During a recent conversation with my two oldest children, my 11-year old daughter asked, “Do you need a degree from the university to do what mom does?”

“No,” I smiled. “A housewife or homemaker doesn’t have to have a college degree.”

Wanting to put in his two cents worth, my 10-year old son quickly asserted, “I don’t want my wife to have to go to college or work…I’m going to let her stay home with the kids so she can relax.”

While being a father may have its relaxing moments, I’m not sure many mothers know the feeling.  In raising children, most mothers and fathers can relate to the following feelings a couple recently shared with me:

“My life is a roller coaster:  one minute I’m running my son to piano lessons, the next I’m trying to mediate a fight between my other son and a neighbor boy, and the next I’m washing my daughter’s coat (for the third time in two weeks).”  The mother of three seemed eager to be heard.

“I can be giggling with my four-year old one minute, then be in a major power struggle with him the next.  When I step back and look at all the things I could do better, I just feel like giving up.  I see things that I could do better on, yet see myself making the same mistakes over and over.  It all wears on me, and the guilt is the worst part.”

“I agree – the guilt’s the worst,” the woman’s husband interrupted.  “Sometimes I feel like I’m on top of things with my children, but then I get caught up in work or some hobby and I forget about the kids.  Or I’ll yell at one of them, even while I’m remembering my vow (made just two days earlier) to work through problems with them rather than scream at them and banish them to their bedroom.”

“There’s just no feeling like looking in on your sleeping child at the end of the day, and realizing that they’re growing up without you spending the time you should with them.  I’m suddenly flooded with promises I have made to help Timmy fix his racetrack, or to talk with Jessica about an argument we’ve had.  Sometimes the feeling’s so strong that I’m tempted to awaken the kids right then and there and make up for my inattentiveness as a father.  I hate the regret.”

Poignant comments like these are the common experience of conscientious parents everywhere.  Like this couple, most mothers and fathers are aware of a number of their shortcomings as parents.  For most of us, the guilt we feel motivates us to take action, to do better as parents.

Most parents recognize that their children get a lot of mileage out of parental attention and effort (of which, by the way, few parents have an endless supply).  Quite simply, nothing seems to be more critical to effective parenting than time and patience, yet with life whirling all about us, nothing seems as challenging for us to give.

So we must make the time.  And we must manufacture the patience.  As parents we are continually beckoned by growing minds and bodies, and if we are honest, we must admit that we find ourselves falling short at times.

For some, “falling short” produces a momentary discomfort that nudges at their conscience and prompts them to make necessary adjustments.  Others have become dulled to “falling short,” and thus fail to give their children more than a meager dose of emotional sustenance.  Then there are those who live under the oppressive tyranny of guilt, a guilt that once motivated but has become so constant that it creates feelings of helplessness, frustration, and despair.

The fact is, most parents do a whale of a job with their kids.  Most parents are intent on giving their children the best they have…and this means their very best time, and their most undivided attention.  Parents simply need to balance out their self-criticisms with a recognition that they do many good things, and with a commitment to continue to strive to do better.  As long as feelings of guilt do not become overwhelming and smothering, they serve a productive function.

When we heed the promptings of conscience to take the time to reach and train our children, or to apologize to them, or to play or interact with them, we become more effective parents.

While good parenting doesn’t require a college degree, it does require the equivalent in time, dedication, and (according to some juvenile sources) the willingness to put up with considerable relaxation.

Steven M. Gentry, Ph.D., is a Child & Family Psychologist and the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

Someone once said that relationships and feelings are all that really matter in life; that everything else is of secondary importance.  Of the many relationships a person develops throughout
his (or her) life, none has a greater or more long-lasting impact (for good or bad) on him than those formed with his parents.  Such relationships set the stage — provide the foundation — for the child’s developing view of himself, others, and the world.  The bonding process which begins at birth is critical to the development of the newborn’s sense of trust and security.  Later, the quality of the attachment between parent and child affects the child’s developing self-image, ability to relate to others, and judgment and decision-making (to name just a few areas).

Parents give their children a priceless gift when they blend nurturance with discipline to create the basis for a healthy relationship.  As experienced parents know, however, this gift requires more than just good intentions or words alone; it requires considerable time, effort, and patience.  Of these, perhaps none is more difficult for parents to come by than time.

Several years ago the LDS Church produced the Homefront Series, a collection of TV commercials aimed at promoting the Church’s image and values.  One commercial opened with a father lounging in his easy chair while eating in front of the TV.  In the background stood his child, sadly and impatiently waiting for his father to come play catch with him.  An anonymous voice asks the father, “Remember when you promised your son you’d spend some time with him next week?” to which the father lazily nods his head.  “It’s ‘next week’,” the voice pointedly chides.

Periodic reminders that “next week” is here help parents stay focused on their most important shared priority: their children.  Children need their parents’ time and attention, not merely for supervision but, more importantly, for their developing self-image.  They need to feel that they are important, that they’re worth spending time with.  When parents take time with a child, they send a strong message of love and approval that registers deep within the child’s heart.  This is time well-invested, as it contributes to the child’s development of a healthy self-concept.  Conversely, failure to give time and attention to one’s child can, over time, leave him feeling that little of who he is or what he does is of value.  Such low self-esteem places the child at risk for seeking attention and approval in less ideal places and in less desirable ways.

