When Less Is So Much More In Supporting Your Big Reactor
As I guide parents through the reflection and analysis of the challenging situations they are struggling with, a key factor almost always at play is that parents are doing too much...talking, teaching, correcting, reasoning (or trying to)...when their kids are acting out or melting down, even when they know that less is more. It's just so freak'in hard to control ourselves in the heat of that moment when we are triggered by our kids' worrisome/scary/harmful behavior.
I was inspired to hone in once again on this phenomenon because I also have a great story from the trenches that I wanted to share. It's a powerful, real life example of how less is almost always more with big reactors, and how you sometimes have to throw out a lot of the advice you have read that may work with other children but rarely works with these kiddos. I hope it will provide insight and also inspire you to continue to do the hard work of managing your own big reactions—the one thing you do have control over.
Toby and Stephen reached out because their five-year-old, Lucas, is having a very tough time with the birth of his new baby brother. He alternates between spewing terrible venom that is very disturbing to them, especially at Toby, while also clinging to her like Velcro.
In our first consult, this is what Toby shared:
Lucas is saying horrible things, especially to me, and also about his new baby brother, that makes the old "I HATE YOU!" seem totally benign. He threatens to hurt us in all sorts of ways that can be shocking. I don't know where he gets this language or these ideas at his age. It's not language we ever use.
I am so upset and disturbed by this. I feel attacked by such hateful words. I tell him that he is being unkind and is hurting my feelings. I beg him to stop. This just leads to more escalation. And also more intense clinging.
We have also tried to correct him, telling him he can't talk like that. More escalation. He ramps up and comes on with even more intensity. Shouldn’t there be some consequence for talking this way? We don't know what to do. It feels so wrong.
We start by thinking about what is beneath Lucas' words--what he is feeling and trying to cope with--and agree that he is hurting and scared about the perceived loss of Toby to whom he is fiercely attached. I help Toby and Stephen see that Lucas' behavior is not purposeful; he’s just acting out the strong and confusing feelings of loving his mom and depending on her so deeply, and at the same time feeling angry that she can’t meet his every need in every moment as she had done previously, before the birth of the new baby.
Accordingly, I suggest that they not address Lucas' actual words, or correct or punish, as that almost always results in further escalation and also risks amplifying his worry about losing his mom—causing more disconnection than the connection he needs.
Instead, I recommend they speak to the underlying feelings that are getting expressed through the unacceptable language: "I know it's really hard to have a new baby in our family. It's a big change. I am still here for you and will always be here for you.” (I have an entire blog on this topic of how to respond to unwanted language.)
In our second consult, here is what Toby reports:
We tried not directly responding to his hurtful words and instead validated his feelings--telling him we knew he was angry—as you suggested. He just got even madder—refuting any feelings we tried to validate, yelling at us that he is not mad.
Then I stopped trying to do anything. When he says hurtful things I now just look at him with a neutral face and tone and say, "Mm-hmm." And it turns out, that's what works. He stops, and softens.
This story took my breath away. I was overcome by and in awe of Toby's incredible sensitivity and the self-control she had to muster to not get reactive in the face of her child's attack; that she was able to be Lucas' rock and not fuel his flame. This enabled her to take a step back and accept that none of the strategies, including mine, were working. She saw that using any language at all, even empathetic words, backfired in these moments. So she pivoted and used what she was learning about Lucas to come up with the most seemingly simple, sensitive solution. With minimal language and a calm and compassionate demeanor, she powerfully communicates to Lucas that she hears, sees and accepts him, and that she is not afraid of his feelings—she can handle them. She gives Lucas exactly what he needs in those moments, which ends up greatly reducing, not escalating, the unwanted and unhealthy language and behavior, and allows them to maintain the connection he so desperately needs right now.
This is what sensitive, attuned, "gentle parenting" looks like.
I am not suggesting that this is a panacea and will always work. Nothing does. I share it because it illustrates several important points:
There is no one-size-fits-all approach to what works with kids, especially big reactors.
You know a lot about your child. Taking the time to reflect on your interactions can help you see how strategies you are using that may sound good in theory aren't so effective in practice. In this case, even validation of emotions--the supposed, universal fix-all tactic--can further agitate kids who find it intrusive and overwhelming to be told how they feel.
Less is almost always more.
