Over the years, I’ve read a great many articles and books on the behavior of children and teenagers, and how a parent can cope and deal fairly and appropriately with the actions of young people. The opinions are as varied as the children themselves. Recently there was a post on Facebook about a new advocacy for just hugging your child when he misbehaves, which I thought was among the more absurd approaches.
Equally absurd to me was my mother shouting at me to “Spank him! Spank him!” when my two-year-old son was being particularly difficult during a visit to my parents’ home in Florida. I pursed my lips (a genetic expression inherited from my dad), drew in a long breath to calm myself, and said to Mom: “I am not going to spank him. Spanking is meant to break the spirit, and this child will need every bit of that spirit to succeed as an adult.” I was spanked pretty often so know from what I speak. But, what is a parent to do when their child is misbehaving? And at what point can one expect him to know the difference between right and wrong so that a consequence is meaningful?
I struggled for some time questioning what was appropriate, when to do it, how far to go, because my son was tough. Though I was definitely joking, I remember telling friends that the child could be beaten half to death and still wouldn’t mind me. He wouldn’t stay in time out. He wouldn’t listen to reason. He tested, tested, tested. But he was only three years old, so I kept making the excuse that he was still too little and did my best with apologies to friends, family, and strangers.
Aaron was well on his way to being four and had finally started to talk in full sentences. I thought that his new communication skills would help with his behavior. They didn’t. Being able to express himself more completely just added to the turmoil because he was now able to say as well as do. “I don’t have to stay in time out. You can’t make me.” He was right. I had my husband install a bolt on the outside of his bedroom door so that at least I could make him stay in there while everyone calmed down. But things weren’t getting better, they were getting worse. I was feeling wholly inadequate and felt I was failing him more than anything else.
At my wits end, I finally decided that there must be something clinically wrong. Maybe he was on the autism spectrum. Maybe he had ADHD. I wanted a diagnosis. Perhaps he needed medication. In any case, I required help, and so I made an appointment with a child psychologist.
The doctor had Aaron take a series of tests. The tests looked mostly like playing. There were blocks and Legos, crayons and colored pencils, and puzzles and games. He had fun. While the doctor’s assistant read Aaron a book, I sat down with the doctor to listen to what he had to say. “Well, Mrs. Faulkner,” he began. I braced myself. “What you have here is an extremely intelligent little boy.” My eyes widened as I wasn’t expecting this. “He’s got your number,” he continued. “You have got to discipline him. He knows the difference between right and wrong.” I sat a bit stunned.
“But, I have tried to discipline him, and no matter what I do, it doesn’t work,” I protested. We then talked about what I’d been doing—time outs, removed privileges, exclusion from outings for ice cream and such. The doctor took in a deep breath as he listened.
“Okay,” he said. He then started to discuss with me a different approach. He warned me that it was going to be really hard and that the family was going to have to do it together, and that it might take a year. A year! Good grief, I wanted an immediate result. But I understood that changing behavior was not an overnight undertaking, so I told him to lay it on me.
Over the course of the next several months, we emphasized everything that Aaron was doing right. We praised him every time he made the right choice, every time he followed directions, and every time he was nice to someone or helped out around the house. He liked it. When he made a poor choice, we talked about it, briefly, and used words like “disappointed” and “sad” and “unfortunate.” When he began to escalate a situation, I started by saying, “I think you know the road we’re going down, and that won’t feel very good for any of us.” He would pause, and mostly decide that he preferred aiming for a positive response. During this time, the other thing that became apparent was that his pattern of poor behavior was often associated with hunger. I began making sure he had regular snacks. Gradually, over the course of the year, we got there. He wasn’t quite five, but he knew the difference between right and wrong and was actively making the right choice most of the time.
I won’t say harmony was complete, as a family of four has a lot of personality conflicts and struggles with wanting things “my way” to overcome. But, we were in a much better place than a year earlier and had all learned something about what it means to receive words of affirmation.
The point I really want to drive home in these troubled national times is that, for the most part, we know from a very early age the difference between right and wrong. A five-year-old knows, even a three-year-old knows. Consequently, a teenager knows and should be held appropriately accountable.
Copyright DJ Anderson, 2018
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