The poet Robert Frost wrote: “The best way out is always through”. This is true of many things: from the mundanity of emptying the dishwasher, to the complexity of negotiating our inner emotional lives. It’s wise advice when it comes to supporting the emotional development of our children, too.
As children move through typical development, it is normal that they will experience a range of emotions. Dr. Margot Sunderland is a British child psychologist, child mental health expert and an award winning author. In her exceptional book “The Science of Parenting” she explains how we’re born with the ability to feel only the simplest of emotions, including: rage, fear, and distress.
Over time, we develop the ability to feel all the nuanced feelings in between. That is, we gradually learn how to mix those colours into the limitless myriad of emotional shades that describe the masses of varied feelings we all experience. Melancholy. Frustration. Joy. Excitement. Anxiety. Merriment. Pensiveness. They’re all in there, they just take a little time to develop.
But those first emotions: the deep feelings that are there from the start? Feeling those is as natural as blinking. A tiny baby who is in love with the feeling of being cuddled close to mum is going to express her rage, fear and/or distress if she has to leave those arms to be clicked into her carseat. That’s only natural! It’s not naughtiness or wilfulness to express those emotions, it’s a perfectly reasonable reaction.
The flip side of that interaction lies with the dear Mama who is trying oh-so hard to do the right thing as she gently slides Baby into the carseat. How frustrating, how disappointing, how infuriating to be met with angry tears when all she’s trying to do is keep her baby safe and make it to that appointment on time! So it’s also perfectly reasonable that mum has her own emotional reaction in that moment.
The emotions are normal and reasonable. It’s what we do with the emotions that really counts. Again, an understanding of basic brain function can help to make sense of this story.
As you might already know, our brains develop in a hierarchical way – from simple to complex. I like Dr. Bruce Perry’s analogy of a layer cake – the idea that we have to bake the bottom layer before we can add the next. One of the key messages of this understanding is the idea that, as children, we bake our emotion layer before we bake our logical layer. That is, we experience emotion before we learn to regulate, contain or manage those emotions.
We learned to regulate our emotions by having our emotions regulated by our good-enough parent, again and again. When we soothe our babies, rock them gently and speak to them kindly, we allow them to piggyback our psychobiological state and get back to a place of calm. We are the metronome, ticking consistently, so that when they get out of rhythm they can get back to the beat by feeling and witnessing our calm and steady groove.
Which is all very well when we’re in a calm state. But what about when our own internal metronome is feeling a little erratic? It can be really hard to project zen mama vibes amidst the sleep-deprivation, domestic chaos and other adjustments of parenthood – let alone the dramas of the wider world! So how do we model regulation if we, ourselves, are feeling dysregulated?
I sometimes describe dysregulation as the feeling of being “out of whack”, and it is important to remember that there are biological realities that help to keep us “in whack”. Drink plenty of water. Eat regular, healthy, protein-rich snacks. Go for a walk in the fresh air. Avoid media that stirs you up.
Take deeper breaths. Rest whenever you can (I know – it can feel like a slap in the face to tell an already tired parent to get some sleep. But seriously, if you can … get some sleep!).
When we tend to those biological basics, we are more likely to be able to engage our rational brains. It is our mighty prefrontal cortex that enables us to think logically about our feelings and to resist acting out as a result of those feelings, and access to our cortex is improved when our biological systems send messages of satiation.
For example: I might want to yell at my family when they’re slow to the table and dinner is getting cold – y’know, the dinner I have just spent ages preparing. Believe me: I might reeeeeeally want to yell at them in that moment, but my logical mind knows that this will not improve things. Whether or not I have the capacity to obey that higher, logical, cortical brain is largely influenced by that regulatory story. How hungry am I? How tired am I? Am I already stressed by deadlines or budgets? Is this really about the wilting of the stir fry or is it about feeling underappreciated?
Here’s where I return to that “good-enough parent” I mentioned earlier. The academic literature reminds us time and again that we do not have to get it right every time in order to be effective. Parenting can be such blimmin’ hard work, nobody is Sister Sunshine every minute of the day, and friends: that is absolutely OK.
What matters is to strive for “good-enough”. A good enough parent will lose her cool from time to time, but she’ll have the wherewithal to apologise, later. At other times, a good enough parent will succeed in recognising that a stormcloud of emotion is brewing, and that this is a cue to pause.
