"My three year keeps hurting my 15 month old. Sometimes they play nicely, then out of the blue he'll just shove her over. We do timeouts and lectures all day long, but it doesn't help." – Claudia
Henry, age 3, is playing with Sophie, 15 months,
by grabbing a toy away from her. Sophie loves his attention and giggles at this interesting game, especially because he restores the toy to her every
time. But Henry is getting rougher each time, and Sophie is clinging harder to the toy. He wrenches it away from her. Sophie bursts into tears. Henry,
feeling guilty, says “You act like a baby!” and reaches out and shoves her down, hard. Now Sophie is wailing.
If dad had noticed the game getting rougher, he could have intervened to prevent this upset by getting between the kids and engaging in the game: “Hey, what about me? Take the toy from someone your own size, why don’t you? Waaaaaa…..You took my toy!”
There would have been giggling all around, giving Henry the opportunity to discharge some tension around having to “share” everything in his life with
his sister, and his guilt about wanting to take things back from her. Dad could even have built some sibling solidarity by having the kids team up
Prevention is always the best policy, when we notice hard feelings brewing. But Dad, being human and a parent, was trying to do three other things and
simply glad for a moment of quiet. With little kids, the mood can change so quickly. So what should Dad do now?
Should he send Henry to a timeout? That's what experts have been recommending for years, but that will just make the child feel more disconnected
from his parents, which is already part of the problem causing this behavior. There are better ways to help Henry treat his sister well. Most children
have a hard time with their complex emotions about the new baby -- usually a combination of protectiveness and a desire to flush the baby down the
toilet -- and feel guilty. Over time, they develop a relationship with their sibling, but resentment often lurks below the surface, looking for expression.
When the pressure of their tangled-up feelings pushes them to lash out, and parents react with timeouts, the child is confirmed in his conclusion that
he’s a bad kid for being jealous of his sibling.
But does he spend the timeout resolving to be nicer? No, like any normal human, he reviews why he’s right, his parents are unfair, and everything
was so much better before his rotten sibling was born. The chip on his shoulder solidifies. That’s why timeouts don’t usually stop kids from hitting.
Here's a whole article on why Timeouts and other punishments actually cause more misbehavior.
Spanking teaches children to hit, so it's the worst parental intervention (as substantiated by thirty years of research). And a "consequence" like taking
away a privilege will just increase his resentment of his sister, which isn't a good foundation for a loving relationship. So let's agree that punishment
of any kind will make Henry feel worse and act worse. To stop the hitting, we need to help this child with the feelings that are driving his aggression.
But that doesn’t mean we don’t set a firm limit against violence.
First, Dad scoops up Sophie, who is howling. He resists the urge to yell at Henry. In fact, he resists interacting with Henry until he can
get himself a bit calmer. So he summons up all his nurturing and focuses on Sophie, which helps shift him from his murderous-don’t-you-mess-with-my-baby-self
to his nurturing-parent-self.
Dad: “Ouch! Looks like that hurt." Sophie nods, crying hard."Getting pushed can hurt your body... and your feelings, too! .... Tell me about it, Sophie.” Sophie cries even louder for a moment, as we all do when we’re hurt and receive loving attention. Soon, though, she recovers and reaches for the toy,
which is abandoned on the floor. Dad puts her down with the toy, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and turns to Henry. He knows Henry is feeling
frightened, and no learning will happen in that state, so he tries to create safety by being warm and matter-of-fact, not accusatory.
Dad: “Ouch! That hurt your sister, didn’t it?”
Henry: “I guess. She's a cry-baby.”
Dad doesn't take the bait. He gets down on the floor next to Henry, making eye contact. He’s breathing deeply, working to stay calm and kind. Naturally,
his face is serious. He starts by acknowledging Henry's experience.
Dad: “She certainly cries when she gets hurt, like the rest of us. I guess you must have been upset too, to push her. Sounds like that was hard for both of you. What happened, Henry?”
Henry: “She wouldn’t give me my toy.” (Henry looks blank. Is he remorseless? No. He feels ashamed, and afraid of what Dad is
about to say. He's in "fight, flight or freeze" - in this case, freeze. That looks on the surface like he doesn't feel anything.)
Dad: “That was your toy and you wanted it?” (Dad is empathizing. Henry nods but doesn’t say anything.)
Dad:“You must have been really upset to hurt her... I'm sorry I wasn't here to help."
Is Dad blaming himself? No. He's modeling taking responsibility. That opens the door a bit for Henry to feel less defensive. He shoots a quick look at
Dad—Is it possible that he might understand?—and then looks away again.
Dad: "I hear you were frustrated with her. But hitting hurts. I won’t let you hit your sister.”
Henry glazes over and looks away. Dad knows Henry's trying to push down some big feelings that he needs help with. Dad moves in close, pulling Henry gently
Dad: “Sometimes you get REALLY mad at your sister, don’t you?”
Henry looks at him, testing.“I hate her.”
Dad: (Ignoring the "hate" bomb.) “Sometimes you get so mad it feels like hate. (Trying to go under the anger to connect with
the more vulnerable feelings that drive it.) I know you tell me it isn’t fair that she always gets to sleep with us. Maybe you think she gets everything, and you get left out?”
Henry (shouting) “I am left out! Why did you have to get a baby, anyway?! You never have time for me anymore! Why can’t you send her back?! She ruins everything!”
Dad: “You miss the way it used to be.”
