FAQ: how should i handle anger when disciplining?

Parenting small children can feel like Groundhog Day: correcting the same behaviors over and over again, often with no discernible improvement. When children disobey a clear expectation, parental anger can surge as a response. What should we do with that anger? Is it sinful? Or is there such a thing as righteous anger over the disobedience of a child? And most importantly, how can we keep anger from corrupting an act of discipline (training and correction) into one of retribution (getting even or vengeance)?

Many parents have a disconnect when thinking about anger and discipline: We suspect that disobedience should never touch our emotions – that good parents are able to correct their kids in an almost robotic, non-emotional way. It's important to acknowledge that we will get angry when our kids disobey, and that our anger is not sinful by definition. It turns sinful when we welcome it and use it to justify an unmeasured response. I do think it is extremely rare that we feel righteous anger of any kind, much less in moments of child disobedience. My anger in those moments was almost always related to the feeling that their disobedience was a personal offense against me or evidence that I was a failure at raising obedient children. That's a dumb kind of anger. And it's a dangerous kind, because it turns discipline into retribution lightning-fast.

Power-brokers and Peace-keepers

I believe the answer is not to be a robot, but rather to take time to calm down and gain control before administering discipline of any kind. We are allowed to get angry, but we are not allowed to sin in our anger. (Eph. 4:26) We are even allowed to express our anger on our faces or in our tone. However, because children are not as good at filtering those expressions as adults, I believe it's the better part of wisdom to control our outward reactions. Most children tend toward one of two categories: power-broker or peace-keeper. The power-broker recognizes emotional displays on our part as a sign that they are gaining leverage. If we show our anger over a disobedient act, we can actually reinforce the behavior. The peace-keeper, on the other hand, sees a display of anger as rejection. Seeing our anger may cause the peace-keeper to cease disobeying, but it may also breed fear and secrecy.

But if we completely hide our anger from our kids in those moments (particularly older kids), we can miss another training opportunity as important as the correction at hand: Modeling how to handle anger well. We can do so by taking time to calm down before disciplining, and by assuring our children (verbally and physically) that our love for them is untouched by their disobedience. We can also model repentance when our anger expresses itself rashly. We can confess it to our children and ask forgiveness, demonstrating to both the power-broker and the peacekeeper the power and peacefulness of humility.

Slow It Down

Proverbs 14:29 warns, “Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly.” If ever we need to exercise great understanding, it’s in moments of disciplining our kids. By thinking through what triggers our anger, we can begin to repent of its sinful aspects, working to slow it down to a safer speed. Once the moment of conflict has passed, we can do a personal debrief, asking ourselves what was really at the root of our anger. Did we have a wrong expectation? Did we allow an age-appropriate lack of self-control to get underneath our skin? Is anger our go-to response in general when things don't go as we had planned? How could things go better the next time?

Consider also how our own childhood influences our discipline patterns. For the parent who grew up in an angry home, the combination of disciplining and anger will feel either so normal that we forget to question it, or so inseparable that we avoid disciplining altogether. Neither of these is healthy. Sometimes, agreeing to “divide and conquer” with our spouse can help. If your spouse has better control than you do, consider deferring to them as the primary disciplinarian until you can trust your own responses better. Know your triggers. If neglected chores drive you crazy, hand off discipline to your spouse. If back-talk sets off your spouse, maybe you are the better parent to discipline for that.

In every discipline moment, keep in view that our children are our neighbors, to be loved as we love ourselves. By remembering that they are people, we are more likely to correct rather than avenge. If anger arises, we will temper it with compassion and forgiveness, expressing it appropriately and disciplining out of love.

FAQ: should I curtail grandparent gift-giving?

I know, I know…several years back you read that blog post about getting your kids four things for Christmas, and your inner minimalist shouted “YES.”

Something they want, something they need, something to wear, something to read.

Done and done. It was a formula that allowed you to simultaneously be a parent who was awesome and a parent who had more time for Elf and eggnog. You made your minimal shopping trips, wrapped your minimal gifts, and placed them under your minimalist tree, awaiting Christmas morning when your kids would gently unwrap their four treasures (“Remember, kids, Jesus only got three gifts.”) and thank you effusively for not over-indulging them like all the other parents on the block.

But then, the doorbell rang, with a tone less “Silver Bells”-ish and more like the death knell of your conservatively sugared sugarplum dreams. And Gigi and Pappaw exploded into your living room bearing half of Walmart, wrapped in packages that in no way coordinated with your brown-paper-and-twine aesthetic. Their eyes burned with the crazed expression young parents everywhere recognize as a sign of OGS - Over-indulgent Grandparent Syndrome.