Clearly, the amount of time spent together has a tremendous impact on the nature of the parent-child relationship.  Some have argued that it’s “quality time” rather than the quantity of time spent together which is most important.  While I agree that the quality of the time spent is crucial, I think this argument is often used as an excuse for not spending more time with one’s children (or spouse, for that matter).  The story is told of a man who ordered a prime cut of steak at a fine restaurant.  When the waitress brought him his meal, the man immediately was indignant that the steak was only one inch in diameter, only a fraction of what he had eagerly anticipated.  “But”, insisted the waitress, “you asked for our highest quality steak.”  Clearly, quality counts, but not at the expense of quantity.

Parents busy raising a family know all too well how bills and errands and responsibilities can get in the way of the “more important things” of spending time with little (or bigger) ones.  Life seems to work against us because it often brings on added responsibility the longer we live; just when our kids need us most we seem to have that much more to do.  What’s worse, adulthood robs us of the energy we once had, so we’d rather sit on the couch and read the newspaper or plop down in front of a good video than play Barbies, Catch, or talk about the “cute guys” at school.

Despite these obstacles, just about every mother and father can rehearse instances in their own childhood, “golden moments” that have been forged into memory by loving parents.  I remember, for instance, when my father used to fold up a towel for home plate and call ‘balls’ and ‘strikes’ as I pitched to him in the back yard.  I likewise remember the Saturday evenings when, after bath time, Mom would give us kids a snack and let us choose between going to bed or watching Lawrence Welk on the old black and white TV.  It still doesn’t seem like Lawrence Welk was much of a choice, but I do have the memory of mom singing to the orchestra tunes midst all those bubbles.

One of the greatest opportunities parents have in influencing their children’s lives for good are found in the moment-by-moment opportunities for positive memories.  We’ve all taken advantage of these, such as when you took the time to place a note of love and support in your son’s backpack that he will only discover when he opens his book during math; or when you asked your daughter if she’d mind if you sat by her at dinnertime, then you gloated to the family of the many ways she resembles the ideal mother of a future prophet; or how about the time you surprised your son by including yourself in on a basketball game when his friends come over to play?  Other positive experiences have been created out of outings for ice cream cones, trips to the public library for books, visits to the mountains for a hike or to sing and tell stories around the campfire, and spontaneously splashing in the heaven-sent downpour with the kids.  Family vacations are themselves ready-made producers of priceless memories that often become legends over time.  The establishment of traditions, too, can add to the closeness between parents and children.  Quite simply, the positive influence parents have on their children grows as they spend time with them, be it on a grand scale or in the moments of everyday life.

Indeed, even more important than the “golden moments” are the simple daily interactions between parent and child, such as the time a mother spends and the interest she shows in her son’s cut knee; the attention a father gives as his daughter plays her newest piano piece; the understanding a father offers as his son tells of a fight with a friend; or the patience a mother shows in not retaliating when her daughter says hateful things in a moment of rage.  Similar demonstrations of love are shown by parents who take the time and effort to consistently employ discipline and uphold family rules.  Part of loving a child is taking the time to correct and teach him when he misbehaves.  The above efforts form part of how a child remembers his parents, will greatly influence his childhood experience, and will have a tremendous impact on the type of adult and parent he himself becomes.

Naturally, expending time and effort in a child’s behalf does not guarantee that he will develop as his parents might hope.  None of us is perfect in our parenting nor do we have endless resources to draw from.  Still, we can all give a little  more to our children.  The “little more” involves time and energy and patience.  Our children need our genuine interest in their lives, attention to their successes and failures, encouragement to persist in times of difficulty, and support in their efforts to do their best.  There is simply no substitute, no short-cut to spending time with our children, nor is it something we can delegate to others.  We can all do a little better if we remember that ‘next week’ begins this week.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Steven M. Gentry, PhD., Child & Family Psychologist and Executive Director of  Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

Note: The following are excerpts from an interview prepared for radio broadcast in the Summer of 1995 with Dr. Steven M. Gentry.  The feminine case is used to refer to the victim; this is done for the sake of clarity and simplicity only, and in no way implies that genders and roles in abuse are so rigidly defined.

Q:  What are some of the myths that have been perpetuated concerning child sexual abuse?

A.  Sexual abuse occurs only among strangers (national figures indicate that 85% of child sexual abuse is perpetrated by someone known to the victim).

B.  Children provoke sexual abuse by their seductive behavior (abuse is typically a premeditated, planned act by the perpetrator, who is careful and calculating in setting up and executing his plans).

C.  Most victims tell someone about the abuse (estimates suggest that 2/3 of victims never tell of their abuse due to a fear of being blamed, punished, or not being believed).

D.  Men and women sexually abuse children equally (approximately 90% of perpetrators are men, most of whom are heterosexual and concurrently involved in a consenting sexual relationship).

E.  If a child does not want to be touched, they can say “stop!” (Children typically trust those older than them and therefore don’t question their motives or actions; indeed children are taught to respect and obey their elders.  Moreover, older children and adults exceed younger children in physical strength, knowledge (some victims report that they assumed that everyone gets abused), and sophistication.  Finally, the perpetrator possesses the element of surprise.

F.  All sexual abuse victims are girls (studies suggest that one of four girls and one of six to eight boys under age 18 are victims of sexual abuse).

G.  Incest (illicit sexual contact between relatives) is an isolated, one-time incident (most incestuous abuse doesn’t stop until it’s reported; research indicates it often continues for two or more years before it is reported).

