The Misunderstood Parents of Misunderstood Kids

“Have you tried setting up a clear morning and bedtime routine for him?”

A counselor kindly offered suggestions when I told her my child was not sleeping well at night and then refusing to go to school in the morning.

I smiled thinly, and said we could try that, but deep inside I wanted to swing a few really sarcastic punches.

Setting a routine would be between number 8 and 818 on the list of priorities right now.

I think of all the well meaning advice I’ve heard through the years, or all the people who offer their experience as though it is the same as mine.

Sometimes a child doesn’t fit neatly into the typical parenting strategies and discipline categories. Sometimes the well-meaning suggestions make you feel more isolated and less understood. Sometimes the people who say, “Oh yes, I know what that’s like” (except they don’t) leave you more irritated than held.

There’s no way you would suggest or say that if you only knew what we’re dealing with.

I sensor myself somewhat here because not all the details of my life or my child’s need to be shared.

But my child has struggled for several years, and we as parents along with him. Sometimes my child gets into an angry outburst that is so irrational that, much like a panic attack, you can’t reason the kid through it or threaten consequences to get it to stop. And like a panic attack, it often stems from anxiety, or a general fear of not being in control.

My “good Christian” upbringing tells me I should never let my child speak disrespectfully, disobey me without consequences, or even have a child who is so defiant at this age.

But in the angriest moments, as I watch this child struggle, I do not comment if they swear during rants or if they say the most ridiculous, untrue things. You sit long enough to try to calm- you make sure the child is safe- you pray that peace arrives. In half a second a trigger sparks the fire, and you may spend the next 30 minutes or more figuring out how to turn on the hose to cool it all down.

Honestly, it feels helpless sometimes, not because we are playing victims, but because we’ve tried so many things that don’t seem to work.

You can only enforce so much because at a certain age, timeouts are obsolete (unless you have a compliant child tween and hopefully they don’t need timeouts in the first place.) I can’t yell the child to school- I can’t monitor all the things they do and say and eat. I cannot MAKE them want vegetables, much less proper hygiene, school or God for that matter.

But we make tough choices. Since this child struggles with sleep, they like to watch tv at night, which we don’t allow. But I’m not going to sit awake on the couch all night playing sentry. So short of setting alarms all over the house, we hide the remotes and electronic devices. Of course, we have to hide them first, or this kid will hide them from us. And let me tell you…this is no amateur.

I wish I were kidding when I say I just purchased digital trackers for the remotes so we are in constant control of the controllers.

We also hide candy and unhealthy snacks when we can, to prevent the snack sneaking that exacerbates the anger and surely impedes the sleep.

We are trying counseling and a 504 plan at school. IF something is destroyed during an angry moment, we try to have this child make amends as best they can. But we don’t force them to do it immediately- we’ve learned to give space for them to calm down. Again, there’s a part of me that still wants to stand on “the principal of the matter” and dig in my heels, but angry humans, no matter the age, seem to view heel-digging as a challenge.

So we are trying to set limits and give grace at the same time.

But this is a battle. If your kids struggles with anxiety, it may come out in a million ways. For mine, there is a lot of anger and control and it shows up mostly at home.

And the best thing you can do for a parent who struggles like this is to listen without trying to fix or offer solutions unless they are solicited. And yes, offer solidarity if you can relate because that makes me feel so much less alone. But be careful in your comparison that you acknowledge that you or your child’s experience probably isn’t just like mine. And as much as we want to know, we simply can’t.

I think sometimes the loneliness of sharing your story and not being TRULY listened to is worse than the loneliness of not sharing your story at all.

Which goes for most things we experience in life- whether grief or medical issues or family history or even gender or racial experiences.

But to all those who have listened without judgement, who have offered wisdom without judgement, and equal parts humility and advice, I am grateful for you. And I share this story because I hope that someone else maybe can relate, even if your story is so very different. But if you feel underseen, unheard, and over-advised on a child you’ve wrestled in isolation to parent- please know that I see you and would love to listen if you ever need an ear.