We Can Hold Their Hands

mumbai_prayersRight after the terror attacks happened in Mumbai,  my daughter saw some of the TV footage with pictures and had some idea that there was fire and people were hurt. I started talking to her about it and mid-way she said something like this:

D: “But why are they hurting others?”

Me: “I am not sure why. Maybe they were very sad and angry about something that happened to them a long time ago.” (I had read the Hand in Hand article on Helping Children Exposed to Shocking Events.)

D: “I know! We can hold their hands like you hold mine (when I throw a tantrum) and say, ‘No, you can’t do that.’” (She said this very gently.)

I was sad, happy and more when I heard this from her. It reminded me that the young men who choose to hurt others in Mumbai were so human—just like the rest of us. At the same time her innocence scared me. I am happy that for her (at least for now) the path to connect with people when their behavior goes off track is the gentle, loving way.

Thank you for all your support.

–A mother in India

Hitting, Crying, Then Sharing

Hello?

Hello?

During Family Day Care one morning, the children were playing with telephones and purses; they were “going to work.” Tracey came and took a phone from Benny, who is 2 – 1/2 . Benny was really angry and screamed at Tracey. Then he hit her hard before I could get there. I yelled out “No, Benny!” as I came running over but I was too late to intervene to stop the hitting. Tracey, 2, was crying hard.

I sat with her in my lap and listened to her cry. I wasn’t sure how Benny was doing, so I held him with my other hand and asked him to wait while I made sure that Tracey was OK. I listened to Tracey cry for 5 minutes. When she was winding down, I said, ” I’m sorry that you got hit on the head. Are you OK?” which sparked another bout of crying about being hit. All the while she was crying she was clutching the phone in her hand.

When she had finished crying I said to her, “Benny was playing with that phone and it is his turn to play with it. Will you give it to him? She said, “No!” I said, “He was playing with it, sweetie. We can wait for him to be finished or we can find you something else to play with. Can you give the phone back to him, please?” Tracey returned the phone to him and went off to play.

I turned my attention to Benny. He had been watching the whole time. I gave him the phone and then I gave him my attention. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I felt he was feeling bad about hitting Tracey.

I played a little game of peek-a-boo with him. “Where are you, Benny? Where are you?” and then when he caught my eyes. “Oh, there you are!” and he smiled at me. I said to him “Are you OK?” He said, “Yes.” I felt like he was OK. He didn’t feel wound up; he was meeting my eyes and smiling. So I let him out of my lap.

He stood there and looked at the phone and then he walked over to Tracey and gave it to her. Tracey smiled and showed me the phone and said, “Look, Mummy,” and pointed at the phone. (I’m not really her mummy; she just calls me that at daycare.)

I am always struck by the compassion that children have when they are feeling connected. I try to be present enough, and not intervene with my thoughts of blame in a situation, like shaming Benny for hitting Tracey. The children nearly always have a firm sense of compassion and justice. Often when I sit with a child who really wants to play with something, and listen to them cry about how much they want it, the other child will finish with the item and bring it to the upset child. It is humbling to watch.

And I imagine that their satisfaction and the interpersonal learning they do to come up with the ideas and follow them through without compulsion must be high. I must say that not all these interactions go so beautifully but this was such a memorable one. Lastly, Benny’s mother told me that night after daycare that he told her about what had happened. They were able to discuss it together.

–a mother and home day care provider in Brisbane, Australia

Playing with Bad Dreams

In the middle of the night, my 6-year-old daughter woke me up and said she was having a bad dream. At first, I quietly walked her back downstairs to the room she shares with her younger sister, not talking and just trying to be a soothing presence, and stayed in her room for a

Bad Dream

Photo by Christopher Eriksen

bit while she fell back asleep. I went back upstairs, but the next thing I knew, I was being awakened again—and I quickly and blearily repeated the process.
By the time she woke me up a third time, I was more conscious—and since I had recently begun taking the Hand in Hand class, I decided to channel what I had learned and take a different tack. First, Staylistening: I took her into another room, flipped on the light, and invited her to tell me about the dream.

I held her while she explained she had been dreaming about a lot of mean-looking eyes staring at her from all over the room. I just listened supportively while she expressed her fears (rather than saying something reassuring but negating, like, “Well, you know there aren’t really any eyes in your room,” and so on).

