Parenting Blog

"The main difference between a master and a beginner is that the master practices more." -- Yasha Heifetz, Master Violinist

You've probably noticed that things work better with your kids when you're in a good mood. At least half of the time when we get irritated, annoyed, impatient, or frustrated at our kids, it's because we're already feeling unhappy.  Then there's a spark, our bad mood flares, and before we know it we're in the middle of a firestorm.

The other half of the time our anger is "justified" in the sense that  our kids may well act in ways that trigger us.  But that's only true if we see ourselves in opposition to our child.  The truth is, we're on the same side.  Our job is to nurture and guide, theirs is to grow and learn.  We're not really raising children -- we're raising adults.  If we can take that long view, we're more likely to remember that when our kids trigger us, we have an opportunity to teach them many things. 

Like how to regulate themselves emotionally. 

Guess how they learn that?  From us.  Kids don't have the neural pathways to calm their own turbulent feelings.  Everything seems like an emergency to them.  But when we stay calm in the face of their upsets, they calm down too -- and their bodies learn from that experience how to calm their stormy emotions. That's how those neural pathways develop.

So our child is counting on us to de-escalate the situation, because he can't.  If we can see things from his perspective,  and stay calm, he'll learn emotional self-regulation that will last for the rest of his life.

That's the trick, of course.  Most of us are still working on the "staying calm" part. Welcome to humanity.
 
But there’s really no magic in staying centered.  It’s just practice.
So each and every time you find yourself yelling, just stop.  In mid-sentence, if you have to. 
Pick yourself up.  
And any pieces you may have broken around you
...and start again.

Embrace yourself with love.
That’s always the place to start.
Then go hug your kids.

Right now, soak in your own love, self-acceptance, forgiveness, adoration.
You are more than enough, just the way you are.
This is what they mean by putting on your own oxygen mask first.
How can you stay calm? 
The same way you get to Carnegie Hall --
Practice, Practice, Practice.
Breathe...

"2 year-olds argue with their parents 20 to 25 times an hour." -- Child Development

Between 12 and 15 months, we learn a wonderful word:  "No!"
It's an ecstatic discovery.
We learn we are separate, autonomous beings with a will of our own who can impact what happens in the world.
We delight in saying, "No!" at every opportunity.
Our "No" is actually a big "YES!."
It's an awesome, pure expression of our life force.

After the first cute "No" or two, our parents are usually less than delighted.  In fact, this developmental stage launches what's often called the "terrible twos."

Rarely are our ecstatic expressions of primal life force affirmed.  Do you remember your father or mother saying:
"Oh, thank you for expressing your No so passionately!"
"I so appreciate your affirming your autonomy so directly!"

More common messages are along the lines of:
"Do what I tell you!"
"Don't you dare talk back!"
There may the threat—or the reality—of punishment or physical force.  There is almost always the withdrawal of love, as parents walk away when little ones tantrum.

Being powerless and utterly dependent, we soon learn to hide our No's.  We begin to resort to whining, passive resistance, manipulation, or very often, actual denial of our needs.

So when our little one falls in love with the word NO! alarm bells start ringing for us.  We think we MUST teach him who's in charge, right away.

But this isn't about who is in charge.  Your child knows you're in charge.  This is about your child's right to his feelings, even while you honor your responsibility to keep him safe and healthy.

Can you say "No" in a way that honors your own truth, while still staying in positive contact with your child? Your "No" doesn't need to be a bludgeon— simply a strong statement of your position in a duet dance of negotiation.  Here's how:

1. Don't take it personally.  This isn't about you or your rules.

2. Remember that this is a positive developmental stage that is giving your child the ability to stand up for his own truth later in life.

3. Sidestep the NO! by giving your child a choice.  He says NO! to a bath?  Ask him if he wants to fly up the stairs or dance up.

4. Sidestep the NO! by making your request into a game.  "Climb on my back, Cowboy, we're headed for the bathtub in the hills!"

5. Sidestep the NO! by honoring his autonomy without giving up your request.  "NO Bath right now?  Ok, Sweetie.  But when you're ready, you can look at the plastic containers in the kitchen and be in charge of which ones you want to play with in the tub."  You won't be able to restrain him from the bath.

6. Use reverse psychology.  "Whatever you do, DON"T get in the bathtub.  NO, NO, NO, don't turn on the water!! NO, NO, NO, don't take off your clothes!!"

7. Remember that you can always find a way to meet both your needs.  If you keep your sense of humor, and honor both your own NO and your child's, you can always find a way to get past the word NO --  to the YES! energy right behind it. 

(Special thanks to Robert Gass, who inspired today's message.)  

