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

—Paul Tillich, Christian philosopher

“Sometimes we forget to listen to our children. Yet listening can be very powerful. I think children, like adults, have a very strong need to be truly heard—not only heard for what they are saying on the surface, but for the feelings behind their words.”

—Laura Carlin, blogger and author

Hearing the meaning behind words takes careful active listening. Kids don’t always need you to fix the problem, much less to lecture, but they do need you to listen. Don’t under-estimate the value of listening without judgment. Really being heard and understood defuses big emotions and makes us feel comforted and connected.

Sometimes you have to set aside the small stuff that blocks connection. A mum was in the basement cleaning out toys to give to charity. She came upon a chess set with giant pieces, but a pawn was missing its bottom stand. The mum told her daughter, Ally, that they couldn’t give away an incomplete set. Mum went back to her sorting, but Ally was determined to give a whole chess set to someone.

Twenty minutes later, an excited Ally exclaimed, “Look, I fixed it!” Mum turned around to see both Ally and a white couch cushion covered in black paint. Ally had glued a wood block to make a new stand and had painted it black to match the pawn. Mum was so focused on the mess that she almost missed Ally’s joy at being resourceful and helpful.

“Oh, no, my couch ...’’ Mum started to stammer. She saw the light fading from her daughter’s eyes. Mum had to think like a chess player, two moves ahead, calming down and not squashing her daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Wow, that was so clever. Someone is going to be so happy to get that chess set now that you have fixed it,” she said.

By checking herself and seeing what her daughter saw, this mum did not let a little paint break a big connection. Later she was able to calmly remind Ally to lay down newspaper the next time she wanted to paint. Now, that is how the game of parenting is played.

“Our job as parents is to accurately reflect our children’s experience, not our own.”

—Catherine Birndorf, MD, psychiatrist and author

Sometimes we miss the point (in this example, the child’s kindness) because of our own priorities (in Mum’s case, an orderly house). But if you can see your child’s pure experience without projecting your own stuff onto it, you will connect with their truest self.

Once you recognize your children’s feelings, it’s vital for you to validate them.

“I have noticed that the boys who cry the most when they are hurt have parents who always said, ‘You’re fine, get up, that didn’t really hurt.’ I think that if the mum had just hugged them, their crying would have stopped a long time ago.”

—Boy, aged nine

This wise boy is really saying that if parents are more compassionate, instead of dismissing their children’s feelings, kids would pass through these phases sooner. From a psychiatrist’s standpoint, minimizing children’s feelings never makes them go away. It just leaves the child’s needs unmet, what we call empathic failure.

When children are hurt, they need to know they have a safe parent to go to for comfort. The basics of love and comfort allow a child to depend on you. It is only through that dependence that they learn the skills to be independent. When dependency needs are not met, they keep returning in adulthood. (Think arrested development.)

Sensitive, responsive parents do quite a balancing act. They help their children manage strong emotions by knowing when to let a child work through frustration and disappointment, which increases resiliency. Today’s parents are confused; they think hovering builds a secure attachment. But hovering and micromanaging are different from being an attuned parent.

Forming a strong, secure bond is not small stuff. It is everything. Children will carry it with them for the rest of their lives. Love freely, madly, deeply. Hug, kiss, cuddle, laugh, play. Be demonstrative. Tell your children how much you love them. If you aren’t your kid’s biggest fan, who will be?

Remember, childhood’s greatest legacy is how we felt loved.

Limits

While unconditional love is at the core of all great parenting, loving your child does not mean unconditional acceptance of behavior. As we saw in chapter one, kids feel safer when they have a parent firmly in charge.

“It is a great disservice to a child not to set clear and loving guidelines.”

—Beth Ekre, North Dakota Teacher of the Year

Remember: all feelings are welcome; all behaviors are not. Once guidelines are set, you have to enforce them consistently. Not following through with kids is like not finishing an antibiotic. One grows resistant bacteria, the other resistant kids.

