Reconnecting After Yelling: How Kids Can Be Allies, Not Enemies
During Chinese New Year, family gatherings are rarely stress-free for many of us; the burden and exhaustion of family dinners, obligations, and traditions often trigger conflicts. On the third day of Spring Festival, commonly known as the Day of Red Mouth (“Chi Kou” 赤口), families get to take a break from each other. People fear that a red mouth would result in arguments and quarrels, especially with obstinate elderly relatives, and thus they simply avoid seeing each other on that day.
Having gone through two weeks of online learning preceding Chinese New Year, however, I'm already feeling exhausted even before the festivities begin. Every day feels like the Day of Red Mouth. During the past two weeks, as I herded my six-year-old son from one task to another, I snapped at him repeatedly with harsh criticisms.
"Why didn't you have blank pieces of paper ready before the class starts?"
As my son froze, I yelled, "What are you waiting for? Go get paper now! It's so f***ing simple!"
Immediately, I gasped frantically, Oh gosh! Are we muted? Did his teacher and classmates hear me say the f-word? Phew, okay, we're muted. Oh no! Was I on camera? Did they see the scowl on my face?
As parents, we wish to stay calm with our kids and maintain peace in our homes, but daily stresses and triggers wear us thin. I first started exploring mindfulness because I wanted to be a calmer parent and to avoid inflicting emotional damages upon my child and expensive therapy bills in the future. But the parent-child relationship is very much like any close human relationship: conflict and relationship breakdowns are inevitable.
With the imbalance of power in a parent-child relationship, managing conflicts can be incredibly challenging. In particular, I notice I am more prone to throwing fits at my child. After all, it's easier to lash out at my defenseless child as I'm not likely to suffer immediate, tangible consequences.
If I treat my spouse with the same kind of contempt, I run the risk of him filing for divorce. In contrast, with my child, he is unlikely to ask for emancipation. Thus, I am more likely to lash out with reckless abandon.
In addition, with great power comes great responsibility. As the parent, I feel responsible for teaching my child and inculcating good habits in him. Whenever I feel I have failed as a parent, I'm a lot harder on myself.
For instance, when he forgot to get a blank paper before class started, my inner critic immediately went off (You should have helped him get organized), resulting in me feeling guilty and ashamed. To combat my emotional distress, I blamed my powerless child, catastrophizing that not having paper was the worst mistake in his life.
John Gottman, a psychologist, has spent decades researching conflicts in marriage and couple relationships. As I recently reread some of his writings, his research findings remind me that conflict is a normal and natural part of relationships.
Given that conflicts are inevitable, I wonder: What if instead of stressing about staying calm and controlling my emotions with my son, I focus on repairing our relationship after it breaks down?
According to Gottman, a repair attempt as "any statement or action — verbal, physical, or otherwise — meant to diffuse negativity and keep a conflict from escalating out of control." These two weeks of online learning has given me plenty of opportunities to experiment and observe how to repair my relationship with my son after a conflict.
Accepting that conflict is inevitable helps me give myself the permission to "fail" as a parent. Monday morning is the most stressful time juggling my child's online learning with my weekly cleaning chores. Permitting myself to yell feels liberating. And thankfully, with great foresight, his school has scheduled a Counselor's Corner session on Monday afternoon.
"Mama, what's a school counselor?" My son asked.
"A counselor is someone you talk to about how stressed you feel about your mom's yelling," I told him, relieved that someone else would help him process the stress.
Identifying a Soothing Strategy
Feeling liberated, instead of beating myself up for lashing out at my kid, I focus my energy on reflecting on what calms me down after a breakdown. Some time ago, I had asked my child to remind me gently not to yell whenever I seemed worked up, but in the heat of the moment, his reminders often aroused more antagonism from me (If you did not do that, I wouldn't have to yell or I am not yelling).
My son figured that it was an ineffective strategy long before I did. Upon reflection, I've become aware that he's discovered a more effective soothing strategy on his own: when I am feeling angry, he sends me air kisses, and my anger would usually melt under his charm.
Once I'm in a more calm and resourceful state, I can focus on repairing our relationship with these additional strategies:
Expressing and Acknowledging Each Other's Experiences and Feelings
We take turns to talk about what has happened during the breakdown: the triggers, the facts, the feelings, and the unmet needs that we have felt. One of Stephen Covey's 7 Habits of Highly Effective People states, “Seek first to understand, then to be understood," and I find this tenet especially relevant in a parent-child relationship.
As a parent, I first seek to understand and validate my child's perspective before sharing about mine. Sometimes, he seems confused about his feelings and needs, and I help him understand his more complex emotions by making guesses.
"When I told you off for not preparing for your class, did you think that you're not good enough?" When I saw my child nodding vehemently, I knew what I said struck a chord. And knowing how important it was to him to feel my love, I added, "And you're worried that I've stopped loving you?" As he snuggled closer, I reaffirmed to him that he'll always be enough for me.
Taking Ownership of My Action and Seeking Forgiveness
As I feel less pressure to be a perfectly composed parent, I can face my own mistakes head-on. I'm more likely to take ownership of my action and make a genuine apology without blaming the other person (I'm sorry that I blew up vs. I'm sorry that I blew up, but you did this and that). "Would you forgive me?" I ask my son, and he always gladly accepts my apology.
Coming Up with Relationship Management Measures as a Team
My son has lots of creative ideas, and I invite him to brainstorm together how we could manage breakdowns together: "I need help, Asher. I don't want to keep blowing up at you. What can we do about it?" Out of that brainstorming session, we've created a hug-time ritual where an alarm goes off at 8 pm every day to remind us to hug each other and express our love.
Looking back at all the different ways my son and I have worked together to resolve our conflicts these past couple of weeks, I begin to appreciate my child as an important partner in our relationship.
I’m not suggesting that we burden our kids with the responsibilities of meeting our needs: they’re not responsible for protecting us, healing our old wounds, or making us happy. And in some cases, they may not have the maturity to handle certain issues. But sometimes we adults forget how resourceful our kids are. Of all people, my child has the most intimate knowledge of all my craziness, so I don’t have to pretend that I have things under control. Together, we can brainstorm ideas for soothing each other and resolving conflicts. I feel liberated knowing that I am not alone.
As we head into Chinese New Year this year, not being able to visit grandparents overseas means that for the first time, my husband and I are "the elders.” I get to reflect on the kind of elderly role I want to play in relation to my child.
Overpowering my child is not the answer. In contrast, by sharing the power in the relationship and working together as partners, we engender a mutual sense of respect and trust for many years to come.
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