Just for a moment. Whatever you’re doing: about to retrieve a hot dish from the oven or setting the table with a grumpy clatter (am I the only one who does that?) – just pause. Breathe in, breathe out: and notice your body.
Where are the feels? Tense lips? Raised shoulders? Churning stomach? Our bodies have so much valuable information for us if we just give them a moment’s attention. In a culture where it’s acceptable (encouraged!) to distract, numb and ignore our bodies and feelings to the detriment of our collective mental health, we are well advised to check in with those bodies and feelings. Deliberately.
One night, as I was stomping around my kitchen (I know, I’m the worst!) I took a moment to see what was up. I stopped, breathed, and noticed that there was a churning in my tummy. Took another breath: thought “why am I so short-fused with everyone? I am being really grumpy with the fam and they’re not being any more annoying than usual!” Breathing, noticing: “My body doesn’t feel angry. My stomach feels like it does when I’m worried. My body is telling me I’m anxious about something.”
Moments later, I had it. I was anxious about something, I just hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge it. Earlier that day, I’d sent work to a new colleague and I was probably keener to impress them than I wanted to admit! I hadn’t heard back from them yet, and my subconscious mind was chewing on that while my busy hands tried to get dinner on the table. For my slow-to-arrive family! A perfect storm of maternal grumpiness!
And realise: this whole inner exchange only took about ten seconds. From the time I noticed I was stomping & clattering my way around the kitchen, I paused, breathed and felt (yes, with my eyes closed), and I was back within seconds. But this time with more patience for myself, and therefore for my whānau. By giving ourselves a microsecond of compassion – noticing our bodies and acknowledging our emotions – we are better equipped to act intentionally.
It’s a practice, and I’m a bit of an old lady, so I’ve been doing this for years. This habit of paying attention to our bodies in order to identify our emotions might take a little longer, as you’re getting used to it. But friends: it is such a worthwhile habit, worthy of practice.
Even better, you can describe the process to your little ones.
“Oh, I’m feeling stompy. Let me just put down this washing basket, take a couple of deep breaths, and see what my body tells me. Woah: my shoulders are up around my ears! I’m feeling tense! I’m going to do a few shoulder rolls and notice that everything is OK. Right. That’s a bit better! Now I’ll hang that load of washing”.
It’s useful to say it out loud! Use your words to identify bodily connection. It helps children to express themselves when we name our own emotions. This is a skill with measurable benefits! Recent work by researchers at the University of Sydney and Oxford University concluded that “understanding emotions is nearly as important as IQ for students’ academic success”.
It’s also perfectly normal for parents to struggle, sometimes, as they deal with their child’s sadness, anger, or overexcitement. Witnessing the struggle of our little ones can feel almost unbearable at times. A lovely mum I know said “It’s easier to feel sad and disappointed yourself than it is to see your children feeling sad, disappointed, let down or unhappy. Another friend told me she finds it “hard to be the grownup when my instinct is to just wish my son an impossible eternal happiness”.
There is a story that applies here, I think. It goes something like this: a little child is watching a butterfly struggle as it attempts to wiggle its way out of a chrysalis. The child longs to help the butterfly, to peel the chrysalis away and lessen the struggle. Luckily, a grandparent is on hand to explain to the child that it is essential for the butterfly to struggle its way out– it is this process that strengthens the butterfly’s wings. Without the struggle, the butterfly would never fly.
Maybe we don’t like witnessing kid’s emotions because of what it triggers in ourselves. This is especially true for parents who aren’t comfy experiencing their own ebbing & flowing emotions. Maybe we were shamed for getting angry or mocked for being sad, by unskilful or uncaring people in our own childhoods. If this sounds like you, I prescribe nurturing self-care, the loving relationships of compassionate friends, and perhaps therapeutic support so you can unpack this notion with a trained professional.
Being able to accept our own emotions will help us to work toward compassion for children as they learn to accept their own. This will upskill us to be able to act as what my friend Nathan Wallis, parent educator, calls being an “emotion coach”.
It’s time well spent to work toward that place of understanding emotions. As Dr. Rick Hanson would say: “Besides being good for other people, strengthening the ‘muscle’ of the heart calms your body, protects its immune system, lifts your mood, and evokes caring from others.”
Let’s feel all our own feels, and support our kids to do so, too.
Originally published in OHbaby! magazine, issue 50, Winter 2020 Also available at: https://www.ohbaby.co.nz/parenting/parenting-tools-your-style-and-what-your-child-needs/teaching-kids-how-to-manage-emotions