Shifting Sands

Real Family Life, and its Possibilities

Before Christmas is too far from our memories I wanted to share a Christmas letter with a difference, written by a friend's daughter-in-law, Lena Dickson, who is now living in Sweden with her family.

So much of the time we share the joy and the fun of family life and hide the grittier side, unsure how it will be received, and perhaps scared we will be judged as parents, rather than supported. Reading this as a parent, I feel permission to be human, to make mistakes and to learn and grow as my children do.

"In the bleak midwinter"

Struggling wintermorning sun. The chill without seems a fitting background to the human drama within. Stressed parents have failed to hear the feelings behind a child's unreasonable demands and turned it into a topic for heated arguments. Another child has caught the vibes, showered me with abusive language and now sits fully dressed, refusing to go to school. I give up all adult pretensions, blurt out that I can't be bothered and shut myself in my room upstairs, air thick with hurt and pride, clock ticking.

A long while later the door opens and child says "You should ring school." He opens the window, climbs up and balances on the ledge. "I'll jump." "Why?" "Cause I hate you." "Why do you hate me?" "Cause you don't bother about me." "If you jump you can't hate me anymore. Sit on the bed instead and hate me." Inner battle rages. Why should I make the first move? Because deep down I want us to be close and he has shown he wants it too but can't without losing face. We're both frozen in our positions but I'm the adult. "It's been an awful morning, please darling, can we start again?" He has seen my littleness and sadness and there's a trace of hopefulness when he asks: "How?"

I've rung school with feeble excuses. Mugs of hot chocolate and ginger biscuits, candles lit on the kitchen table, a friendly chat marks the new beginning. Soon this event will be forgotten, just another building block of our lives. 'Just'? Maybe not.

Lena's refreshing honesty and self-awareness give me hope as a parent that I can recover again and again, and remind me that this is an essential and positive thing for children to experience. It is how they learn about sustaining an intimate relationship. Her words free me up to embrace whatever comes - the good, the bad and the ugly - and to keep discovering the hot chocolate in family life.

Domination or Co-operation

I always thought I wouldn't want to dominate my children... but now with a defiant toddler on my hands I'd love a little control!

The other day it took over an hour to change a nappy and dress my son. I was stumped. I tried every distraction I could think of (some highly creative despite growing frustration), a range of deep commanding voices, giving choices, the usual sticker rewards, voicing my frustration and even giving up... Nothing worked and life was on hold until I could solve it. In the end I think he just got tired of fighting and realised clothes weren't the devil's spawn.

It left me full of emotion - anger, frustration, helplessness, confusion to name a few... and of course scared. Yes, you heard me. Scared that I was not in charge and life would be a constant battle that I might lose, and be seen as an 'irresponsible parent' with an 'out of control child'. I started to ask myself if it was this fear that was actually in the way of connecting with my son in that moment, rather than my anger.

Luckily help and reassurance was at hand from a fellow mum who lent me a fantastic book How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk. At last, here was an alternative that made sense and was based on respecting my son as a fellow human being (albeit a small one right now!). Relief that perhaps 'I' didn't have to have the answer, that 'we' could find one together, and the approach would grow with him.

It's still not easy (I am only a week and 3chapters in) - I can't always find the way or the words in the moment, but am able to think more clearly and stay with his feelings rather than get lost in my own agenda. I don't get scared and angry as quickly, and am able to cope with my own emotions better (well most of the time!). The biggest reward is seeing my son able to be an individual with his own opinions AND stay in relationship with me, rather than feeling he has to choose between the two.

I am under no illusions that he needs to and will continue to test the boundaries, and that I will continue to be challenged by it, however I realise I have control over the way I respond and can choose a path of love, co-operation and clear boundaries, rather than dominance and punishment.

Tantrums

The other week, I watched my 17mth old son lie face down crying, pummelling and kicking the floor. He was so angry he was not getting what he wanted he expressed it with the whole of his body.

I was bought up in a family where you didn't show anger. Unsurprisingly, at first my son's 'tantrums' tore me apart inside as I found it hard to be with his anger and just wanted to give him what he wanted. It's pretty obvious that as a child grows up you cannot give them everything they want, assuming they can even tell you what that is, so I struggled with my emotional response and the confusion I felt. Gradually my son is teaching me its OK to be angry - the world, or more to the point the relationship, doesn't end. He's showing me that anger tells us what we want in life.

What did you learn about anger as you grew up? What is your anger telling you?