The gift haul was mind-boggling. Packaging materials and crumpled paper blocked every exit. There was much squealing, but none of it seemed associated with something to read. Surveying the aftermath, you began mounting your resolve never to let this happen again. Gigi and Pappaw must be stopped.

But must they? Have they really torpedoed Christmas? Looking back on my own experience with dearly loved OGS-sufferers I can see how quick I was to point out the symptoms of their illness: extravagance, impracticality, frivolity. But I was much slower to acknowledge the symptoms of my own illness. It turns out I was actually infected with a pretty serious case of FPS – Fretful Parent Syndrome. It showed itself in three beliefs that, looking back, were absolutely off-base. I offer them for your consideration, with the benefit of a little hindsight, in case you’re thinking about dropping the hammer on the grandparents:

1.   My kids will be spoiled by this.

No, they really won’t. They may indeed look forward to Gigi and Pappaw’s visits for less than selfless reasons, but grandparents don’t typically spend enough time with grandkids to permanently impact their consumption patterns. Your children’s attitude toward material possessions will not be shaped by the way they spend one day in December. The vast majority of their formative days will be spent under your influence, not that of their grandparents or anyone else. If you teach and model delayed gratification, practicality, and others-focus twelve months out of the year, a few hours of extravagance at the hands of a grandparent will be a fun memory instead of a life-altering event.

2.   I have to control this.

No, you really don’t. Resist the urge to start placing restrictions on grandparent gift-giving. Yes, it’s true that a donation to the college fund would have been a more practical gift than a studio-quality Darth Vader costume, but grandparents see gift-giving as a way to connect with their grandkids. Because it is. Gigi and Pappaw want to give a tangible gift that will bring them to mind each time their grandchild uses it. Even if they lack a sense of moderation in the gift-giving department, they are entitled to give the gift of their choosing. If it is not dangerous, illegal, immoral, or an ongoing financial commitment on your part once it is given, you don’t need to step in. Controlling what or how much grandparents can give communicates a lack of graciousness on our part, one our children may pick up on. By placing requirements on grandparent gifts, we can inadvertently model a different, but equally ugly form of entitlement to our kids.

3.   I’ve been upstaged by this.

No, you really haven’t. This is a hard one to trust, especially when Gigi and Pappaw have outspent you by a magnitude of seven. But the grandparent relationship and the parent relationship are simply not in competition. When you refuse to let competition enter your thinking, you allow your child’s love for a grandparent to be what it should be: an extension of their love for you, not a threat to it. Your children will not compare their relationship with you to their relationship with Gigi and Pappaw any more than they would compare it to a relationship with a sibling, friend, or teacher. Don’t fall into the trap of believing you are competing for their love, on Christmas or any other day.

How can you know if you are free from the grip of Fretful Parent Syndrome this Christmas? I knew I was headed for recovery when I was able to welcome grandparent gifts without judging them, bemoaning them, or restricting them. I learned to express genuine gratitude, both in front of my kids and in thank-you notes. And I learned to relax in the knowledge that materialism is kept in check in the everyday moments that God has entrusted to parents.

Perhaps most importantly, I learned to keep in mind that grandparents themselves are a gift to our children, a vital part of the wider circle who will cheer for them through the sun and storms that lie before them. No insecurity of mine should jeopardize that relationship or dictate its terms. More than that, my willingness to defer to their gift-giving choices sets an example for my own kids that you’re never too old to look for ways to honor your parents.

Minimalist parents everywhere, I salute your desire to shepherd your kids toward simplicity. Do your best to pair it with forbearance toward silver-haired, soft-hearted spenders with whom you share a physical resemblance, a last name, or, at bare minimum, a deep love for your kids. Should you find this difficult, eggnog will help.

FAQ: should i pay an allowance for chores?

Teaching children responsibility is a primary task for parents. The question of whether or not an allowance should be paid for completing chores requires parents to consider training in two areas simultaneously: responsibility for work and responsibility for money. I don’t think that there’s necessarily one right answer to the question of whether completion of chores should be tied to monetary reward or not, but I can tell you how we handled the issue and why.

We decided not to tie allowance to chores. We set clear expectations for what the kids were responsible for (unloading the dishwasher, doing their laundry, etc) and then we held them to the list. If a chore was not completed in a timely or thorough manner, we gave another deadline along with an additional chore. The longer noncompliance occurred, the more unsavory the additional chores became. It was a pretty effective strategy that almost never went beyond about two rounds. Let’s just say no one wanted to clean the baseboards. Ever. (I just asked my youngest what his least favorite chore was, and he fired off “baseboards” before I even finished the question.)

