The Raven Foundation

Do you have or know a child with an attention deficit disorder diagnosis? Then you are probably aware that the standard approach to diagnosing and treating A.D.D. is being seriously challenged by long term studies and neuroscientific discoveries. If you have been doing your best to cope with an A.D.D. child, this news may trigger a complicated range of emotions, everything from joy that there might be new hope for your child to anger, resentment, guilt or downright despair that by following the best medical advice of the last twenty years you may have harmed rather than helped your child. In spreading the news, it is not my intention to make anyone feel bad. That we have been misled is not our fault and fault-finding, while tempting in the short run to ease some personal pain, will not help your child. My hope for you and your child is that your undeniable willingness to do whatever it takes, including adjusting and adapting your own behavior, will enable you to listen with an open mind to the current discoveries and that you will find my parenting advice helpful. Here goes:

As a pre-school teacher in the late nineties, I had to deal with the standard approach to A.D.D. Over the years, a few of my students were in the process of being evaluated. Well-meaning parents, keen to give their children the best edge at early learning, eagerly embraced the diagnosis and drug treatment. But I wondered about the rush to diagnosis. Observing one parent at home with her young son, I couldn’t help but question the belief in genetic or born-with explanations. Believing that her child had trouble attending to the task at hand, I think it was playing with a set of blocks, she interrupted every few seconds with directions. It sounded like rapid gun fire to me.

See the big one? No not that one—the big one is blue. You know what blue is—you wanted to wear your blue shirt today. Look at your shirt. Look at your—don’t walk away. I want you to finish this. I know you can do it. Now sit down and see if you can find the big, blue one.

I felt my blood pressure rise as I listened to her relentless string of directives and I thought two things: no one could concentrate under those conditions, I don’t care how “normal” they were and her lack of confidence in her child broke my heart, and I am sure it wounded his. The big question that formed for me was this: Was this child truly born with an attention problem or was his parent’s behavior creating one in him? And if the latter, what good would a pill do?

The look-inside-the-child’s-brain-and-fix-it-with-a-pill approach to solving behavior problems is a symptom of a deeply held cultural conviction in the human being as a self-made, self-starting creature. The belief goes something like this: We are born with innate abilities and deficits, gifts and limits, that make us who we are. The job of concerned parents and educators is to correctly sort out what to encourage and what to fix and then to throw ourselves into the task with devotion as demonstrated by the barraging mother above. This conviction infects medicine, of course, as medicine is embedded in culture, not separate from it, and so medicine seeks to fix with its own brand of corrections. We have been operating under the self-made, self-starting picture of human beings for a good 500 years now, but this view is in the process of being overturned by theorists and experimental scientists and yielding exciting new ways to think about medicine, education and parenting.

In an article in the New York Times recently, L. Alan Sroufe, professor emeritus at the University of Minnesota’s Institute of Child Development, beautifully summarized the shift in thinking about A.D.D. that has occurred since the 1960s. From a theory of inborn dysfunction, the field has begun to recognize that “behavior and the brain are intertwined” and grow in a sort of feedback loop with one another. Behavior and environment influence and actually shape the physical brain. Prof. Sroufe says it this way: “One of the most profound findings in behavioral neuroscience in recent years has been the clear evidence that the developing brain is shaped by experience.” Or as René Girard, cultural theorist and founder of mimetic theory might say, we are not individuals at all but at every level and fiber of our being, we are inter-dividual, social creatures who when left alone as infants fail to thrive and even die. Just the opposite of independent self-starters, human beings develop under the influence of others, our community and culture. Are we born with particular bodies, unique genetics and predispositions? Of course we are, but that is not the limit of our becoming, in fact it is more like a cupboard of ingredients that can be shaped into different dishes by different environmental factors. It is also true that our particularities at birth will shape our response to the environments, but the critical discovery is the profound interaction of biology with environment that is the creative force in human development.