"I miss my baby.
I can't believe that she's a going-to-school girl,
a climb-into-my-own-chair-and-make-my-own-sandwich girl,
a brush-my-own teeth girl,
a take-off-my-coat-and-hang-it-on-the-hook girl,
a go-to-the-toilet-and-wipe-my-own-bum girl.
Where's that baby who didn't want to do anything but snuggle up with me? The cuddly, chubby one who was constantly on my hip as I made dinner, vacuumed the living room, talked on the phone?  My back is very grateful that she's a do-it-myself girl. The rest of me gets a bit sad from time to time."
    --www.flickr.com/photos/notcatherinezeta/

Everyone who loves also grieves. 

Parents have a unique relationship with grief, though, because parents face constant loss -- even parents with healthy children who thrive and grow to become happy, productive adults.  As our children age, we lose them over and over.  And even if we remain close to them as they establish their own families, if we have done a good job as parents we ultimately lose our children to their own lives.

Of course, we receive the solace of the next, often wonderful, stage, but that doesn’t erase the profound loss of the infant’s earliest milky smiles, the toddler’s adoring gaze, the preschooler’s unmatched exuberance, the six year old still climbing onto our lap for a bedtime story. Even now, with a 14 year old and a 19 year old, I see in their faces both the toddlers they were and the adults they are becoming. "Stop growing up!" I want to plead.  "You're old enough!"

But children can't learn to fly if we are, even unconsciously, clutching at their ankles. We all know parents who undermine their children’s development out of their own needs.  How can we avoid that?

I think the secret is to recognize the loss that comes with each new stage of our child's life.  If we can honor that grief, we can more fully revel in the joy each age brings. 

There's an old idea that our tears at a funeral are what free our loved one, floating him or her into the next world.  I think there's a parallel here.

I think our willingness to honor our mixed feelings about our children growing up is part of what frees them to try their wings...and to fly.

"We need 4 hugs a day for survival. We need 8 hugs a day for maintenance. We need 12 hugs a day for growth."  --  Virginia Satir

Sometimes I hear from parents that their child is a bottomless pit.  If your child is sucking up all you can give and still not thriving, you might be putting your energy in the wrong place. Kids who hunger for your connection to the point that they act out usually need that connection on a non-verbal level. 

>Spending time with them baking cookies might make them happy because they get to lick the bowl, but it doesn't fill their deeper hunger to be held, physically and emotionally.  Spending time reading to him might be intellectually stimulating, but it won't answer his deeper questions about whether he's loved and valued for who he is. Teaching her to throw a ball might be a good bonding experience, but if she's hitting her little sister because she's afraid you don't love her as much, it's an indirect (and less effective) route to healing her fear.

If your child feels like a bottomless pit, try this experiment: 

1. Every day, spend 15 minutes snuggling.  Revel in touching your child.  Don't structure this time.  Just kiss him on the nose, nuzzle her hair, let him sink into the comfort of your lap. Even if your kid is eight, treat him as if he's a baby, just beginning to be verbal. Play the physical games you played when she was tiny.  If you tickle, be very gentle and stop immediately if your child asks you to. Mostly, just snuggle and lavish attention.

2. If your child talks, listen closely and commiserate, so he feels understood. Resist the urge to lecture or teach. Drop any agenda except appreciating your child. Mostly, just be physical, not verbal.

3. Turn resistance into a game. Sometimes when parents begin this experiment, kids resist because they aren't sure they trust the idea of more closeness.  They ridicule the parent or wriggle away.  If this happens, turn it into a game.  Become a hapless bumbler, begging for a hug or kiss.  "I just need my fix of Eli" you might say.  "Just one little hug."  Crawl after him, grab an ankle to kiss, and if he wriggles away again, let him escape while continuing your clumsy pursuit.  "I'll never give up...I can't live without kissing you!"  Take your cues from him, but if he lets himself be caught, kiss him all over, saying "Oh, I just need these delicious Eli kisses....Finally!"  Notice I'm not recommending tickling, which can make kids feel over-powered.  Giggling, on the other hand, is a great way to let off pent-up emotions (and much more fun for the parent than tears), as long as the child feels in control of the game.

4. Welcome all emotion.  Parents frequently report that they have a lovely time with their child only to have the kid throw a violent tantrum later that day.  Kids often respond to increased closeness by letting out emotions they haven't felt safe showing you before.  So when you end the play session, if your child creates a crisis or suddenly becomes difficult, don't be surprised. Remind yourself that this is a good thing, a result of increased trust;  she's using this opportunity to heal old wounds. Set whatever loving limit you need to ("We can't play more now but we will have special time again tomorrow.") If your child responds with anger or upset, offer empathy and hold her while she cries.  ("That makes you really sad. That's ok.  Everybody feels sad and needs to cry sometimes.") If she's mad, that's ok too, just empathize and she'll almost certainly collapse into tears. Afterwards, she'll feel closer to you and more cooperative.

If you have a hard time getting into this experiment, pull out your child's baby pictures.  Go through them together, oohing and ahhing about how cute he was ("Almost as cute as you are now!" you say with a kiss.)  This will put both of you in touch with a simpler time when your adoration of your child was easily accessible -- and your physical connection touched both your souls.