From time to time, parents ask me about what to do when they have gotten into a power struggle with their child. For example, when they have asked something of an adolescent who has refused, and in their anger the parent threatens to take their phone away. Or when a child messes around with a nerf gun and in response the parent threatens to throw their nerf guns away.
In those moments, the parent usually knows that something has gone awry somewhere but may not know what they could have done differently. And sometimes they feel trapped: to change their mind will be to “back down” or will cause their child to lose respect for them. When these power struggles become a pattern, it can be extremely frustrating as a parent, because little interactions can escalate quickly and seemingly irrationally. Children lashing out can say and do hurtful things. It can be easy to assume that the child is looking to get offended or trying to hurt the parent. And parents in their
desire to be consistent and demand respect can become rigid and inflexible. What is a developmental approach to situations like this? If I were to talk with a parent who is caught in this cycle with their son, this is what I would say:
I don’t think your son is looking for a reason to get offended. He's
not trying to be mean. And he’s not trying to hurt you, at least not
in a premeditated sense. He’s doing the best he can in a hard
situation. Approaching it with compassion and empathy is
important. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself in a power struggle (and
it sounds like you’re already there!).
When you find yourself making threats, it’s time to walk away.
Most immediately, you might say something like, “I’m really
frustrated right now. In the past I have made threats and said
things I regret. I don’t want to do that, so I’m going to take some
time to gather myself. I love you, and I know we’ll get through
this. But I need a break from this situation.” You need to
disengage from the situation when your son has already flipped
his lid. If he says something irrational, you know he’s already past
the point where talking will help.
If we keep engaging after our child is off the cliff of rationality, we need to
acknowledge that the reason why we engage isn’t to help our kid, it’s because
we’re mad and want to prove a point. We don’t want to let him “get away”
with X, Y, or Z. We want to prove him wrong or point out how ridiculous he’s
being. Maybe we want to take him down a notch or assert our dominance,
show him that he can’t “disrespect” us. As a parent, if we fall into that place,
that’s all on us—that’s our own emotional dysregulation driving the bus.
When we get to that point, it’s way past time to disengage. I typically don’t
recommend walking away from a child who’s hurting, but it’s a lot better than
saying things in anger that we’ll regret or escalating a power struggle.
So...let’s turn to a hypothetical situation. If my child was agitated and hungry
on a Friday afternoon and I offered him a granola bar and he snarkily refuses, I
could see myself start thinking “Wow, that’s entitled. I guess he’s too good for
a granola bar! There’s no way I could have gotten away with talking to my
mom like that when I was that age.” I know I’d be tempted to say something
like, “So you’re just going to go hungry until dinner, huh?” which would be
upping the ante. It’s not a sincere question—it’s a provocation. Then maybe
he’d say something like, “No, I’m just going to steal chips from the cupboard,
and you can’t stop me.” Then maybe I’d feel the need to assert my power and
to control the situation and escalate with, “Oh, yes, I can. So much for that
birthday party you want to go to this weekend.” He'd stomp off and maybe
get destructive, and I’d feel both steaming mad and smug about the fact that
he could have avoided all this just by accepting the granola bar I offered.
But if I’m honest, it’s not surprising that in this scenario we ended up with
him flipping his lid. I could have predicted it, especially if I was doing nothing
proactively to stop it, because it’s a Friday afternoon and he’s exhausted from
a long week and he’s already hungry and agitated. If I’m really honest, I could
acknowledge that he was probably hyped up and bouncing off the walls even
before this, so before we even got to the granola bar exchange, I’m already
pretty annoyed with him. I’m probably tired after a long week, too, and maybe
a bit snappish myself, and he's probably keying off my energy.
As soon as my son turned down my offer of the granola bar, I’m already
itching for a fight because then I felt rejected: “Oh, typical. I go out of my way
to try to try to be nice, and he throws it in my face.” I could admit that then I
upped the ante by saying “So you’re going to go hungry until dinner?” It
wasn’t a genuine question—it was an aggressive little move on my part to
poke the bear. And as soon as he (predictably) threatens to steal something
from the cupboard, I can feel fully justified to get on his case and vent some of
my own frustration onto him in a way that feels really self-righteous. Why do I
say this is predictable? Because if this scenario were real, we’ve probably done
some version of this little dance dozens, maybe hundreds, of times before!
And...if my level of resentment or stress is really high or my self-care is on
empty, I might get carried away with myself and say something shaming like,
"What's wrong with you? How dare you speak to me that way!" or "You're just
lucky to have a cupboard full of snacks and you don't even appreciate it," or "I
don't have to put up with this. If you don't stop being so entitled, no one's
going to want to be around you." (Or one of many variations on the shame
and blame theme). As we all know, these comments said in anger can't be
unsaid, and sadly they become the soundtrack of our kids' negative self-talk:
"What's wrong with me? Why can't I do anything right? I'm no good. No one
wants to be around me."
And, sadly, they can contribute to our children having a strong core of shame,
so that they overreact to even small provocations or go to a place soaked in
shame at any mistake, error, or correction ("You don't love me!" "I shouldn't
even be in this family!" "I might as well just drop out!") as their go-to in
emotional distress. This can be especially damaging in adolescence and
adulthood, when shame can form the trigger for so many harmful decisions. I
don't say this to make anyone feel bad for mistakes we've made in the past,
because we're all human and we all mess up. But just to underscore that it
really pays to find a way to avoid these power struggles and the collateral
damage that can result from them.
So, back the truck up! Let’s go back to this hypothetical. My son says he
doesn’t want a granola bar, and phrases it in a snarky way, “I don’t want
anything. You never give me anything decent.” I’d be best off to disengage as
soon as I notice I’m getting annoyed. “Ok, well, I’ll leave it here in case you
change your mind” (Go do something else in the vicinity, notice I’m annoyed,
take some deep breaths, remind myself it’s been a long week and he’s
hungry. Get myself re-regulated).