You may be surprised to know that this understanding of human development is not new, but rather has been part of the minority report operating below the surface. As a Montessori educator I learned that as early as 1903, Dr. Maria Montessori was teaching that the absolute worst thing one could do with children is to interrupt their play, or “work” as she called it. These interruptions interfere with a child’s normal attention pattern by imposing our will upon him. Today this is a common problem where busy lifestyles, the need to get to work, daycare, or other appointments forces the child into adapting to adult patterns of behavior.

Here is how Montessori described it in her medical textbook from the early 1900s:

Often what we call naughtiness on the part of the individual child is rebellion against our own mistakes in educating him. The coercive means which we adopt toward children are what   destroy their natural tranquility. A healthy child, in his moments of freedom, succeeds in escaping from the toys inflicted upon him by his parents, and in securing some object which arouses the investigating instinct of his mind; a worm, an insect, some pebbles, etc.; he is silent, tranquil and attentive. If the child is not well, or if his mother obliges him to remain seated in a chair, playing with a doll, he becomes restless, cries, or gives way to convulsive outbursts (“bad temper”). The mother believes that educating her child means forcing him to do what is pleasing to her, however far she may be from knowing what the child’s real needs are, and unfortunately we must make the same statement regarding the school-teachers! Then, in order to make him yield to coercion, she punishes the child when he rebels and rewards him when he is obedient. By this method we drive a child by force along paths that are not natural to him. (emphasis in the original)

I do admire her boldness – she is really unconcerned if she is hurting the feelings of well-meaning parents because her first and foremost concern is with the child. It is a wonderful example to imitate. Prof. Sroufe, also putting the child’s developmental needs first, pointed out that behavior problems in children have “many possible sources. Among them are family stresses.” He lists a few obvious stressors like domestic violence or chaotic living situations, but the one that interested me was this:

…especially, patterns of parental intrusiveness that involve stimulation for which the baby is not prepared. For example, a 6-month-old baby is playing, and the parent picks it up quickly from behind and plunges it in the bath. Or a 3-year-old is becoming frustrated solving a problem, and a parent taunts or ridicules.

The mother I described at the opening may not have thought of her directives as taunting, but I wonder if her child would agree. Someone who hovers over you and persistently focuses your attention on what you are doing wrong may indeed be described as engaging in ridicule. Now, if you have read this far, you are surely following in Montessori’s footsteps by doggedly putting your desire to help your child ahead of your instinctive need to avoid feeling hurt, guilty or whatever. Allow me to conclude with some easy to implement parenting tips to support a child’s natural development.

1.  
   1. When you see a child engaged in play or concentrating on seemingly trivial things like specks of dust or his own hand, think: “Einstein at work”. If you had to interrupt Einstein, you would do it in a spirit of humility and regret, wouldn’t you? That is the same attitude to take when you need to interrupt your child.
   2. Young children are notoriously bad at transitions, but easily coaxed into them with sufficient warning. Let’s use the example of transitioning from play time to dinner time. While the children are playing, slowly squat near them and in a quiet voice say, “Five minutes until it’s time to wash our hands for dinner.” Then walk away. Of course, the 5 minutes means nothing to them and be as short or long as you need it to be. But in a few minutes more, repeat your warning in a quiet voice, “3 minutes till dinner. It will be time to put your toys away and wash your hands.” Then give a one minute warning and finally, “It’s dinner time. Let’s put our toys away and wash up.”
   3. If your child balks at the moment of transition, don’t get into a power struggle. Just ask, “What did my words say?” Not “What did I say,” but precisely, “What did my words say?” Your child will think for a second and then repeat some version of “It’s time for dinner”. You will just shrug as if it is a shame for you, too, that we have to go to dinner, sharing in your child’s experience at that moment. Then off you go together, putting toys away and washing up as a team.

That’s it, three easy steps! It is hard to underestimate how vitally important this style of parenting can be to the formation of a healthy pattern of attention. As Dr. Montessori put it over one hundred years ago, “We cannot know the consequences of suffocating a spontaneous action at the time when the child is just beginning to be active: perhaps we suffocate life itself.” Too dramatic? Maybe, but maybe not. The beauty of it all is that to support life itself may be as easy as one, two, three.