Allowance was something we just gave. It was given in an amount appropriate to their age, increasing as they got older, and going away once they were old enough to earn money by working outside our home (babysitting, lawn-mowing). Allowance, and any other savings, was used at their discretion to purchase wants. We committed to cover their needs. If a child needed a new pair of shoes, I would spend enough to cover the need – store brand sneaks. The child could contribute the difference in price if they wanted a nicer pair. We saw allowance as an opportunity for them to learn self-control and the difference between needs and wants. But we didn’t treat it as compensation.

We did offer to pay for certain jobs that wouldn’t be categorized as everyday chores. If a child needed extra money, if the job was something we would hire someone to do, or something we didn’t have time to do ourselves, we would offer the chance to earn. Each time we had house guests, my oldest daughter cleaned the guest room to earn money for a trip she was taking. I was so sad when she met her goal because the job fell back to me again, and I have a bad attitude. I keep leaving travel brochures on her pillow.

Why We Work

At an event this week I had the privilege of meeting Pastor Tom Nelson, a man who has devoted quite a bit of time to examining the relationship between faith and work. He articulated a principle that I hadn’t been able to put words around, a framework for how the believer should think about the work he or she does. He said that work ought not to be primarily about compensation but about contribution. As those whose work is ultimately done for the glory of God, we ask, “How much can I contribute?” before we concern ourselves with “How much will I receive?” Think how differently the world would function if everyone regarded work through this lens.

This is why in our home we didn’t tie allowance (compensation) to chores (work). Instead, we explained to the kids that their contributions to the upkeep of domestic order were absolutely essential. We were not merely trying to train them to obey or to be responsible, we actually needed them to share the burden of work for our family to flourish. It was not an overstatement. The Bible study I lead requires me to be gone twenty six weeknights of the year. I also travel occasionally for speaking. Jeff and I explained to the kids that they were acting as ministry partners by keeping the house in order when I couldn’t be there. It materially lightens my load (and Jeff’s) when everyone does their part. Rather than resent their responsibilities, the kids came to see them as a source of the best kind of self-esteem: They knew their contributions were both needful and deeply valued.

And we lived happily ever after in a spotless house where no one ever complained about chores or spent money frivolously.

Okay, not exactly. But we did manage to keep the focus on contribution rather than compensation. We’re in the thick of writing college essays these days. It’s been encouraging to read my almost-adult children put into words their hopes for their future careers: “I want to make a difference teaching science.” “I want to help make green energy a viable option.” I certainly hope my kids will end up with jobs that pay a fair wage, but more than that, I hope they will end up with jobs that allow them to contribute joyfully, working as unto the Lord. To that end, we have tried to make our home a place of joyful contribution, perhaps not joyful in the moment – when the cloth is on the baseboard and the knees are bent – but joyful in the final analysis, knowing that every good effort matters. And every worker is a treasured child.

related post:

stuff, satisfaction, and the suburban child

advice to writers: get a “freditorial” team

Prov 11:14 …in an abundance of counselors there is safety.

Blogging is not for the faint of heart -- anyone who has ever read blog comments is aware of this. As a writer, my hope is always to be read and understood. This doesn’t mean that I expect my readers to always agree with me, but that their agreement or disagreement would be formed based on an accurate reading of my message. Because of this, I never post without the help of my “freditors” – my friend editors who offer feedback as co-laborers in my writing ministry. The more trusted eyes I can get on a post before it goes up, the more assured I can be that it communicates what I intend with as few errors as possible.

So, when other writers ask me for writing advice, I don’t offer style tips or opinions on the Oxford comma (clearly, it’s awesome),I start with this: Get a freditorial team and use it consistently. What kinds of freditors have proven the most useful? Here’s who I have on my team:

The Casual Reader

I need this person to read the post like the average person will read it. I’m not looking for much other than how it hit them – what were their overall impressions and take-aways from the piece? Did they understand what they read? It helps if the Casual Reader is familiar with what other bloggers are writing about.

The Writer

This person critiques me on mechanics, style and word choice. She helps me reorganize my arguments when they don’t flow. She is a gorgeous writer herself, and she will call me out if I forget to pair clarity with artistry. She says things like “There’s a rhythm problem in this sentence.” I love that.

The Theology Police

This person checks to make sure I’m not a heretic. Sometimes the smallest word choice makes the difference between truth and error, and one set of eyes won’t always catch the nuance. I don’t have formal theological training, so I don’t need to be convinced of my need for the Theology Police. I tend to think that even if I did have formal training I’d still want this layer of help. I never want to place beautiful words around faulty thinking.