Next, I acted playful, remembering what I had learned about how either crying or laughing about fears helps release tension:

“If those eyes come back,” I said, “here’s what we’re going to do.  ’Listen up, eyes! We’re going to squish you like cherry tomatoes!” I declared gleefully. “We’re going to flush you down the toilet!

She started laughing and joined in with more suggestions—stomping on them, throwing them out the window, and more. We did this together and laughed and hugged until she said she was ready to go back to bed—where she proceeded to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night!

Before, I think I always operated under the assumption that if I stayed quiet and peaceful during any nighttime wakings, my daughter would go back to sleep faster. But doing it differently this time helped illustrate for me that when kids fears’ are concerned, freedom of expression generally trumps keeping the peace!

–A parent in San Francisco

Overcoming a Bee Sting Trauma

My son was 3 this summer, and one day, while playing out in a friend’s yard, he was attacked by bees–I think they were yellow jackets. Both my husband and I were there, and came to his rescue right away, but he was stung 8 times before it was all over. He was in a lot of pain, and really terrified.

We packed ice on his stings, and left the place right away. He screamed at the top of hisbeemagnifiedlungs all the way home, a half-hour ride. I held him, looked into his eyes, and told him again and again that we were sorry he got stung. I told him we knew it hurt, and that he could scream as much as he needed to. I told him we would stay with him, and that he was doing just the right thing. He screamed a long, long time. I would never wish this experience on any child!

For weeks afterwards, he was terrified to go outside. He was terrified of anything that flew, indoors or outdoors. He couldn’t go outdoors without crying hard. He refused to be outside at all. It was a beautiful summer, and in Buffalo, you want to be outdoors, because the rest of the year you’re indoors all the time!

So I reread the Healing Children’s Fears booklet, and decided to try some of the ideas there, both Playlistening and Staylistening, to help him with this big fear.

I began playing this game with him where I would buzz and “fly” up to him, pretending I was a bee. After a little bit of playing around this way, he came up with a way to take the powerful role. He would say, “Baba!!” which was his version of “Boo!” and I would scream and “fly” away, scared, saying, “What was that?!” Ohh, I’m scared!” He would laugh hard, and we would begin again.

He loved this game. My whole family got into it–my husband played it, my Mom played it with him, and sometimes, all three of us would play it together. He would scare us and, each time, we would run away “frightened,” and he would laugh and ask for more.

I did something else, too, along the lines of Staylistening. Rather than wait for him to want to go outside, something he had absolutely no desire to do, I decided to take him for a little walk every day. I held him the whole time. He would begin crying the minute we went out the door, and he clung to me for dear life. I told him we would only stay outside for as long as he wanted, but that we needed to go outside, and that he was safe. The first time, he cried for a few minutes, and then wanted to go in, so we did. The second time, he also cried, but it took a little longer before he said he wanted to come in. Every day we did this, and every day, he cried hard but he stayed out longer than the day before. While he was crying, I would look at him, hold him, and tell him I was keeping him safe. I didn’t know how much to push him, so we did this a little at a time.

He finally got over his fears. We could tell when he had cried and played the bee game enough. We knew he had come through it when we were outside and an insect came near him he said “Baba!” Of course, the insect randomly flew away. He was very proud of himself. He would say, “See, Mama! I made it go away!”

The final victory day was the day that he was playing over in a corner of the yard and he called me, “Mama, come see!” I went over to him, and he showed me a really big bee sitting on his shoe. He said, “Look Mama, there’s a bee on my shoe,” but he was totally relaxed about it. I said, “Yes, there it is. Do you want to kick it off?” and he said, “Yes,” and kicked his foot. The bee flew away, and he kept playing. It was a totally ordinary thing.

I felt like a great Mom! We had figured out how to help him on something that was absolutely terrifying. He has remained unafraid of insects–it’s as if that incident had never happened.