Henry: "I hate everything!" He bursts into tears and buries his head in Dad’s shoulder. As he sobs, Dad says“You can cry as much as you need to. I am right here. I am ALWAYS here for you, no matter what, baby or no baby." He
isn't trying to stop Henry from crying. He's helping Henry feel safe enough to show him all that pain.
Sophie is initially distressed by Henry's crying, so Dad does the hardest part of this process—reassuring her and keeping her out of reach of Henry's
flailing feet at the same time as he tends to Henry. He has one arm around each child.
Dad: "It's ok, Sophie. Henry's just sad right now. I'm helping Henry with his feelings."
Finally, Henry is done crying, and snuggles on Dad’s lap. Sophie has wandered to the train track across the room and is happily chugging the trains around,
no longer listening.
Dad: "You know that I couldn’t love anyone more than you, right? You are the only Henry I have and you have the only Henry place in my heart. You are my boy and I am your dad and I will always love you, no matter what.”
Dad: "No matter how much Sophie gets, there is always more than enough for you. Maybe you worry sometimes that we love the baby more. But that is never true. You can always tell me if you’re feeling left out, or angry; you know that. I will always understand and try to help."
Dad: "What about hitting?"
Dad: "Well, it certainly hurts. But what happens when you hit Sophie?”
Henry: “I get in trouble.”
Dad: “Yes, that's what happens to you. And what happens to Sophie?”
Henry: “Sophie cries.”
Dad: “Why does she cry?”
Henry: “She doesn't like it.”
Dad: “That's right. And how do you feel inside when you hurt her?”
Henry: (Looking away)“Bad.”
Dad: “Yes, Henry. You feel bad, because when we hit it hurts the other person, and it also hurts our own heart. People are NOT for hitting. People are for loving. Just like your mom and I love and hug you. So what can you do instead of hitting your sister when you feel like hitting?"
Henry: "Get you?"
Dad: "Yes, use your words and tell me. If you need help with your feelings, or to protect your toys, call me and I will always help you. What else?"
Henry: "Give her a different toy?"
Dad: "Yes, what a great idea! And if you’re really mad, could you turn around and hit the couch?"
Henry: "I guess so. But what I really want is one of those punching bags. It falls over."
Dad: “You mean instead of your sister?” Both Dad and Henry are smiling. (Is this mean? I don’t think so. It defuses the
tension. Sophie isn’t listening. And Dad quickly restates the limit.)
Dad: “That’s a good idea. Punching bags are made for falling down. Little sisters are made to love. Let’s consider a punching bag. But for now, I think you have some repair work to do with your sister. What could you do to help her feel safe with you again?”
Henry: "I could hug her."
Dad:“I know she would like that, if you were gentle. Would you like that?”
Henry:“Yeah. Sometimes she’s ok. For a baby.”
Is it necessary to make Henry feel bad about what he did? No. He already feels bad. He knows it was hurtful; he just couldn't help himself in the press of all these hateful feelings. Yelling, punishing, timeouts, and giving him the cold shoulder would all make him feel worse, convincing him that his parents don't love him anymore, no matter what they say. In that case, why not just make his sister's life miserable?
Instead, what does Dad do?
1. Gives Henry the message that while actions must be limited -- hitting hurts and is not allowed -- all feelings are acceptable. That's
essential for kids to learn to regulate their emotions and behavior. Otherwise, they push those feelings away, out of conscious control, and
then "act out" the feelings they can't express.
2. Helps Henry “express” the emotions that have been eating at him and driving his aggressive behavior, so those feelings can begin to dissipate. This
melts the armor that's been collecting around Henry's heart, so he feels less angry at his sister, and more cooperative in general.
3. Reconnects with him, so Henry knows he's valued, not displaced. Feeling disconnected from
parents is one of the most common reasons children hit.
4. Reassures Henry that he can tell his parents how he feels and get help, so he isn't left on his own
in his struggle to control himself.
5. Helps Henry notice that hitting not only hurts his sister—it hurts his own heart, too. He doesn't want to be that person.
6. Builds Henry’s capacity for self-reflection, which will help him to manage himself in the future.
7. Builds Henry’s empathy for his sister by focusing on hitting being a hurtful way to interact with another person, rather
than simply labeling it as a bad act.
8. Helps Henry imagine other ways to handle his feelings in the future.Henry is open to this because he wasn't made to feel like a terrible
person, which would have put him on the defensive.
9. Empowers Henry to “repair” his relationship with his sister. Notice this is different than requiring an apology. It's only possible
once the child has calmed down, and if they don't feel blamed. Let children choose the repair, and let them choose when to do it. Otherwise, the ritual
forced apology builds resentment, not repair.
10. Helps Henry smile about the situation, which discharges fear and helps Henry understand that feelings aren't permanent—they can be expressed, and then we feel better. This jump-starts the healing process inside Henry. Laughter
is one of the best ways to shift out of upset feelings so they don't get stuffed and drive future aggressive behavior.
11. Helps Henry past his anger to an emotionally generous state where he can acknowledge that he has good feelings about his sister. Choosing
to hug his sister to make up makes him feel like a nurturing big brother, so he's more likely to act like one. But notice that it has to be his choice.
What does Henry learn? He can't send his sister back, and he can't always get his way, but he gets something even better: a parent who loves all of him,
no matter what. That's what will gradually form the core of an unshakeable internal happiness that will allow him to handle whatever life throws at
him – including, eventually, being a great big brother.