Q:  What are some signs indicating that a child may have been sexually abused?

While any acute trauma or stressful event is likely to affect a child’s mood and behavior; the following symptoms are among the most common sequelae produced by sexual victimization.  Victims of abuse often show a sudden increase in:

~ sadness, depression, listlessness, loss of interest in previously pleasurable activities (e.g., a young child may show a notable decrease in exuberant, spontaneous play).

~ irritability, mood swings, temper tantrums

~ anxiety, avoidance, fearfulness and clinginess, nightmares, sleep disturbance

~ reluctance to go or be with certain people, rejection of physical affection

~ appetite disturbance, wetting or soiling of underwear, physical complaints (e.g., aches, pains)

~ poor school performance, poor concentration

~ preoccupation with one’s own or other’s private parts

Q:  What are some of the ways in which sexual abuse affects a child?

Victims of abuse often report a host of feelings related to their abuse.  These include confusion, guilt, sadness, anger, fear, self-doubt, and shame.  The extent to which a child is traumatized depends on a number of factors, such as:

* the age of the child at the time of the abuse;

* the gender of the child;

* the severity, frequency, and duration of the abuse;

* the relationship of the child to the perpetrator;

* the perpetrator’s use of manipulation, coercion, or threats;

* the parents’ (and other caregivers’) responses to the child’s disclosure about the abuse; and

* the personality of the child.

Q:  Could you elaborate further on the emotional impact of sexual abuse on a child?

Confusion: While abuse is, by definition, among the most painful traumas a person can experience, there may be positive aspects to it for the victim.  These most often occur in the form of 1) individualized attention and/or 2) sexual touch.  Either one of these powerful factors may lead the victim to confuse sexual behavior with caring and being close.  Additional confusion may ensue when children — who often view their parents as perfect, all-knowing, and all-powerful — must reconcile this belief with the reality that their parents did not (and in fact, could not) protect/rescue them.

Fear: If the abuse was incest, the child may feel that no place – even her own home or bedroom – is a safe place.  Incest has a particularly strong effect upon the victim’s ability to trust others, even those close to her.  Regardless of the source of the abuse, the victim may continue to worry about retribution by the perpetrator once she has “told on” him.  Additionally, young girls who lack a clear understanding of reproduction may worry that the abuse – even if it didn’t involve intercourse – may lead to pregnancy.

Guilt: Victims often say “it’s my fault”.  They chastise themselves (“Why did I let this hap- pen?”) and second-guess their decisions (“If I had just done …  differently.”; “If only . . .”).  Too, they may feel guilty for any pleasurable sensations they may have experienced during the abuse.

Shame: This is perhaps the most evident emotion, and also the most pernicious; it is a primary reason victims choose to avoid thinking about or discussing their abuse.  Victims often describe feeling different from other kids.  They fear that other children will find out what has happened and will reject them.  Their self-image suffers as they see themselves as dirty, cheapened, useless, failures, or conclude that “I’m only good for one thing.”

Sadness: Where there is shame, sadness is sure to follow.  The victim may conclude she is a bad person (“I’m no good to anybody anymore”), feel worthless, and feel trapped by feelings and perceptions that may seem like they’ll never go away.  It is not uncommon for the sadness to lead to feelings of hopelessness and suicide.

Anger: Anger is typically the last emotion a victim experiences.  While the perpetrator should clearly be the target of such anger, the victim may find that her anger “spills over” against herself (“I hate myself”), parents, and – if the perpetrator was a man – men in general.

Q:  How should a parent best respond when a child discloses that she has been sexually abused?

 1.  Most importantly, believe your child.  Children seldom have a motive for making something this serious up.

2.  Remain calm in your child’s presence.  You becoming upset is precisely what she fears most, and it will hinder rather than help her.

3.  Allow her to speak and do not pressure her.  Initially, too much interrupting on your part (i.e., to uncover details) may scare and intimidate her.

4.  Praise her for disclosing the abuse.  Breaking the silence proves to be an extremely hard thing for many children to do, even with those they trust most.

5.  Continually reassure your child that the perpetrator, not her, is to blame for the abuse.  Guilt and shame are among the most potent emotions accompanying victimization; what you say early on can keep negative emotions from intensifying.

6. Assure her that she is safe, that you’re sorry that she’s been hurt, and that you will protect her from further abuse.

7. Respect your child’s privacy by telling only those who must know about the abuse, beginning with the police, the Children’s Justice Center, the Division of Child and Family Services, or a counselor or church leader.  Note that you do not need any evidence for the abuse; others bear the burden of investigating the veracity of the claims.  Your role as a parent is to support, encourage, and protect your child.

Q:  What kind of help is available for victims of abuse?

             Next to prevention, early intervention is the best way to help children deal with sexual abuse.  Counseling can play a significant role in the healing process for the child (and for other family members as well).  The length of treatment varies according to a number of factors (see below).  Every community has a number of therapists with specific training and expertise in working with victims of abuse.  In addition, there are a number of sensitive, well-written books on the topic that can aid both parent and child regain a sense of order and control in their lives.

Fortunately, victims and families affected by abuse can often qualify for state funding through the Crime Victims Reparations (CVR) office, located in Salt Lake City.  This funding offsets the cost of counseling for the victim and her immediate family members; the program coordinates with the family’s health insurance policy to pay 100% of the costs of treatment.  It can also be used for other costs (babysitting, transportation, etc.) incidental to the abuse.  For more information, simply speak with a counselor, the Children’s Justice Center, or call CVR (1-800-621-7444).

