Across the frozen tundra, he was a tiny figure, wrapped from head to toe in warm layers, his sled by his side – but his voice carried clearly as he shouted at me, “I’ll never hug or kiss you ever again!”
This was my son, Malcolm, age 5, wanting to stay longer on the sledding hill in Madison, Wis., down the block and across the street from our house. But it was getting late and I’d been carrying his younger sister up the steep, snowy hill every time before sledding down, and I was exhausted and hungry. I insisted we go. He insisted we stay. So Lux and I started the trek across the white field to the road, but Malcolm didn’t move.
I thought he might be embarrassed by his avalanche of raw emotion in front of the other sledders, especially the threat about no more hugging and kissing, but it didn’t faze him. He wanted to stay and he was very upset. That was all that mattered.
Eventually he began to follow me, and his anger faded enough to enjoy a mug of hot chocolate at home.
Having intense emotions is part of growing up, and Malcolm was a particularly passionate child. A friend of mine who used to baby-sit him once told me she could never be his mother because there was no way she could resist his heartbreaking boy’s cry.
Boys typically have a more difficult time controlling their emotions than girls do. One theory is that girls are verbal earlier and better able to express themselves with words, thus diminishing outbursts. Boys also are taught by society to tamp down emotion, which can sometimes have the opposite effect. Time spent suppressing feelings can cause a buildup of anger that eventually boils over.
Experts say the key is to teach your children how to acknowledge their emotions but also how to cope with them. We want kids to know that having feelings is OK, but not to be overwhelmed by them.
Advice on how to impart this wisdom is mixed, but one idea is to simply make sure your kids know their feelings will be heard. When a child is assured they have a sounding board, a safe reliable place to unleash their emotions, those emotions become less urgent.
Psychologist and clinical associate professor of psychology at Cornell University Kenneth Barish explains it this way in an article: “Because each disappointment and frustration now feels less painful, less ‘catastrophic,’ (your child) will be less insistent in her demands, and more open and flexible in seeking solutions to problems. She will less often get stuck in attitudes of blaming, argument and denial. She will be more able to feel empathy and concern for others, and to take responsibility for her actions.”
It sounds simple, but any parent knows it’s not. Having the patience and time to really listen and absorb the emotional ups and downs of your child can be difficult, especially when you’re feeling stressed out or hurried or burdened by your own set of worries.
As with any parenting lesson, the other ideal is to be a good role model, to not throw tantrums yourself. I try to follow both these guidelines, but have failed on many occasions.
When we moved to California six years ago, Malcolm was 8. One day a girl from school, who was also a neighbor, came over to play. During the visit, the girl managed to crush the Lego ship Malcolm had been building for days. He was overwrought and screamed accusations at the upset girl, claiming she’d done it on purpose. I completely understood why he was distraught but also wanted him to act “normal” in front of a kid from his brand-new school. I can’t recall exactly how I handled it. I think I said I understood why he was so angry but that she didn’t mean to do it and he had to move on. The girl went home and never came over again.
I asked Malcolm about it the other day. He’s now friends with that girl and I wondered if they ever joke about the “Lego incident.” I was teasing when I asked, thinking a joke like that very unlikely. But he said that he and the girl do laugh and kid about it now at school.
And I think that’s the best evidence that he has moved beyond pure unleashed emotion into a healthy stage of coping with feelings.
Sometimes, I miss that passionate kid. As a teenager, Malcolm is mellow and mostly happy, and not that excited about anything other than hanging out with his friends or playing video games. But when I recall the pain of hearing his cry, or the stone in my stomach over the toppled Legos – all the work he’d done destroyed – I am grateful to reside in this more peaceful spot of parenting, at least for the moment.
Contact the writer: hskyler@ocregister.com@heatherskyler
