Hate Me Now, Thank Me Later: How to raise your kid with love and limits

2. Don’t be emotionally bullied by your child. Emotionally wimpy parenting leads to emotionally fragile kids.

3. A child who has too much power often becomes anxious.

4. Catering to your child’s every whim can lead to a child who is self-centered and lacks resilience.

5. Look long-term at a child who hasn’t faced consequences for behavior and, therefore, never learned accountability: Would you want to date this person as an adult?

6. If you say “If you do that one more time,” mean it. Consistent follow-through is essential for a child’s emotional safety and your sanity.

7. Keep your eye on the long-term goal of raising a lovely child. Remember your mantra: hate me now, thank me later.

8. Talk less, give fewer choices, keep it simple. Less is clearly more.

9. When you say no, mean it.

10. Reverse negotiate. The more they argue, the less they get. It works like a charm.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_7b8ab37d-552a-5690-a153-48fbd2089034)

The Strength of the Bond (#ulink_7b8ab37d-552a-5690-a153-48fbd2089034)

We do not write the story of childhood with a dry-erase board, we write with a permanent Sharpie.

—Sue Enquist, Hall of Fame softball player and coach

Years ago I worked with a seventy-five-year-old widower who was struggling with his return to dating after a long and loving marriage. In talking about his current relationship, he brought up the way his mother had treated him as a child. Then a lightbulb went off, and he asked me: “Why is it that I have been alive for seventy-five years, and I keep talking about the first eighteen?”

Because the first eighteen are when you learn to love. Your parents are your first and most formative relationship. This connection is the stuff that grows children into well-adjusted adults. Or not. The devastating, lasting effect of a weak parent-child bond is a common denominator in the lives of many of my patients.

A strong parent-child connection is the most crucial ingredient to self-esteem. How you feel loved as a child has a huge impact on how you see yourself, relate to the world, and give and receive love. How you are treated as a child informs your identity.

The long-term effect of missing out on a safe and secure bond is so powerful that it can lead to feelings of being disconnected or unworthy. Probably the most common refrain therapists hear, no matter how much their patients accomplish, is: “It is hard for me to receive love. Deep down, I still wonder if I am really lovable. I feel lonely and empty.” Without help, those who did not receive unconditional love may turn to love imposters such as food, alcohol, material acquisitions, and so forth.

On the other hand, kids who have loving connections to their parents—or, as shrinks say, who are securely attached—have an emotional tank that is full. This kind of bond fuels them for a lifetime of healthy relationships, first with themselves and then with others.

Most parents want to create that attachment, not drive their children into therapy. The vast majority of parenting mistakes are not malicious, but unconscious. We need to start parenting more consciously.

“Loving your child is an instinct. Good parenting is a teachable skill.”

—Harvey Karp, MD, pediatrician and author

Today parents are consciously trying to be more involved, but are we involved in the right way? Or are we trying so hard to be good at parenting that we miss the very essence of it: a loving bond?

Lasting bonds are forged through a combination of love, limits, and time. That’s the recipe for family peace.

Love

“My parents showered me with love. I know that my confidence today stems from all of that love.”

—David, University graduate student

Unconditional love is the single greatest gift you can give to your child. Knowing that we are lovable, regardless of what we achieve or how we behave, is the crux of self-esteem.

At thirteen, Bobby was already a competitive pitcher. At the end of the season, he was on the mound with the bases loaded and needed to strike out the next batter to win the league championship. All eyes were on Bobby as he threw ball after ball. He ended up walking the batter and losing the game for his team. He was devastated and cried all the way home, then cried himself to sleep.

The next morning he found a note his father had slipped under the door: “Dear Bobby, you will always be my MVP.”

Two years later, a tearful Bobby clutched that note as he gave his father’s eulogy. Because of it, he knew he would always feel loved. Because of it, his father would always be his hero.

Parenting is a true hero’s journey, a love affair of epic proportions, one that lasts a lifetime and even longer. You are the author of this love story, writing and starring in it daily.

When I was in medical school, I cared for a seventy-year-old woman with cancer. After examining her and giving her some pain medication, I asked if there was anything else that she needed. I will never forget her answer: “Yes, I really need my mum.”

Her mum had passed away twenty years earlier, and yet the very memory of her mother brought her great comfort. How lucky to have had that kind of parent.

That is what we are aiming for, an internalized, compassionate parent whom children carry in their heads and hearts throughout their lives. Creating that secure sense of love is the key to great parenting. A secure attachment forms when parents are consistently responsive and sensitive to the needs of their children. Such a bond is the ultimate in psychological padding: it offers a lifetime of buffering and creates emotional resilience. This tender and loving bond informs who your child will become. All great parenting has, as its foundation, a secure attachment. It’s like psychic cement. With this bond, parents build an emotional house of bricks, not straw, that can weather life’s inevitable huffs and puffs.

Love lays that strong foundation. To be truly seen and known—and adored because of it—is the highest form of romance.

“It is all about the connection. I want my daughter to feel how much I love her. I slow it down, I get low, I sit on the floor. I meet her where she is. I don’t parent from above. I want to reach her, eye to eye, soul to soul.”

—Father of three

Reaching your child and making that connection is everything. Sometimes, if you listen, you can hear even when there are no words.

During my residency, I spent six months on the pediatric floors. The pediatricians would meet and divide up the patients for the night. “Who wants death watch?” the senior resident asked callously. “She only has a few more days.”

With a heavy heart, I listened to the report of an eight-year-old girl who had become mute two years before, when both parents died from AIDS. Now dying from the same disease, she was in the hospital alone. At 3:00 A.M., I poked my head in to check on her. She was so small and frail. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling. I introduced myself. Her eyes did not move to meet mine. I started to fumble through her chart, knowing deep down it was pointless. I knew my job was to examine her and check her vital signs. But the girl continued to stare at the ceiling in silence as I struggled to fit the blood pressure cuff around her bony arm. Her skin was cracking and dry, her bones showed through her emaciated body. I felt helpless and disconnected.

So I put aside my futile doctor duties. I reached for a bottle of lotion. I rubbed it all over her cracked heels and legs. When I reached for her hand, her gaze met mine for the first time. Maintaining that eye contact, I continued to massage her in silence for the next thirty minutes. When I put my hand on the door to leave, I heard a little voice say, “Thank you.” I wept on the way back to my on-call room. The next morning on rounds, I learned that she had passed away at 5:00 A.M. I felt so grateful for our connection, however small, however brief.

We all yearn to feel deeply connected. Every child wants to be truly known and cherished.

Sometimes finding the keys to that connection requires a little detective work. In medical school a common mantra was “Listen to the patient, they will tell you the diagnosis.” If you truly listen to your children, they will tell you who they are.

“A good parent understands the mystery of their child. They put the puzzle pieces and clues together to see who is in front of them—not who they want, but who is really there.”

—Jonah, ten

Parents who remain curious and open will best be able to navigate the changing landscape that is childhood. They will continually try to understand their child, even when it’s challenging—as it is when your child turns out to be different from what you imagined. We have to let go of our own agenda and expectations.

“I was a college athlete. I come from a long line of athletes. My son loves art. Go figure. I always pictured having a son who would watch football with me and throw a ball around in the backyard. Instead we spent a lot of Sundays at Michaels art supplies. I would watch his eyes light up as he dreamed up his next project. I guess that is what being a good dad is all about, seeing your kid for who he really is, and then finding a way to love him for exactly that.”

—Father

Bravo, Dad. Let go of judgment until you truly understand—your kid, the situation, and how he or she sees it. Just listening makes your child feel loved.

“The first duty of love is to listen.”