Firmness is a kindness
In a recent post, I talked about how freedom and responsibility are always accessed hand in hand. You cannot hope that your child will access responsibility if you do not also grant them true freedom in which to exercise it.
Today I would like us to consider the inverse proposition. When we give a young child a level of freedom that is not age appropriate, we also burden them with a matching responsibility. This is a really good reason to hold firm boundaries: not to frustrate them, not to have our way, but to relieve them of a responsibility that is too heavy for them.
I can feel it in my bones: I can bring to mind one of the many days where I woke up too early, after too chopped up a night. I make breakfast and check packed bags, I take my children to a variety of places for their care — perhaps it’s the school holidays and our logistics are unusually complicated that day. I proceed to have a full work day as a professional, interrupted by the mundane — signing for a package, troubleshooting the dishwasher — and perhaps by the exceptional. I work until the very minute I must run out to collect my children. I try a hard switch to an attitude of relaxation, of openness, I make time for hugs, for stories, for reading to them in the train. And what adult freedom awaits me at the end of the day? Oh yes, choosing what to make for dinner. Well, some days, I wish I didn’t have to be responsible for that too1.
The same is true for young children. Letting them choose, or rather making them choose, between this or that T-shirt, between noodles or rice, between bedtime now or in five minutes (nevermind that they have no concept of “five minutes”), is not always the autonomy they need. Sometimes it’s just another cognitive task put on someone who is already exhausted. Showing adult leadership and taking these decisions away from them can be supportive. It can be kind.
Children do not relish in hitting you. Even if they do so with a stress smile or a cackle. They may not have the self control to stop themselves, but it does not mean that they want this. You are doing them a kindness when you block their fists. You are being kind to them when you lend them the control and regulation that they cannot access in the moment. Block their blows, hold their fists, grab them in a bear hug. You can keep your own hands and your own voice soft even as your movements are decisive. Firmly preventing them from hitting you is being kind to them.
A child who is constantly testing your boundaries, asking again and again and again for dessert when you said no, is a child trying to connect. She is a child trying to know you. Who are you? What do you really stand for? What matters to you, what matters enough for you to stand firm? When you yield and tell her to grab whatever she wants from the fridge or the pantry because you are so tired, you are evading her bid for connection. You are refusing to let her know what you really think, what you really believe. The person who lives under the same roof as her remains a stranger. That’s not kind. That’s skirting your responsibilities. You should not be a wild card to your kids, your apparent principles shifting under their foundations depending on your mood or the time of the day. They deserve from ground. They deserve to know where they stand. That is a kindness.
I was in a conversation recently where someone acknowledged, as shorthand for this sentiment, that sometimes you have to be a little mean for your children’s well-being, but I want to be very clear — being firm is not being mean! It is not something you should approach with reluctance, a sacrifice in the short term as investment for a more secure future. You can both be firm and full of empathy. It is immediately beneficial. It is good and right, right now.
And the truth is, I don’t really have to be; I have spent a lot of effort front-loading decisions like these. I like to implement systems that relieve me of decision making in the moment so that we all stay on track with the life we want to build.