I don’t’ know what I would have done without the booklet on Healing Children’s Fears. It really helped me. The games worked great, and listening to him cry was hard, but it seemed like the right thing to do. It was so helpful to have some idea of what to do to help him, and to have it work so well. — a mother in Buffalo, NY

Ending a Playdate with Connection

When my 6-year-old daughter had playdates back in preschool as well as this past year in kindergarten, there was often a lot of angst at the end when trying to get the kids to finish up and separate. There were some bad scenes–tantrums, crying, the kids trying to run away and hide, even another parent involved bribing the kids with candy, only to have them run away again right after getting it!

ob_courseSo I was struck by the brilliant point in one of the Hand in Hand classes about using connection to end a playdate. Recently, when we had another girl over at our house and the playdate was supposed to come to end soon, I went into the closet where the two girls were playing with a toy fairy castle and warmly observed them and interacted with them for a few minutes. I told them it would be time to go soon and asked if there was one more fun thing they would like to do before the playdate was over.

My daughter’s friend suggested an obstacle course, and I responded enthusiastically about how that would be really fun and a great way to finish up her time at our house. So we all created an obstacle course together–involving jumping over stuffed animals, pillows, into hula hoops, etc.–which I purposely designed to lead from my daughter’s room, out our front door, right up to the fence of our front yard. I put our guest’s shoes at the end of the obstacle course so that putting them on would be the final hurdle, and enlisted my husband to time the proceedings with a stopwatch while I narrated the proceedings like a sports announcer.

It went great! Sure beats the standard five-minute warning and chorus of “Nooooo!” and resistance.

–A happy parent in Los Angeles

Special Time Helps Us Pull Together

Not Again

Not Again

After a fairly harmonious several weeks with my children, I started to have conflict again with my oldest (5.5 year old son), sometimes multiple times a day. My son was increasingly attacking his younger sister (3.5 years old), both physically and emotionally. He was scaring her to tears, and going against house rules such as standing on the kitchen counters with dirty feet. I was quick to anger, had little patience, and used almost no playfulness or creativity in responding to sibling fights. I was giving myself time outs, parking the car on the side of the road and stepping out to cool off.

Two to three weeks into this cycle, I wondered what was going on and why.  I realized that I had spent no time with my children. No Special Time, no Playlistening, nothing outside of caring for their basic needs. Why? Self-imposed pressure to complete several household projects was absorbing all my time, leading me to cut out exercise, sleep, and even eating regularly. I was stressed and depleted, but feeling productive, which is highly seductive for me.

But the cost had been high: I felt at the absolute lowest point in my 5+ years of parenting. I was doing everything wrong; using threats, power plays, belittling language. Luckily, I had been aware enough to apologize every time, but my children seemed weary of apologies. They would rather have mom not screw up in the first place.

I told them that I was going to spend Special Time with each of them. They decreed that it should be 51 minutes of Special Time for each, and so it was. Each Special Time was wonderful: both had wanted to swim, and thoroughly enjoy their splashing in the pool. Later, at dinnertime, my patience started to ebb as my son refused to eat dinner (a common cause for our conflicts). But this time, rather than completely polarizing, we both pulled it together and found something he was willing to eat that is reasonably nutritious and did not involve much time-consuming preparation. The Special Time seemed to give both of us the energy and good will to avert a showdown. Whew!

–A mom in Silicon Valley

Brother and Sister Reconnect

My 6 year old son, 4-1/2 year old daughter and I had stopped at a local establishment for lunch. My son got out of the car and closed the door not noticing that his younger sister was also on the way out his door. She wasn’t injured physically but was hurt by the insult of having the door slammed on her. She began to cry and cry and at first my son wanted to cast the blame on her and tell her that she shouldn’t have come out his door, etc. I stopped him by saying, “She’s really upset. Let’s just listen to her have her feelings about what happened right now.” I put an arm around her and he came close and we both just gave her our attention while she cried. When she finished my son apologized to her instead of offering the lecture he initially wanted to offer. I think the listening to her cry helped him too! She readily accepted his apology, which she won’t typically do when she’s hurting. They walked arm and arm into the restaurant while my son gently reminded his little sister that she should let him know when she’s coming out his door so that won’t happen again. This is an especially powerful example for me of how listening to someone who is hurt can make way for clearer thinking, compassion, understanding and love on both parts. I wish my children got along that beautifully all of the time but I’ll take the moments when I can get them!

—A mother from Maine