Here's another recent example of the problem with making a big deal over children's vitriol and how less is often more.
Arthur, 6, asks for ice cream right before dinner. His parents, Marshall and Annie, lovingly and calmly acknowledge Arthur's desire and explain that ice cream is not a choice before a meal. He can have a small scoop as a dessert. This is not acceptable to Arthur who persists, begging with increasing vehemence. Historically, Marshall and Annie had often given in to his demands out of sheer exhaustion, so he is motivated to keep pushing. But on this, Marshall and Annie stay firm.
Arthur gets increasingly angry. He shouts at them, stomps around for a bit, swipes a full laundry basket off of the table, then storms up to his room, slamming his door multiple times. After a few minutes they hear him happily playing in his room. About 20 minutes later he comes downstairs and is calm. Annie comments on his doing a good job calming down. In response, Arthur says: "You were mean and naughty." Annie, troubled by this perceived disrespect, angrily states that clearly he isn't ready to move on and sends him back to his room. He re-escalates and the cycle continues, with everyone miserable.
This is a common scenario for many families I work with. They get stuck on taking their children's words literally and feel the need to teach them a lesson, which ends up escalating the situation and the child learning little.
The way I interpret this situation—granted, from the comfort of my "office", not face-to-face with a spiraling child—is that Arthur had done a great job coping after a difficult disappointment. He took a break, calmed himself, and returned to the family, ready to move on. The important lesson was learned--that mom and dad will stick to important limits and can tolerate his upset. Telling his mom she was being mean and naughty was just his way of saying he is still mad that she didn't give him what he wanted. He wasn't out of control and he even said it without much vigor. (I often find that our feisty ones need the last word, and to not eat crow. My sense is that was what was behind Arthur's accusation in that moment.)
My guess is that if Annie had not reacted to Arthur's words, and instead said something like, "I know, not getting ice cream was so disappointing," or, maybe if she had just looked at Arthur with compassion and said, "mm-hmm," the moment would have passed and they would have reconnected and moved on. (Of course, the incident is over, so this exercise is to learn from the experience to apply to similar future incidents.)
And what about the laundry basket, Annie and Marshall wonder? Shouldn't there be some consequence for knocking it down?
Hmm, that's a tough one. On the one hand, part of me thinks it's ancillary and to just let it go. This is not the hill to die on. It was a reactive move that was harmless. Making an issue of having him clean it up runs the risk of overshadowing the important lesson about accepting healthy limits.
At the same time, I do think it's important for Arthur to take responsibility for his actions; that having his parents clean up his mess is not a helpful lesson. Most importantly, that is how Annie and Marshall feel and so we address it.
First, we note that If they had a chance for a redo, the following needs to be taken into consideration:
There should be a good period of time for reconnection before focusing on the dumped clothes.
When it comes time for the clean up, they shouldn't make a big deal out of it. Using a lot of language to try to make it into a lesson about not being destructive with his body would only launch him into shame and reactivity, with nothing learned.
The clean up is not something they can make Arthur do, so they won't go down that rabbit hole and promulgate yet another power struggle.
So, here is what we come up with:
After his dinner and ice cream, they would nonchalantly say, "Let's work together to put those clothes back in the basket." No mention of the incident that precipitated the whole todo.
If he refuses to clean up, they would respond: "In our family, we all clean up the messes we make. So you have two great choices. Option #1 is that you do your job and help clean up. Then you will have all your time for books/screentime/playtime before bed. Option #2 is that you choose not to clean up, and we have to do your job for you, which means we need to take that time from books/screentime/playtime (whatever "extra" you want to choose). You decide." (Here's more on how to use the "Two Great Choices.")
And the slamming of the door? That we all agree is best to totally ignore. He did it twice, there was no damage, he was clearly trying to get a reaction which didn't happen and he stopped.
No doubt, these are very tricky, complex scenarios to problem-solve. Every child is unique and parents are not a monolithic group. They have their own temperaments and their own beliefs and values. So there is never one right answer or approach, which is why you see experts often giving conflicting advice. Given this reality, my commitment is to always make evident the thought process behind my guidance: how I analyze these situations, what I think the child is trying to communicate with their behavior, and what I think the child needs (which is often quite different from what they want). In so doing, my clients can make their own assessment as to what approach makes the most sense for their child and family.