Or, better yet, if I have a feeling about the snack he really wants but feels
ashamed of asking for because he knows he’s not supposed to have it,
sometimes I could say, “You probably want juice, and that’s why you’re not
interested in the granola bar. You can have juice at breakfast, buddy. I’ll leave
this here in case you change your mind” (keeping face purposefully friendly,
tone light, not telegraphing my annoyance, not letting myself grind my teeth
or set my jaw). Every once in a while, I might say, “You probably don’t want
this because you want juice. I don’t want you to come to expect this, because
usually we only have juice at breakfast, but I know it’s Friday after a tough
week and you’ve been working hard on everything this week (even if he
hasn’t). Can I pour you some juice?” A small gesture of kindness and flexibility
usually goes a long way on days when a kid is feeling stressed and
overloaded, especially when any little thing could trigger a meltdown.
Now, I know it’s not easy to get to the point where you’re feeling that
generous and flexible, especially if your child has already been a bit
less-than-gracious. It’s definitely not. But that’s where changing our lens
comes in. As parents, we have to remind ourselves that our kid is not looking
for a reason to be offended, he’s barely holding it together. We have to
remember that he’s not that much different from us when we’re late and
nervous about an upcoming meeting, working too many hours, or feeling like
we’re incompetent at our job—especially when that’s the moment when we
discover we can’t find our keys! It’s not that we’re looking for a reason to be
upset, it’s that life is just too much sometimes.
Going back to our hypothetical example, what is the adult parallel to the son’s
Friday night experience? If we find ourselves in that stressful situation as an
adult, wouldn’t it be nicer if your partner pitched in to help you find your keys
and kissed you on the forehead saying, “Hey, babe, you’re juggling a lot right
now. Let me make dinner tonight and I’ll run a bath for you when you get
home, ok?” rather than, “You lost your keys again (annoyed, tone sharp)?
Where are you going to put them so you don’t keep losing them? What’s
wrong with you, anyway? Why can’t you keep track of anything?”
As parents, we need to think hard about what lessons we’re teaching. We
might think that if we back off on the threat to throw away our son’s nerf
guns (or take away our daughter’s phone), we’ve made ourselves look weak
and taught them the lesson that if they misbehave, they get what they want.
But is that the only lesson going on here? Could it be, instead, that we’ve
taught the lesson that rigidity is more important than fairness, and it’s better
to doggedly stick with a mistake rather than own up to the fact that
sometimes we say something we regret? Is it possible that by coming back
and saying, “Hey, I know I said I’d take away your nerf guns. But I realize now
that I said that in anger. I lost my temper and I’m sorry about that. I’d like to
revisit this discussion when we’ve both calmed down and we can come up
with a plan together.” Now, maybe the lesson we’re teaching is one about
how to acknowledge a mistake, how to repair a relationship, and how to work
together collaboratively. Important lessons for life!
Because by the time you get to the point where you’re threatening to throw
away your son’s nerf guns, you’ve both already flipped your lids. Nobody wins
a power struggle. So…the first step is to not take anything insulting our kids
say personally when they are in a flipped-lid, off-the-cliff state and to
disengage before we say something we regret. The NEXT trick is to become
attuned to your child’s emotional wavelength BEFORE you get annoyed, to
the degree that you can feel the hum of his stress (some parents tell me they
can listen to their kid’s footfalls on the stairs and know what kind of mood
they’re in; others tell me they know they’re in for a rough day within the first
two minutes after their kid wakes up). As a parent, if I know my kid is “on the
edge,” I might purposefully back off, say yes as much as I can, don’t push,
don’t demand. I might keep my tone light, inject humor, use as few words as
possible. I might go out of my way to smile or say something kind. I might try
not to ask too many questions or tread on touchy ground. In those times, if
you poke the bear, you’re certainly going to get a roar.
A big part of all this is being attuned to where our kid is at emotionally and
getting our timing right. When our kid is overloaded and on the edge, that is
NOT the moment to ask him to feed the dog, or even to say “Alright (sigh) I
guess I have to feed the dog for you” (causing him shame). Instead, we can
just quietly feed the dog and at some later moment say, “Hey, buddy, I fed the
dog for you (warm smile). Hey, it’s no big deal. Glad to do it—you’ve got a lot
going on!” That’s NOT the moment to get into it about nerf guns or room
cleaning or time on video games (for some reason, once parents get a bit
agitated, video games tend to be a popular go-to!). But, NO—we know that’s
not helpful. That conversation can wait. In fact, we might want to repeat it in
our mind, “Not the time, it can wait. Not the time, it can wait.”
Just as important, we have to be tuned into OUR OWN stress. Let’s say a
parent has an important staff meeting that is very stressful every Wednesday
morning. Strangely enough, their kid always has a meltdown and they end up
in a power struggle on Tuesday night. Coincidence? I think not! Parents carry
so much stress and sometimes it doesn’t take much to set us off. If I were to
find myself in that situation, I might let my partner know and take myself out
of the situation in advance, before I'm the irrational one with the flipped lid
who just looks like I'm spoiling for a fight. That’s my cue to go on a walk, take
a bath, or put on a movie. It’s ok to avoid your kids when you know any
interaction isn’t likely to go well. You can get reconnected later, when you’re in
a better place and not so stressed yourself.
Your relationship with your child gets chipped away every time you have one
of these power struggles. PREVENTION is the name of the game, and that
means 1) anticipating your child’s stress and your stress and responding
accordingly, and 2) pulling yourself out of power struggles as early as you can.
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