Sucker Punched: A Mindful Parenting Guest Post

“The bigger the kid, the bigger the problems.”

That phrase really resonates with me.

As first-time parents, we worry about small stuff like eating dirt, biting, and delayed speech – all a natural part of raising small children who are exploring and respond to the world around them. As our kids grow we realize that these little things are just a phase.

And then one day your bright, well-liked, peaceful boy throws a gut-punch to his best friend.

I was already en route to pick up my second grader from his best friend’s house when the call arrived. He was mad, punched his buddy, and refused to apologize. Flabbergasted, I called my husband. “Just tell the mom that boys will be boys,” he advised. “It was probably just a misunderstanding.”

That wasn’t going to work. I don’t believe in that theory of rough and tumble play and it isn’t how I’m raising my three young boys.

When I arrived, both boys were in tears. I tried to facilitate a conversation in which each child felt free to express his feelings about what happened before and after the punch. It was shaky, at best. My kid was surprised at his own behavior and felt displaced anger; his buddy was shocked that his best friend would physically attack him.

I don’t believe in forced apologies. They aren’t heartfelt; they just fill the air with stale, perfunctory words. So the mom and I exchanged furrowed brows and shoulder shrugs, and my son and I left.

“How much trouble am I in? What is my punishment? I know you’re mad at me! Am I allowed to go to baseball practice tomorrow? What are you going to tell Daddy?” He sobbed from the back seat.

My husband was home when we arrived. I dumped our twin toddlers in his lap, gave dinner instructions, and led my oldest son upstairs to my bedroom. We sunk down on the bed.

“Our bodies are like a bottle,” I said, drawing on scrap paper. “And when we keep our feelings inside they start to take up space inside. Let’s say someone cut in line at school. That would make me a little mad.” I continued coloring in the bottle while he shared scenarios of what irritates him: icky leftovers in his lunchbox, when reading time ends, mean kids on the playground, and so on.

“If we keep all these feelings in, the one that sets us over the top could be tiny but our reaction is so big. Like punching a friend.  Think about it: Did you punch him because of the joke he told at your expense? Or was that just the last thing to make you mad? Maybe that punch was a result of all of your hurt feelings up until now.”

His feelings poured out. I learned more about playground politics, his classroom and teachers, his buddies, and his insecurities that night than ever before. All because I stopped talking and started listening. I asked non-judgmental questions. I was calm, relaxed, and focused.