 Q:  Does counseling really help, and if so, how?

Occasionally, parents (and victims themselves) resist the idea of counseling, for a number of reasons.  Some see it as a waste of time, believing that “time heals all wounds”.  Others feel that counseling will only further emphasize the trauma and delay healing (“we just need to move on with our lives”).  Still others are concerned about the costs of treatment, or that it will go on too long.  And most find the emotions and memories overwhelming.

While time does heal some wounds, it falls far short from healing all of them.  Granted, facing feelings and memories of abuse head-on is difficult, but the costs of avoiding the topic are far greater and certainly more long-lasting.  Counseling allows the victim a chance to meet with a qualified, dispassionate person to share her experience, clarify her feelings, understand the negative impact of the trauma on her ways of thinking, and learn to make decisions based on healthy coping skills.

Avoidance is a tempting choice, but it only compounds the problem, since feelings and perceptions tend to solidify over time within the child’s mind.  Professional help from a competent counselor can directly, thoroughly, and effectively address the problem.

Q:  Suppose a child’s parents have just learned that their daughter has been sexually abused. Summarize your recommendations to them.

Follow the seven steps outlined in question V above.

As you meet with concerned caseworkers and professionals, listen carefully to their counsel.  Contact a competent professional to discuss the case and determine if counseling is appropriate.  As you have questions arise, seek out material to read on the topic of sexual abuse.

To be sure, learning that your child has been sexually victimized is a life-shattering experience, and it may feel like your whole world has come crashing down.  But these feelings won’t last forever, and you’re not alone.

Don’t be afraid to lean on others, to open up and talk about your own worries, frustrations, and regrets.  Ironically, while it takes emotional strength to address problems directly, doing so produces even greater strength.  And all of this will make you more emotionally available to your child, who needs your love and encouragement now more than ever.

Steven M. Gentry, Ph.D., a Child & Family Psychologist is the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

            I’ve heard it said that the travail of nine months of pregnancy is God’s way of making the prospect of labor more manageable for a woman: by the time you’re ready to give birth, you really don’t care how the doctor reduces your load…you’ll ‘do what it takes’ to have ownership of your body again.

            It’s not long, however, before you realize you’re still ‘owned’ by your newborn.  He needs to be cuddled and fed and rocked and changed and…well, he’s just plain totally dependent on you.  And he’s likely to be terribly disrespectful of working within your framework of your time schedule.

            Which means he invariably awakes just as you’re drifting off to sleep.  Or he protests loudly when you lay him down in his crib.  Many parents know the agony of being torn between rescuing the sad little angel and letting him learn the lesson of going to sleep on his own.  It’s a classic struggle between head and heart. I admit I’ve changed my position on the matter over the years; I used to be a staunch supporter of “Ferberization,” a term used to describe the latter approach.  This method, named for America’s most well-known infant sleep expert, Richard Ferber, involves specific tactics parents use to train their infant to develop nocturnal independence.  Some refer to it as “boot camp for babies.”

            Having had their baby in the crib, parents are encouraged to ignore his cries, though they may enter the room at gradually increasing intervals to pat (but not pick up) their infant.

            As you might imagine, Ferberization seldom fails, if parents follow the specific guidelines and are persistent.  Eventually, the baby learns that his cries are for naught, and he gives up and goes to sleep.

            While I no longer favor Ferberization, neither do I see it as a bad option for those who choose to use it.  What does concern me is what I call “Ferber Fervor,” where proponents of the approach become almost evangelical in preaching The Word to others.  The less-than-subtle implication is that non-Ferberizers are sub-average in their parenting.  In their zeal to set forth their agenda, Ferber and his disciples take “leap of faith” assertions.  For instance, Ferber claims that a baby needs to fall asleep on his own so he can “see himself as an independent individual.”

            To this assumption critic Robert Wright replies:  “I’m puzzled.  It isn’t obvious to me how a baby would develop a robust sense of autonomy while being confined to a small cubicle with bars on the side and rendered powerless to influence its environment.”

            Indeed, research in this area of infant sleep is slim to slender.  Statements by Ferber disciples, like child-care expert T. Berry Brazelton, often go unchallenged.  Brazelton has said, for instance, that when a child wakes up at night and a parent refuses to heed her cries by picking her up, “she won’t like it, but she’ll understand.”  Because of his status, Brazelton can get away with such sweeping declarations, even though there’s no research to back up his claim.

            Personally, I prefer the Laissez-faire approach to infant sleep, as it maximizes benefits for both mother and child.  For instance, many mothers report developing an almost reflexive nursing of their baby (without ever waking up).  Thus, mom gets her sleep and the baby procures both physical and emotional nurturance.  The other benefit is that regular feedings help prevent painful engorgement or breast infections in the mother.

            Many critics charge that infants who aren’t ‘self-sleepers’ will have to do so at some point in time.  And they do, but it doesn’t necessarily mean it will be a traumatic time. There are things parents can do to ease into the transition.  And (perish the thought) some children continue to sleep in close proximity to their parents for quite some time; as long as it doesn’t create problems for the parents, I wouldn’t get too fussed about it.