The Devil’s Advocate

This is the person I can rely on to nitpick. She drives me crazy, but it’s the good kind of crazy. She reads looking for controversy or holes in my logic. She’s basically like a rational blog commenter who gets to see an early draft. She says things like, “You can’t possibly do justice to this topic in 750 words.”  She also says things like, “Did you write this mad? I don’t think you should write mad.” Which usually makes me mad. But she’s right.

The Man

If I need a perspective from the other gender, The Man helps me out. And even though we’ve been married for over 20 years, he never complains. But sometimes The Man needs to be a man I’m not married to. Since Jeff helps me process my thoughts so much before they turn into writing, I may need a fresh set of male ears to hear them once they turn into a post. The Man helps me avoid unintentionally communicating gender stereotypes. He also helps me write in a voice both men and women can hear.

The  Doppelganger

This person thinks like me. She cares about the same topics I do and thinks about them extensively. (She's actually much smarter than me. She's like me, smarter.) I send her my drafts to make sure I’ve represented my thoughts and positions accurately. Sometimes I can get so close to a topic that I get sucked into the small points without clearly articulating the big ones. The Doppelganger makes sure I have not assumed anything as general knowledge and helps me keep the main point the main point.

The Specialist

The Specialist provides help on an as-needed basis. If I am writing about worship music, I send the post to a worship leader. If I’m writing to pastors, I ask a couple of pastors to read. I once sent a post to a person of another religion to make sure I hadn’t misrepresented his beliefs in a point I had made. I recognize I’m a prisoner of my own experience to a certain extent. The Specialist helps me write balanced content.

I know, that’s a big team. But I don’t use every freditor on every post - a few posts go to the whole team, most go to some combination, all go to at least one. One freditor may fill more than one role, depending on the piece. But nothing goes up on my blog with zero frediting.

When you read a post on a major platform, it has probably been critiqued by a team of editors before it posts. When you read a personal blog, this may not be the case. The larger a person’s platform, the less likely it is that they are just typing out their thoughts and hitting “post” when they’re done. But I don’t think writers should wait for a big platform to begin seeking more eyes on their drafts. The last thing a blogger wants is to write a post with a gaping error or miscommunication in it, only to find out too late that her words have brought down a hailstorm of justified criticism.

All bloggers learn to expect critique – that’s part of the double-edged privilege of having a platform. Critique doesn’t bother me, but my own poor editing or unintended lack of clarity do. Personally, I’d rather avoid having my post’s limitations exposed by anonymous commenters after it goes live. I’d much rather do due diligence by consulting the input of people I respect and trust before I post anything in the first place. Then, when critique comes, I’m able to remind myself that my words were weighed. There’s peace in knowing that the people who know me best have my back.

So, my best writing advice is this: Let iron sharpen iron. If you blog, build a freditorial team. Through both affirmation and correction, they will hone your writing, helping you communicate with precision and integrity. A writer can ask for no truer friends than those.

FAQ: should i make my child apologize?

Parents frequently ask me if it is wrong to require their children to apologize when they are disrespectful or disobedient. Usually, their concern is that, by doing so, they might be training their child to lie. Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the child to apologize on his own when he feels genuine remorse, rather than to just repeat an apology he has been taught?

It is definitely commendable to want your child to speak and act only out of right motives. And yes, godly obedience goes beyond just saying the right words – godly obedience is right actions plus right motives, doing the right thing for the right reason. Godly obedience is what Christian parents want to instill in their children.

But how is godly obedience instilled? How is it trained? The answer might surprise you. Unlike adults who learn by reasoning, young children learn by doing. Adults want to be convinced that a course of action is the correct one before they will pursue it. Children, on the other hand, learn to perform the correct action before they are developmentally able to assess the reason it is correct. Doing the right thing actually precedes understanding why it should be done.

Parents intuitively understand and employ this “training truth” with young children in many areas:

• We train them in the language of courtesy before they desire to be courteous (please/excuse me)
• We train them in the language of gratitude before they desire to be grateful (thank you)
• We train them in the language of respect before they desire to be respectful (ma’am, sir, Mrs., Mr.)
• We train them in the language of prayer before they desire to pray (“God is great, God is good”, The Lord’s Prayer)

In short, we teach our children the language they need to interact with others well before they have any real concept of or value for why such language is necessary and good.