But in this new age of parenting, we seem ambivalent about the concept of discipline. Maybe it is because we have confused being in charge with the harsh disciplinarians of generations past. These two are distinct. Discipline done right fosters self-esteem, whereas harsh or shaming discipline erodes self-esteem.

There is never a time when screaming, shaming, or hitting a child is justified. True discipline does not involve any of those things. It is an opportunity to teach your child. In fact, discipline means “to teach.”

Twelve-year-old Matthew was a tournament tennis player. His parents went to watch their son in the semifinals. Matthew was very agitated on the court. As his frustration increased, his sportsmanship began to nosedive. Matthew became so upset that after losing a critical point, he threw his racket.

Matthew’s dad walked on the court and calmly told his son that he was going to have to forfeit the match. The son began to cry and begged his father to let him continue the game, but his father stayed the course.

“I know that this is very upsetting for you, but throwing your racket is not OK,” Dad continued. “We care more about sportsmanship than we do about winning. I have given you two warnings about your body language and your attitude on the court, and now you’re going to forfeit the match. I feel so bad that you have to forfeit.”

The dad did not yell or berate his child in any way. In fact, he empathized with his son’s plight, and he took Matthew’s behavior as an opportunity to teach him a life lesson. Having a boundary, and a firm consequence when the child crosses the line, creates accountability. That in turn empowers children to police their own sense of right and wrong.

The key to setting effective limits is to let your child know that his or her feelings are valid, even empathized with, but the limit remains. This was a turning point for Matthew. He talks today with pride about his dad’s intervention. Matthew went on to win sportsmanship awards in both high school and college.

“Sometimes a child’s really bad choice can lead to a really great defining moment.”

—Educator

This father’s parenting was exemplary. His empathy for his child and calm delivery created an alliance and strengthened their bond. He loved his kid right through the lesson. He was a calm, clear leader. He did not react with anger or rage. He did not shame his child.

What if a furious father had run out on the court, screaming at his son, “You should be ashamed of yourself,” “You have humiliated me,” “How dare you,” etc., etc.? This type of intervention just does not work. You might control the behavior in the short run, but all you are really doing is eroding the parent-child bond in the long run.

Shaming is hard to shake. Trust me on this one. It’s toxic! It’s just destructive noise that chips away at a developing self. That’s not what parents are trying to do when they discipline their kids. But many times in my office, I have heard adults persistently repeat these comments to themselves with a deep sense of shame. The harmful words are no longer being said by the parents; they are now the negative narration in the child’s head. Shaming becomes internalized self-hatred.

“My mum constantly called me lazy when I was growing up. Now, no matter how hard I work or how much I achieve, I think I’m lazy.”

—Tales from the couch

“Every time I sang as a child, my mother told me I had a terrible voice and should never sing loudly. Would you believe to this day I still mouth ‘Happy Birthday’?”

—Alison, forty-two

“When I was little, my mum used to tell me that I had fat feet. I am always self-conscious when I wear sandals, and I am seventy-three.”

—Grandmother

It’s hard to cast off the messages of childhood and to silence the voice that is now on automatic replay.

The way you talk to your kids is the way that they will talk to themselves. You are the voice in your child’s head.

The effect of shaming words can’t be overstated. You are lazy, you’re selfish, you’re sneaky gets programmed into your offspring’s head and directly into their feelings of self-worth. Whether talking to your toddler, teen, or emerging adult, remember that your words will echo for years—and likely get passed down to your grandkids.

I recently walked into a basketball practice, and as I stepped one foot into the gym, I heard a mother berating her son: “Move it, you’re so slow. What is wrong with you? What is your problem?”

I must not have hidden my shock. The mum said, “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t talking to you!”

I laughed and answered, “Oh, that’s a relief! That’s just how you talk to your son!”

Someone who screams at her child is not an involved parent but an unenlightened parent. Can you imagine what is already programmed into this nine-year-old boy’s head?