            I know of no research showing that a child whose parents choose a ‘family bed’ approach is more likely to develop fearful, clingy, insecure behaviors later on, just as I know of no research suggestive of emotional scarring in Ferberized children.  While Ferber claims that his approach allows babies a chance to learn how to manage their nighttime anxieties and develop self-reliance, I prefer parental responsivity to infant distress, since I value comfort, nurturance, and reassurance over autonomy at this age.

Steven M. Gentry, Ph.D., is a Child & Family Psychologist and the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

            An 11-year old boy was in my office recently, talking about the sources of some of his frustrations.  Lamenting that his dad promises to take him fishing and camping, but ‘just never does it,” this boy finally let loose with the ultimate in name-calling: he called his father a “big grump.”

             I admit I was somewhat taken back by his harsh choice of words, for there’s not many things worse than being called a grump by your own kid. (I should know; I was accused of being a grump by one of my kids just last summer, and I didn’t like it one bit.)

             I told the boy about my invention of the “Grumpometer” (pronounced like thermometer), and asked him to rate his father on it.  He claimed his dad is always at the high end of the scale, that “He doesn’t know how not to be a grump.”

             While all parents have their moments of grumpiness, most of us don’t loiter around at the high end of the scale.  Still, in my estimation there are far too many parents who are inflexible, unjustifiably restrictive, or simply all too frequently critical of their children.  It is in honor of these parents that the Grumpometer scale was developed.

             I want to reiterate that I’m not talking about parents who occasionally have a bad day, or who get stressed out from time to time.  I’m talking about those parents who make a living at saying “No” to their children, those who seem to be on the lookout for something to correct in people of the little variety.  I’m talking about the parents who can hardly muster a smile or a pleasant word for their children, even when in a ‘good’ mood.

             To those in this camp I would say “Please stop being a grump. You’re giving parents everywhere a bad name.”

             Naturally, grumps aren’t the only ones who need to work on their parenting; even we non-grumps need to
spend more time saying ‘yes’ to our children and less time saying ‘no,’ more time holding them than scolding them, and more time praising them than berating them.  We all need to invest more time with our children playing Twister, helping them out with story problems, sticking love notes in their shoes while they sleep, asking for impromptu piano recitals, or (perish the thought!) playing a game or two of Nintendo.

             This whole business of loosening up and being playful with our kids came up just the other day while I was talking with a 14-year old and his 17-year old sister.  “I wish my dad would loosen up,” he said.  “I just wish he’s joke around with us kids.”

             “Yeah,” his sister added.  “Dad doesn’t know how to play with us.” 

             The idea may sound somewhat silly to some, but I see this as an all too common problem; the “play-challenged” parent.  Perhaps such parents never learned to run in the rain with their kids, or have forgotten just how fun Freeze Tag can be (especially if you have to crawl through a little person’s legs to ‘unfreeze’ them), but if they want to get behind the well-defended wall that many kids erect to protect themselves, if they want to get to the bottom of why a child is so angry, or if they simply want to enjoy some time with little folks, joining children in play is a good starting point.

             I suppose it’s little coincidence that many grumps are also play-challenged.  But being playful and spontaneous with children can help ward off the rigor mortis so many worn down parents begin to exhibit.

             I’ll never forget a particular overnight visit from my 60-year old father-in-law several years ago.  My wife and I were awakened Saturday morning by a ruckus upstairs.  When we went to investigate, we found Grandpa in our three and four-year old’s bedroom, jumping on the bed with them as they sang “No more monkeys jumping on the bed!” Naturally, my wife and I had to ground Grandpa for making us look like grumps, but he wiggled out of it by taking us out to brunch, which we later regretted because, as you can imagine, he became quite a handful at the park.

 Steven M. Gentry, PhD, is a Child & Family Psychologist and the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

            Eleven-year old Laura came to see me for problems related to aggressive and defiant behavior.  Her mother, tapped out of ideas for helping her daughter, believed Laura’s struggles to stem from her parents’ recent divorce.  She worried about Laura’s declining grades, sudden increase in yelling and hitting, refusal to do as she was told, and tendency to pull away from friends.  She said she had found Laura crying herself to sleep at night on several occasions.

            Laura wasn’t terribly excited about going to counseling but, once in my office, was willing to draw a picture for me.  Responding to my request to draw a picture of what her parents’ divorce was like for her, Laura drew a picture of a person’s head, with a hypodermic needle poised for injection and a dagger next to it.

            Beside the picture she wrote the words: “People are usually happy about a marriage and smile and listen to their spouses.  Then they don’t get along.  An imaginary needle injects hate into their minds. A dagger cuts them apart.  They separate.”

            The parents of eight-year old Austin had been divorced for nearly 18 months when he came to see me.  In the interim both parents had remarried but the relationship between the four spouses was tense, at best.  Austin was complaining of persistent stomachaches and nightmares, as well as exhibiting symptoms of separation anxiety.

            In response to my request for a picture of divorce, Austin chose a war scene.  He placed his mother in a fighter jet, heading directly towards his step-mother, and facing him was the step-father, who was commandeering a tank.  Bombs, missiles, and a hail of bullets dotted the page, and the commotion was punctuated by explosions.  Poignantly, Austin drew himself parachuting directly in to the middle of the conflict.