Because of this, I would answer the question “Should I require my child to apologize?” with an emphatic “Yes.” If we faithfully equip our children with the language of courtesy, gratitude, respect and prayer, why would we not also equip them with the language of forgiveness? Is it not equally important for them to know? How would training them to apologize encourage them to lie any more than training them to say “Thank you” before they are truly thankful? Would it not seem unloving to leave them verbally empty-handed when facing a situation where forgiveness needs to be sought?

the liturgical child

Children are wonderfully liturgical creatures: they love repetition. This accounts for their ability to enjoy the same book or video over and over again, their attachment to a bedtime ritual or a particular pair of socks, their tendency to shout “Again, again!” when they ride the carousel. Children are wired for repetition because repetition helps them to learn.

 

Just as a pastor in a church that uses a liturgy each week would not assume that his congregation possessed genuine faith because they repeated the Apostles’ Creed, we parents do not assume that our child feels genuine repentance just because she has been trained to apologize. But we give her the right words trusting that the right motive will attach to them as she matures.

Just as the congregation needs to witness their pastor live out the truths of the liturgy as he ministers to them, so our children need to witness us live out the truth of the language we teach to them. A child who sees his parents apologize with genuine remorse when they have wronged him learns quickly to do the same. Every time we apologize to our children we give them a picture of what mature, genuine apologies sound like: “I am so sorry I hurt you with my words. If I were you I would have felt so scared and sad that Mom yelled. It isn’t right for me to speak to you like that. You are precious to me. I love you so much, and I don’t want to do that again. I didn’t honor God and I didn’t honor you. I’m praying God will help me to stop. Can you forgive me?”

older children and apologies

Should we require older children to apologize? As our children grow, they become developmentally able to link right motive to right action. They become capable of seeking forgiveness without prompting and without memorized words. An older child who has demonstrated genuine remorse in the past (and has seen it modeled by parents) is probably ready for a different approach when an apology is needed.

• “That was a big outburst. What do you think needs to happen next?” {I need to apologize} “Yes. Would you like to do that now, or do you need a few minutes to think about what you want to say?”
• “I think you know what the right thing to do here is. I am praying the Holy Spirit will show you  your need for forgiveness. We’re ready to talk to you when you’re ready.”
• “You should apologize to your mom. Why don’t you take some time to think about what you want to say, and when you’re ready, come tell her how you feel about what happened.”

And then, yes, wait for genuine repentance to manifest. If it is slow to appear, you may need additional conversations about how unforgiveness harms relationships, and you may need consequences to drive home the point. But a child who knows the security of having a parent who quickly repents and forgives will typically run to do the same.

So, yes, require an apology from your young child. Don’t let fear of raising a liar keep you from training your children in the liturgy of repentance. Model what godly repentance looks like for them, train them faithfully in the language of forgiveness, and pray that the Lord will use your words and your example to bring about genuine repentance in their young hearts.

FAQ: toddler tantrums - what should i do?

For awhile, I have wanted to start posting some of my responses to frequently-asked parenting questions that come my way. Unfortunately, my schedule has not cooperated. Parenting advice is not something to be given in a hurry. And it's hard to give, because while every child is different, parents tend to look for a one-size-fits-all solution to solve their current problem. I should know - I certainly have.

So for my inaugural FAQ post, I'm going to allow a new blogging friend I have gotten to know to do some of the work for me. Her name is Emily Morrice, and she blogs at {our nest in the city} on a number of topics you might enjoy if you're a mom with energy, taste and creativity (or if, like me, you just wish you were). Emily has small children, and this summer she contacted me to ask for advice on how to handle tantrums. She posted my response on her blog, along with her own observations on what was effective for her child and what was not.

I applaud Emily for applying common sense and context to any parenting advice offered to her, and I urge you to do the same. With that in mind, if you're dealing with tantrums (and based on my inbox, MANY of you are :) ) I hope you find my comments and her responses helpful. You can read her post here:

{disarming toddler tantrums}

I would add one additional thought to what I shared with Emily: sometimes children throw fits because they sense that we have not been giving them our full attention. A fit is a quick and easy way to gain it. Sometimes fit-throwing can be diminished or prevented by deliberately finding regular times during the day when you can focus fully on the child in question. Having had four kids in four years, I know first-hand how hard it is to find time to fully focus on a two-year-old when you are also caring for a newborn. But a little face-time goes a long way and is worth the investment, even if it's just a quick moment to work a puzzle or read a book together.

If you find yourself losing your temper over your child's tantrums, you might also check out this post I wrote a few months back. Toddlers teach us to marvel at the patience of God toward His children, don't they? May your patience and consistency with your child be richly rewarded - keep your eyes on the long-term!