Category: Parenting

A mom asked me this question:

“What do I do when my passive preschooler’s aggressive friend hurts her? We love the friend, but I just don’t know what to do in this situation. I don’t want to discipline her, but I don’t want to make what she did seem right.”

I am unusually well-situated to answer this question. My first child was the disciplinarian’s dream. As a preschooler, he was never the aggressor, and I was very tempted to think that the parents of the aggressors were doing something wrong.*

*I will add, in the spirit of full disclosure, one exception: On the first day of preschool, our 18-month-old son bit another child hard enough to break the skin. His teacher was a veteran, and she was not at all concerned. “This is a new experience for him. Let’s wait and see.” It never happened again.

Our daughter, on the other hand, is regularly involved in situations where she has clearly done wrong. This was true from her earliest interactions with other kids. When she was a baby, she inadvertently pulled her brother’s hair one time. When he cried, I imagine that I saw look of amazement on her face. “Wow, that happened when I pulled his hair once. I wonder what will happen the next time?”

And the next. And the next.

Many parents, whether privately or to my face, have believed that her behavior was a product of our parenting.

Obviously, we can’t have it both ways. My husband and I have refined our parenting for our two very different children, but we are the same family, the same two parents, the same house, the same food, water and air. The fact is, kids are different. They start out different, they react differently to their environments, and they end up different people from how they start. Nature vs. nurture is bogus: it’s all a big jumble that we only have a small amount of control over.

So returning to the question at hand: What do you do?

First of all, you can’t parent another child anymore than you’d want anyone else to parent your child. On the other hand, one of the best pieces of advice I’ve gotten about being with other people’s kids is, “Be yourself.” You can’t pretend to be a parent who accepts the behavior, either. So you have to look at it another way.

You have a child who is being mistreated, intentionally or not, by another child. Your main objective is not to change the aggressive child (you can’t), but to make the behavior stop (for the moment).

If you’re faced with a disagreeable child who is out to make your child cry, the choice is easy. End the relationship or at least constrain it.

But most kids who are more aggressive than your passive kid are worth keeping as friends. So my first response was, “Tell the child simply that hitting isn’t allowed in your house, then try to redirect the interactions of the kids so that the aggression doesn’t play out.” This would mean suggesting a game that you know is calming for them, doing something where you are physically between them, or separating them into different activities if the more aggressive child gets overstimulated.

The second piece of advice is harder: Admit that you’re not up to the challenge of taking on this child alone. When the parent of the child asks you again to take her child, make sure that you feel that you’re not being taken advantage of. Or consider that you have a baby as well as your other child, and won’t be able to give proper attention to the two of them. Or consider whether you’ve had enough sleep, whether you and your child are particularly cranky that day, and any other possible factors. Then tell the truth.

“You know, Dana, I’d love to help out, but I don’t think I’d be up to taking care of both of them today. I’m sorry.”

or

“The baby is taking up so much of my attention right now, I don’t feel like I can take on another child.”

Finally, remember that parents of aggressive children are not usually in the dark about their child’s behavior. Yes, there are those deluded parents, but you already decided not to deal with them, right? Instead, you’re dealing with a stressed-out mom whose third child is a dynamo she didn’t expect, or a dad who actually wanted to be a professional writer but ended up Mr. Mom because his wife makes more money, or whatever other complications your friend has in her life.

I have had parents ask me about my daughter in less than graceful ways, and then I’ve had those parents who did it right. The right way was assume that I knew what kind of kid I had, and that I had developed expertise in dealing with my child. They posed their questions something like this:

“This thing happened when your daughter was at my house. Here’s how I dealt with it. Can you offer me advice for how you would deal with it, or let me know more effective ways of helping her get along with my child?”

When you’re the parent of a difficult child, it is so heartening to have another parent assume that you are trying to do the right thing. It sets your conversation on a positive path when that parent asks for your help rather than demands your child’s compliance.

There is great value in helping your child learn to get along with a variety of people. I had to make a conscious effort to remind myself that it was good for my shy son to be with more active kids, even though he sometimes ended up crying. And every single day, my daughter gets lessons in how to modulate her reactions to stimuli so that she can get along better with other people. I’ve never regretted doing a little work to facilitate their interactions with kids who are different from them. Given how different we are from each other, it’s a good lesson for life.

I was trying to schedule a visit with an old friend I haven’t seen in years. I said, how about this weekend? And she said, Well, it’s Father’s Day so I’ll be away all weekend.

Oh, yeah, Father’s Day. I’m supposed to remember that, right?

My husband and I try not to make too much of what we call “Hallmark Holidays,” but even if you decide that, you’re left with a conundrum. What if I make nothing of it and his feelings are hurt? What if I set up a big deal and all he wanted to do was to clean out the garage that day?

Couples I know who have no kids are almost all united in the importance of such romantic holidays as Valentine’s Day. Let me tell you: the first time you spend Valentine’s Day trying to spit out a baby who’d really rather stick around in that warm, free-drink environment is the last day you get really romantic about Valentine’s Day! I’m not sure who’s less romantic about Val Day: Parents with kids at home, or parents whose kids have grown and moved on. So this is what love got us?

But our payback is supposed to be these separate holidays we get, mother’s and father’s day. These are supposed to be sacred holidays for us hardworking parents. We are supposed to be awoken by bright-faced children carrying in trays so that we can eat breakfast in bed, bestowed with wonderful presents, and celebrated in story and song. The reality is somewhat different. One year, my children did decide to bring me breakfast in bed. Problem is, I get up earlier than they do, and I treasure that time to take my solitary walk. But there they were with a tray full of food, in front of faces full of good intentions.

Grudgingly, I got back into bed.

I hate eating in bed. And the granola had sat on the yogurt so long it was soggy.

Otherwise, it was perfect!

Perhaps what it comes down to is that parenting is its own reward and its own punishment. On the one hand, you are rewarded by those children who do, in fact, want to make you happy. Who do love you no matter how bad of a parent you are. (Though they tell you about every little thing you do wrong.) Who idolize you to the point that they will eventually make most of the mistakes you made in life (and then some).

On the other hand, parenting is definitely its own punishment. In what other job, do the customers served so faithfully — you give them life, for god’s sake! — care so little about your sacrifices? In what other job does success mean sending your product out in to the world never to be able to fix it again? (Though many parents try, throughout their adult children’s lives, to fix them.)

So…Happy Father’s Day. Celebrate it as you wish. We’ll probably just do a nice breakfast, mention a few times how much we appreciate him, and leave it at that. If they want to make more of it once they’re adults, that’s fine. Until then, we’ll just have to savor the bittersweet flavor of the world’s hardest job.