            The innocent victims of divorce, children like Laura and Austin often harbor cynical, angry views and feel helpless in the face of their parents’ separation.  Such children are distressed by the profound sense of loss and confusion they feel.  Some blame themselves (in spite of parental reassurance) and feel they could and should have done more to prevent the outcome. In an effort to assuage their guilt, they may cling to a fantasy of parental reconciliation and believe that they can somehow bring it about.

            While the mood and behavior of some children will actually improve as a result of divorce, most kids struggle to some degree.  This is not to say that all children of divorce need professional help; indeed, the vast majority will, with support from parents, relatives, and friends, find the necessary strength to deal with the pain.  They will effectively navigate through the grief, loyalty conflicts, and changes due to divorce because their parents support one another and work to keep their children from getting “caught in the middle.”

            Some children, however, will have a harder time making sense of their parents’ separation.  For these kids the pain will not subside after a reasonable period of mourning.  They may become sad and withdrawn, losing the exuberance and zest for life they previously had.  Or they may lash out in anger and frustration, becoming easily irritated and blowing things out of proportion.

            A child’s ability to adjust to divorce depends on a number of factors, including his/her relationship with both parents before the divorce, the degree of economic and social (particularly if the child has to move) upheaval that occurs, the child’s personality and resilience in dealing with stress, and resources (e.g., parents, trusted adults, friends, etc.) available to the child for support and guidance.

            Perhaps the most critical factor of all, however, is how well parents communicate and cooperate with one another after the divorce.  While the divorce means two individuals have not found ways to come together as spouses, they must be able to set aside personal agendas and come together as parents.  To act in the best interests of the children means parents will avoid using the children in power struggles.  Working together means that mom and dad will learn to deposit negative feelings for each other with a close friend or therapist instead of confiding them with a child.

            Seeing one’s parents separate can shatter a child’s world; having mom and dad continue to bicker in front of the child, criticize each other in a “backstabbing” fashion, or withhold support from each other only prolongs the child’s agony.  I find that the oldest child often bears the brunt of parental stress, and is typically a barometer of how well the parents are working together. 

Steven M. Gentry, Ph.D., is a Child & Family Psychologist and the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

            Effective communication is not always as easy as it seems.  Just ask the mother who, in response to her four-year old son’s question, “Where did I come from?” replied by painstakingly explaining about the ‘birds and the bees.’ With a bored and somewhat impatient look on his face, the four-year old waited for his mother to finish, then repeated his request.  “Billy said he’s from Los Angeles; where am I from?”  Taking time to make sure we understand is often the shortest distance between two points of view.

        
    A couple came to my office recently for marital counseling, seeking to resolve some long-standing disputes.  Both began arguing their views vociferously, yet seemed more
interested in competing for my ‘vote’ for their respective positions than in solving the disagreement.  After several minutes of multiplying words but engaging in little actual communication, the husband slumped forward dejectedly.  “We just can’t talk anymore,” he complained.

“Talking is the least of your problems,” I replied.  “Your problem is that neither of you seems interested in trying to understand the other.”

A critical ingredient of any successful relationship involves a desire to understand one another.  Unfortunately, among our many human frailties is our tendency to push forward our own agendas at all costs.  This is particularly true in family relationships or under intense circumstances, and results in people talking past one another rather than to each other.  Such interaction reveals that the weak link in communication is not the mouth but rather the ears, or more specifically, the heart.

Stephen Covey, author of The 7 Habits of Highly Successful People, lists heartfelt listening as one of his essential seven habits (Seek first to understand, then seek to be understood). He states “To relate effectively with a wife, a husband, children, friends, or working associates, we must learn to listen.  And this requires emotional strength.  Listening involves patience, openness, and the desire to understand – highly developed qualities of character.”

That such listening demands emotional maturity is clearly evident in cases of marital or parent-child discord.  I often ask people in troubled relationships to engage in an exercise referred to as “reflective listening.”  Their assignment is to take turns listening to each other, then demonstrate both verbally and non-verbally that they understand what has been said.  More often than not, individuals cannot complete the exercise without succumbing to the temptation to argue with the point just made.  Others can parrot back the words but show little empathic “put-myself-in-your-shoes” understanding.

Yes, it takes a considerable amount of emotional energy and restraint to censor the initial desire to become defensive or rebut a differing point of view.  The natural inclination is to defend oneself, afterwards launching a counterattack. While there is a time and place to assert one’s position, it is not here, for timing is critical.  To be contemplating a reply before the incoming message has been sent and assimilated is precisely what characterizes poor communication.

 
          A classic case in point is your friendly neighborhood chatterbox.  We’ve all met someone who, perhaps hungry for attention, displays an undisciplined penchant for mouth work but little ability to listen.  Such individuals struggle with give-and-take of conversation and instead engage in a running discourse about themselves, with occasional “interruptions” by the listener. Chatterboxes are forever “topping;” they’ve always got a story that will top what has just been shared.  Perplexing as it may seem, they seem to be able to relate to any experience you’ve ever had.  For such individuals, their challenge is not self-disclosure but rather self-closure.

Another situation in which less talking and more listening is warranted is when an acquaintance vents frustration about, say, lazy co-workers.  Likely, she is seeking support and understanding.  If instead she is given a dose of advice (“Did you try telling them…?” or “You ought to just…”) or must endure outrage on the part of the confidant (“Man, I wouldn’t put up with that for a minute!”), her frustrations are only liable to mount.  Likewise, showing a comprehension of and concern for a child’s plight will typically breed better results than offering an unsolicited lecture.

