Finding the why
I have told this story in many different places, but after doing a search here, I realize I have never blogged about it... at least as far as I can tell.
One of the most difficult aspects of parenting a child with a trauma history for many parents is the sometimes outright defiance. I should change that and rephrase it to perceived outright defiance because that is more accurate. Usually the story goes something like this: Child is engaged in an activity. Parent needs something done and asks child to do it. Child says no and goes back to activity. Escalation ensues.
Traditional, consequence-based parenting says that you can't let that happen. If you let a child get away with saying no to you like that, you have lost their respect. The child will become a brat at best and some sort of rude, lazy basement dweller or felon at worst. The parent must assert their control and their authority to make sure their child grows up to be a decent, hard-working, polite human being. Limits and consequences are essential to the formation of well-behaved children. And I will be the first in line to say I truly bought into this way of thinking at first. Raising a "brat" and being considered overly-lenient were not things I wanted to happen. I wanted to be a "good" parent.
Enter trauma.
Trauma doesn't read parenting books, nor does it play by traditional rules, and it took me a good eight years to slowly realize that my "good" parenting methods weren't working, weren't going to work no matter how diligently I made use of them. Something had to change, and it could not be my child; it had to be me. This story comes from the very beginning of the sea change we experienced in our parenting.
A few days ago, a parent posted a scenario very much like the one I began this post with asking for help with what to do in the face of outright defiance. I mentioned that I tend to use two phrases in these (thankfully now rare) situations. The first is, "This seems really hard for you right now. Can I help?" If that doesn't work, I move on to, "This all seems so hard for you, why don't I do it for you this time?" The reaction was what I expected. Complete shock that I would do the task for my child after they were defiant and very much able to do the job. I was asked if I really would do the task. So I pulled out my milk story and after a very long introduction, I get to the point of this post.
Our children have always had different jobs to do around the house, and the pouring of milk and setting the glasses around the table for dinner has always been one of them. For some reason that I have never quite figured out, this job was the one everyone detested the very most. People disliked it so much that I created an elaborate rotating schedule so that no one was stuck with it for an extended period of time. Every time it came to be a certain child's turn, it would become a scene, with the child refusing, me insisting, both of us ramping up and often falling over the cliff together. It was ugly. I would get knots in my stomach just thinking about asking this child to pour the milk. The whole thing was ridiculous and unnecessary, but I couldn't see that. All I knew was that I needed to be a "good" parent and insist that the task I asked to be done was actually completed. It was bad. It was also just the tip of the iceberg of issues that we would eventually need to work through.
Eventually, it slowly dawned on me that the whole milk debacle was not getting better, was certainly getting worse, and that life could not continue down the path we were on. Things needed to change, and I would need to be the one to make the first move.
One day, I decided to do something different. I took a deep breath and called the child down to pour the milk. By this time, all I had to do was mention pouring milk, and this child had lost all language capabilities and had moved on to grunting. Normally the grunting would send me 'round the bend as well, but this time I took a deep breath instead and tried something else. "This seems really hard for you right now. Would you like me to help?"
There was a surprised pause in the grunting. This was unexpected. There was baffled staring. I waited. This child was so far into disregulation that answering wasn't possible. "This seems so hard right now, can I do it for you this time?"
There was a slight nod. I poured the milk without any further comment. Life went on calmly. Something that hadn't happened in regards to milk pouring in a very long time.
The next time was a repeat of the first. Inwardly, I was gritting my teeth at this complete upheaval of all that I believed about parenting. I really wasn't convinced it was going to work, but we were literally at the end of our rope, so we were willing to try even ridiculous, impossible things.
The next time, the child was able to say yes to the offer of help. This continued several more times. Then, after several weeks of this, when asked to pour the milk, this child said okay in a voice similar to any of my other children (no one liked the job, remember) and poured the milk. There was no grunting. There was no raging. There was no hours-long battle. The milk was poured and that was it. It was never an issue ever again.
So, yes, now I will offer to do a job my child refuses. A child may outwardly seem able to do something but inwardly be totally incapable. Why might that be? Were they interrupted while they were working on something and transitioning away from it for a different task be too difficult? (Do adults even like to transition from something they are enjoying when told to do something else by another person? I think not.) Is the child afraid they won't be able to do the task well? If attachment isn't secure, there can be a whole host of fears surrounding the idea of not measuring up. Our emotional brains are not always rational. An insecure child could easily jump from not doing a task well to not being welcome in the family. Is the child worried about something else and this extra task puts too much stress on an already thin emotional margin? Has the child had enough water and protein? Without those key needs met, a brain cannot always function. Is the child over tired? Etc., etc. There are so many possibilities of what could be at play.
If we truly care about the other person in a relationship, then we consider all of the possibilities as to why they are acting a certain way. If all a parent is expecting is cheerful and immediate obedience all the time with no recourse for the child to say no, then I question whether it is truly a relationship. (And yes, for those in conservative homeschooling circles, I chose my words with care. I fell prey to the lie that children need to obey cheerfully and immediately or I was not a good parent for too long. It is not Scriptural or kind, and I will speak out against it as much as I can.) Love is not transactional.
In all parenting, it is worth taking a moment to pause and breathe when a child (or any other person for that matter) is seemingly defiant or rude. It is worth giving yourself that space to wonder what is going on. To ask what is the why behind the behavior. To decide to be on your child's team and figure out how you can help them succeed. Behavior is communication. What is you child trying to communicate?
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