child needs to be able to relax in her parent's love." Mom's lap should be the safe place where Jessie can be herself and be accepted and loved and cherished, especially when she is doing absolutely nothing. There doesn't seem to be room in this family for Jessie to just "be." But love for being, not for performing, is what she needs most. It is that kind of love that is the basis of self-esteem and confidence. It is that kind of love that is essential for the development of the stable core self we all need to manage the uncertainties of life.

I was lucky. I had this kind of resting place early in life. My grandmother was the kind of person who always made room in her day (and her lap) for a child to just be and be loved. I remember the feeling of being close to her, of hearing the low murmur of sweet words into my hair. I watched her do the same with my kids when they were young. She certainly had plenty of other things to do. She sometimes told the children that they had to wait for this or that to get done. But often enough she would find a way to put down what she was doing to gather a child into her arms to just be quiet together for a few minutes.

Grandma intuitively understood a basic truth: Giving a little of what is needed--now--is much easier and more efficient than dealing with the increasingly creative and frantic efforts of a child whose needs aren't being met. It's not long before a child who can count on hugs being available doesn't need the particular hug anymore. Easily satisfied, she or he detaches and goes on to the next interesting thing in child life. But if hugs are hard to get, if time with total attention is hard-won and rare, kids will do whatever it takes for however long to get it. Uncertain that there will be another hug, these children can't afford to let go of the one they've got.

"Resting in a parent's love." I like the phrase. No matter how old they get, our children need to know that we love them just for being who they are.

Dr.Marie advises:

To help children be secure in your love . . .

• Show them often that it is enough that they just be.

• Remember to give attention often so that children don't need to learn to demand it.