I told my kid that they could have an ice cream alongside their lunch.
While lunch was cooking, they said something rude to me.
My impulsive reaction was to want to tell them that they could no longer have ice cream alongside their lunch.
(Deep breath.)
That reaction is wholly, exclusively, punitive.
That reaction is wholly, exclusively, wielding power like a weapon over my kid.
The only thing it would do is make me feel a smug sense of retaliation. Like my kid “got at” me, so I got back at them.
Unfortunately, it’s really easy for grown-ups to mistake “I feel a smug sense of retaliation” for “the world has been put right in some way” and, because grown-ups typically hold all of the power in a situation, there may not be anybody around whose opinion they’ll respect to call out the fact that those two aren’t the same thing.
What I did do was not engage with the thing they said, and take a deep breath, and remind myself that my child is literally childish and also immature because they are literally not mature—and that most importantly to this particular situation, they are hungry at this moment.
I analyzed the thing they said. Was it actually rude, or was it just “blunt that felt rude”? In this case, it was actually rude. But this step of analysis has been important lately, as I remind myself that blunt statements are not immediately rude statements, even if they land feeling that way. “Go away from me” is blunt self-advocacy. “You’re not doing that like I want” is blunt self-advocacy. “You’re stupid and no one likes you” is rude. There is a big difference and I have to keep that in mind.
I reminded myself that my kid most often uses actually-rude words when they are feeling reminded of their own powerlessness and they’re bristling against that. Like in a superhero movie, if the villain forces the good guy to kneel or grovel—they’ll most likely make a quip for the cameras to remind the audience that they still have power even when they’re being forced into powerlessness.
Am I a comic-book villain for telling my kid they have to wait a few minutes for ice cream? Of course not. But my kid is the main character of their own life, so that’s the framing that’s going to mirror what’s going on in their perspective. That framing helps me remind myself that I don’t actually want a kid who can be bulldozed easily. I want a kid who questions authority, who sticks up for themself.
“I’m getting really frustrated,” I said.
“No, you’re making ME get frustrated,” they said.
“Okay. It sounds like we are both frustrated. Let’s take a break from talking to each other.”
I physically put myself into a different room so that that could happen. (The lunch food was still in the air fryer.)
The air fryer finished cooking. I retrieved the food. I put it on a plate and put the plate in front of my kid. My kid ate the food and cheered up considerably. I snuck into my office and put a sneaky square of chocolate in my mouth. I cheered up considerably.
Could I have circled back to be like “xyz was rude and blah blah blah…” yeah I probably could have. Did I, no. For one, it would probably have started a new power/powerlessness struggle. For two, my kid already knows.
For three, I don’t want or need it to be a “learning opportunity” literally every time I ever do anything mildly wrong or say something mildly rude or whatever. A lot of times I just need to go away and calm down, and the biting words coming out of my mouth were a pretty good signal that I need that calm down process. So, I afford my kid the same leeway. Everything doesn’t have to be a teaching moment. Or, the teaching/learning can just be from the thing itself instead of from a grown-up.
We ate ice creams with lunch. They tasted like being on the same team.