Steven M. Gentry, PhD., is a Child & Family Psychologist and the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

I conclude with a story, told by Stephen Covey, which illustrates how bonds of anguish can become bonds of love.  (I heard Mr. Covey tell this story on video; since I have no written version of the story, I take some license in telling it to the best of my recollection.)

Stephen Covey (S.C.) saw a friend of his on the street one day and asked him how things were going.  The man mentioned that all was well, except with his 16-year old son, whom the man described as insolent and rebellious.  After hearing details of the man’s struggles, S.C. invited the man to one of his seminars.

After one evening of the seminar, the man felt buoyed by the information and insights he’d gained, and he went home, intent on straightening things out with his boy.  He went down to his son’s bedroom and said, “Son, I’d like to talk with you.”

Glaring at his father, the boy responded, “We have nothing to talk about,” and he slammed the door behind him as he left the room.

“Just as I expected,” the man thought.  “He’s as ungrateful and disrespectful as I thought.”

When he next saw S.C., the man related the experience and said, “Your stuff might work for some, Stephen, but my boy’s impossible.”

S.C. complimented his friend on his efforts but said he sensed there were still things that weren’t quite right.  He invited him to another evening of the seminar.

Following his second experience, the man felt rejuvenated with things he had not learned from the first evening.  He went home committed to resolving things with his boy.

The man entered his son’s bedroom and repeated his wish to talk things out.

The 16-year old, in evident frustration, repeated his words, “I told you: we have nothing to talk about!”, again slamming the door to punctuate his point.

His head in his hands, the man heaved a big sigh and shook his head, half in sadness, half in disgust.

When he next saw S.C., the man confessed his inability to effectively engage his son in conversation.  Sensing the man’s helpless yet hopeful state, S.C. asked him to attend one more evening, that there were a few things that could yet help him.

Following the third evening, the man felt differently about his son.  He no longer viewed him as a thorn in his side, but as a son in need of a father.

He entered his son’s room and repeated his plea, “Son, could we please talk?”

As if catapulted by lightning, his son angrily lashed out, “Can’t you get it through your head?  I said I don’t want to talk!  There’s nothing to say!”  And with that, he whipped the door open to leave.

“Son, before you go, I just wanted you to know how sorry I am for embarrassing you in front of your friends the other night.”  The man sat there, more like a dad than a disciplinarian.

His son paused at the door, looked down and bitterly muttered, “Yeah, sure you are. You don’t know how mad that made me.”  His dad could see tears in his boy’s eyes, and he knew the emotion was more sad than mad.

“I’d like to know, to know how mad I made you,” his dad said quietly.

For the next several hours, dad and son talked.  In the wee early morning hours, mom peeked her head in the door and said, “Hey, isn’t it about time you guys got some sleep?”

Without hesitation the boy responded, “Not now, Mom. We need some more time.”  He turned to his father, “Dad, tell mom we’re talking about important things.”

 Bonds of Anguish or Bonds of Love?  In every single relationship, at any given moment, it’s up to you to decide. 

Steven M. Gentry, Ph.D. is a Child & Family Psychologist and the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

Where do you draw the line with a wayward, disobedient, rebellious child?  How do you respond when (s)he persistently defies the rules and expectations you’ve established?  To what extent is the rest of the family put on the “altar of sacrifice” while your out-of-control child calls the shots?

That these are tough questions is an understatement, as many parents well know.  Some of the most difficult parenting dilemmas stem from what I call “high maintenance” children, those who seem bent on charting their own course in life, regardless of what their parents may do or say.

To their credit, most parents try to work with their child: they set limits, correct and redirect, and do their best to use consequences to modify his/her behavior.  But what happens when a child refuses to accept correction or blithely ignores the consequences applied by his/her parents?

Not surprisingly, this problem is all too familiar to family counselors.  A mother of five recently confided her struggles with her son to me, saying she and her husband have done their best to raise their son, and have even consulted a number of parenting books, all to no avail.

“We vacillate between overlooking his rebelliousness and taking a firm stand.  We’re just not sure which is better.”  She noted that, a 16-year old, her son comes and goes as he pleases – they won’t see him for days on end, and then he’ll show up “long enough to earn money (from chores) and then he’s off again.”  Any effort to set limits only incites more rebellion.

Mental health professionals tend to take one of two stances with such family problems.  One approach is to suggest that parents put up with the child’s rebelliousness, the theory being that the challenges notwithstanding, the longer parents can have a positive influence upon a child, the better chance (s)he’ll have in life.  This was the mother’s leaning: “I figure the more I can influence him, the better off he’ll be.”

The other approach, widely known as “tough love,” involves taking a firm stand that allows the child to experience the consequences of his/her actions (it should be noted that, when used appropriately, tough love does not seek to sever a child from his/her family, does not involve abuse or neglect, and doesn’t mean parents are “giving up” on a child).  The tough love approach has gained a significant following and is a well-organized approach, with books written and support groups found in local communities across the country.

In my opinion, there is no single answer to deal with wayward youth.  Parents must carefully consider the circumstances of their child and family, then seek prudent counsel from friends, family, and perhaps professionals, as well as Providential guidance from above.  To say the least, it tends to be a gut-wrenching experience.

