Why I Don’t Force Confrontation with My Children

Last week I wrote about the importance of getting down on your child’s level to interact with them face to face. Several commenters noted that as children they had sometimes found it scary or uncomfortable when an adult got down on their level, especially if it involved forced eye contact or interaction they couldn’t choose to avoid. This brought up something I didn’t discuss in that post—namely, that I try to avoid forcing interaction—and especially confrontation—with my children.

I think it’s a mistake to assume that we as parents should have an immediate right to our children’s attention. There are plenty of times when I want to talk to one of my children about plans for the evening, or get their help with a project, when my children would rather keep doing what they’re doing. Sometimes when I ask one of my children to help me with something they’ll say “just a minute” or “I need to finish this first.” And you know what? They learned that from me! If it’s not urgent, I try to respect that. But the area I’ve found most important to not force interaction is one where general wisdom tends in the opposite direction, and that is addressing wrongdoing or misbehavior.

I remember what it felt like to have a parent staring at me and trying to engage me about something I’d just done when all I wanted was for it to end. There was a definite deer in the headlights feeling, and it was distinctly unpleasant, especially if the interaction was meant to address some wrongdoing of mine, and I could see I’d messed up and I already regretted it very much and I really didn’t want to discuss it further thank you very much. As a parent today I’ve found that when my child does not want to talk to me, or to address an issue, or to make eye contact, there usually anything to be gained by forcing the point rather than letting things go for the time being and addressing them later.

I’ve often read that you’re not supposed to let wrongdoing or unwanted behavior go unaddressed with a small child, because their attention spans are so short. What’s less remembered is a small child’s short attention span also means you shouldn’t create a scene or a long drawn out confrontation with them. I can remember times with my own children when I’ve realized I’m trying to seriously address something that has already become distant past for them. If a small child is doing something they shouldn’t be doing, it can usually be addressed by removing an item and switching it for another activity, or by briefly stating “no, we do not hit our sister, we get her attention like this,” and immediately modeling the wanted behavior. Creating a scene with a small child is self-defeating.

Once a child is a bit older, say five or six, there will be issues that can’t be resolved by a sentence or two or by distracting a child with another object or activity. This makes sense, because at that age children need to begin learning the hows and whys behind the rules of how the world works. My daughter Sally is at this age. Sometimes Sally does something that I feel the need to respond to and work on with her, but while I try to do it as non-confrontationally and as understandingly as I can—and to make our exchange be two-way and not feel like a lecture—Sally becomes sullen, or angry, or withdrawn. I so remember this. I remember experiencing these feelings as a child, and wanting nothing more than to get away, to escape not only from lecturing but also from simple disapproval, no matter how harshly or gently expressed.

You can’t force a heart-to-heart, and you can’t make a child open up to you. Sometimes, despite my best efforts, Sally responds to my attempt to talk through an issue with her by becoming angry and withdrawn. I can do everything possible from my end to address the issue non-judgmentally and as just a learning opportunity, but I can’t force her to engage productively. When this happens, I try to let it go for the time being and then bring it again up later, once she’s had the time to work through some of it herself, and in a way that allows her to save face and have some modicum of control over the situation.

Have you ever been in a situation where you felt like you couldn’t backdown, but you realized you’d messed up in even getting to this place? Have you ever been in a situation where you realize you’ve mishandled something or mucked up a project, and the feeling of disapproval from your boss or other colleagues, even in the absence of a lecture, is almost nauseating? Have you ever been in a confrontational situation initiated by a  boss or other person in authority over you and wanted nothing more than to get out? Kids have these feelings too!

If I let go when I sense that Sally isn’t in a place to productively work through a given issue with me, I usually find that if I bring it up later Sally has percolated on the issue herself and is wiling to work with me on strategies for doing things differently in the future. I see this same thing in myself—there are times when I mess something up and I know I’ve messed it up and my husband wants to talk about what happened and what I should have done differently and my response, in the moment, is I know I messed up thank you very much, blood leave me alone. I get a flight or fight response, sometimes, even though I know my husband isn’t a threat. Later, when I’ve had some time to process what happened, I can come back to my husband and let him know that I’ve decided to change this or that going forward.

And sometimes, it turns out I didn’t know the whole story, and when I let things rest for a while Sally is able to come to me later, after we’ve both calmed down, and tell me the piece I missed, or to further explain her side. There are simply times when disagreements are not productive in the heat of the moment, no matter your age or relative social standing. Sometimes both parties need time to reflect, to think through what happened, and to form apologies that acknowledge what happened and what should have happened.

There are a lot of parenting ideas in our general culture that promote conflict and confrontation between parent and child. For instance, there’s the idea that you can’t let something go unaddressed, that you have to force the issue with your child in the moment, and that if they’re sullen or resentful that’s a character flaw and something you need to crack down on. This is bullshit. Everyone sometimes gets “fight or flight” responses, and I know very well from my own experience that responding with pushback initially is sometimes the first step of working through an issue ourselves—and some issues absolutely have to be addressed internally. Parents can not—and should not—control their children’s emotional states.

Children know very well how little control they often have over their lives. They rely on their parents for their food, their clothes, and their home. Parents control where they go to school, what activities they’re involved in, and when they see their friends. Children know this. Giving them some some amount of control over—and say in—their interactions with the adults in their lives is the least we can do. Rather than “Sally, we need to talk about how you’ve been interacting with your little brother” we can say “Sally, I’ve noticed you’ve been having some conflict with your brother recently; I’d like to talk with you about why he does what he does and to help you develop some strategies dealing with times when he annoys you, would now be a good time?” It might seem like a little thing, but it’s not.

Of course, all of this presumes that the child will ultimately be willing (and able) to listen, and that the child is interested in learning the ropes of life, the golden rule, and all that. But I’ve found that, in my experience at least, children who are shown love and kindness develop a desire to show love and kindness themselves. I’ve also found that when we as parents are willing to truly listen to our children, they are willing to listen to us in turn, and that when we value what they care about, they value what we care about as well. My children understand that they have a lot to learn about the world still, and I’ve encouraged them to see my husband and I as guides and sources of information rather than as dictators. It is my hope that when my children are teens, they will to come to my husband and I for advice and input, knowing that we value their wants and needs and autonomy—and that process starts now.