In my experience, active resolutions are preferable to passive ones.  All things being equal, I see “tough love” as a compassionate alternative for all involved when two conditions are met: 1) the child shows no interest in compromising, negotiating, or modifying his/her behavior and 2) other family members are repeatedly made to suffer as a direct result of his/her actions.

For instance, an adolescent who “rules the roost” by repeatedly demeaning his siblings or parents may need to be helped in finding another place to live.  Likewise, a child who refuses to cease dishonest or destructive acts in the home might learn to appreciate the things she takes for granted if made to live under different circumstances.

While some may find such “tough love” harsh and impossible to administer, I admit there is an alternative: more of the same.  And for some parents, living with the current agony – as bad as it may seem – may truly be tolerable to the anxiety and guilt they might face if they put their foot down.

Still, the question that lingers is: What’s in a wayward child’s (and don’t forget the other family members’) best interest?  While love is not indifference, neither is it indulgence.  Sometimes excommunication is the only hope for eventual renewal and reconciliation.  Sometimes love can hurt quite a bit.  It sure did for me when I watched my parents apply principles of “tough love” with my older sister a number of years ago.

In terms of the sources of such a child’s problems, there are too many to list, but I shall briefly mention two:  temperament and attitude.  Certain “difficult adolescents” were often described as “difficult youngsters” and, like certain brands of cars, are more likely to be “in the shop” more often than their siblings.  Moreover, the prevailing attitude among rebellious teens tends to be immature and selfish.  Far too many kids (and unfortunately, they grow into like-minded adults) confuse rights and privileges, considering most things in life “my right to have” or “my right to do”.

One right I do believe parents have is the right to expect their children to adhere to a minimum standard of behavior that incorporates principles of respect, obedience, and personal responsibility.  Likewise, children have a right to expect that their parents will live by and enforce such principles.

Families are not democracies where everyone has an equal voice; instead, families are more like a kingdom, staffed by a (hopefully) loving but firm King and/or Queen.  This, of course, does not place children in the category of serfs; rather, they are “blue collar” princes and princesses . . . whom we love, tickle, and chasten.

 Steven M. Gentry, PhD., is a Child & Family Psychologist and the Executive Director of

Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah

“My life stinks. Nobody deserves the life I’ve got.”  My teenage client sat there on the couch, eyes downcast, his face curled up in a scowl, and there was enough negativity in the room to drown us both.  He was, if nothing else, direct and to the point.

I asked him to explain himself, and he quickly pointed to academic frustrations, conflict with peers, and uncaring parents.  The further we proceeded the gloomier the picture became to him:  the canvas of life was etched in blacks and grays.  The further we proceeded, the clearer the picture became to me:  he funneled everything through a negative filter.

So I suggested we change the filter.  If, as he described it, his life was really so awful, I wanted to know how he’d like it to be different.  I wanted to know what made him happy.

We began our list slowly; my young client was having a hard time shifting out of his gloomy mode.  However, when I informed him that the record for the longest ‘happy list” was 47 items, he picked up momentum, stopping only after generating 63 items.  Among these were: “Having mom scratch my back…getting a compliment from Dad…12 noon on Sunday – that’s when church gets out…and when a cute girls says ‘hi’ to me.”  By now the boy was exerting considerable positive energy and he was (gasp!) smiling.

I pointed out that we had but scratched the surface, that there were many things he takes for granted that make him happy.  I pointed out his good health, his ability to speak and read, a warm coat on a cold day, and Mom’s rice crispy treats; he added that he also liked the first day of summer vacation, his parents getting along with each other, and surprises (like when you reach in your jacket and find a piece of candy you’d forgotten about).  Soon we had 100 items…we absolutely trashed the old record by a mile!

As we gazed at the board full of scribbling, I erased “What makes you happy” and replaced it with “Counting my blessings.”  I noted that, were anyone to walk in the room at that moment and see the list of good things in his life, they’d probably say, “I’ll take one of those lives, please.”

Looking on the bright side of life isn’t always easy, but then neither is living your life in a rut of negativity.  There are those of us who insist on painting life with a broad brush of complaining, self-pity, excuses, and accusations.  Sometimes the root of this is depression; other times it stems from difficult circumstances; some people’s negativity has become a way of life, borne out of years of habit; others use it to avoid intimacy and closeness with others.  Some people are negative simply because it provides justification for the way they live their lives.  It seems easier to them than taking responsibility and changing.

Each individual’s mental health is based largely on his perspective; perception is, as they say, reality.  While we cannot change our past, we can change our perception of it; though we can’t control all aspects of our present, we can control how we view it; granted, we don’t know our future, but we can anticipate and expect that things will go well.  Our own prophecies (expectations), no matter how small, do seem to fulfill themselves, for good or bad.

So count your many blessings.  Cultivate an attitude of gratitude.  Look on the bright side of life.  Sustain positive emotion by acknowledging the bounty you have rather than lamenting that everything isn’t perfect.  If offered a doughnut, resist complaining that someone has removed the middle.  Remember the Arabian proverb:  “I had no shoes and complained – until I met a man who had no feet.”

The fact is, my teenage client is probably right:  “Nobody deserves the life I’ve got.”  We’ve all got it much too good.  Consider living (or dying) in Honduras; consider starving in Africa; consider that in a worldwide context, our lifestyle is the exception rather than the rule.

Steven M. Gentry, Ph.D., is the Executive Director of Psychological Assessment & Treatment Specialists in American Fork, Utah