The Wife left.  She left and I was all alone … with our two Boys …

NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Okay.  They might look like angels in their Christmas shirt and tie, but you know there’s gonna be trouble whenever a Dad (especially this Dad) is left with his two Boys.

The Wife had to leave early this morning for a business trip.  She was out the door by 7:15 with hugs, kisses, and goodbyes.  Then the door shut.  I walked to the kitchen and peered through the window as She slowly backed the Odyssey out of our driveway.  Our eyes met and we waved.  She then drove off.  I took a sip of coffee and a deep breath to prepare myself for my morning’s fate.

The Wife is my model for good parenting.  She gets how it all works.  I can be pretty dense, but usually after three or four, okay, usually ten times of observing her amazing parenting skills, they begin to sink in.  For example, I’ve learned from observing her that transitions are often easier if the Boys know what to expect.  They’re not so good with surprises.  (Frankly, neither am I.  I get frustrated whenever someone obstructs my plans with something unexpected.  Like that time when my car got in that accident and obstructed my evening plans.  But that’s another story.)  “Okay, Boys,” she’ll say as we’re driving in the car.  “We’re going to the store, then to the children’s museum, then home for lunch, and then we’re going to take naps.”

I love naps.

So I decided to give it a try.  The Boys were watching “Mickey Mouse Funhouse” in our basement. (Btw, did you know that Pete, the big giant cat, is no longer a bad guy?  Yeah.  They’re all friends.  They work together to solve problems.  Since Boy 1 arrived five years ago, I’ve discovered that they don’t make cartoons like they used to.) We walked down to the basement and I gave Boy 1 and Boy 2 our morning game plan: “Okay Fellas.  Here’s what’s going to happen.  I’m going to shower.  Then I’m going to get dressed.  Then I’ll help you get dressed.  Then I’m going to brush my teeth.  Then we’ll put on shoes and jackets, and then we’re going to school.  Got it?”

Okay.  This strategy works really well, unless you completely FAIL, which I did.   There is such a thing as was too much detail for children age 5 and 3.  Boy 1 looked me in the eyes and nodded.  Boy 2 gazed off into distant space, but he nodded too.  He usually lives in his own little Boy 2 world, so I decided his nod was good enough.  I went upstairs, leaving them with their temporary babysitters, Mickey and Pete.

I did everything in order, careful not to make any surprises.  Quick shower, got dressed, got them dressed, brushed my teeth, and then told them it was time to go to the living room to put on our shoes and jackets.  Boy 1 went without a hitch.  Boy 2 apparently wanted to stay in Boy 2 world with Mickey and Pete.

“NO!” he yelled.

I thought to myself, “Ahh, man.  Where’s the Wife?”  But I stayed calm and remembered another one of the Wife’s tricks.  She acknowledges their emotions.   It works.  When children (and adults) are able to name their negative emotions, it gives them a sense of empowerment with them.  You can’t deal with emotions that you can’t name.  And another point about emotions: most of us like to have our emotions acknowledged by others.  It gives us a sense self-worth and builds a sense of connection.   Having someone compassionately acknowledge our frustrations usually helps calm us down.

“Okay, Boy 2.  I see you are sad.  Are you sad?”

“NO!” he yelled

Wait!  Why wasn’t this working?  It always works when the Wife does it.  So, I tried again.  “Oh.  Are you mad?”

“NO!”

“Well, Boy 2,” I replied.  “It’s time to go to school and I’m going to be late for work if we don’t start leaving.  I see that you don’t want to go.  I acknowledge that.  But we need to go.”

He continued to refuse, so I decided to give him options.  (Another trick I learned from the Wife.  Options make children feel like they have some power in a situation.  Giving options to children [and to adults] can diffuse a power struggle.  Unless you’re already knee-deep in one.  Then you’re pretty much screwed, as I was here.)  “Boy 2.  We need to go.  Are you going to walk upstairs and put your shoes and jacket on, or do I need to carry you?”

“NO!”

He screamed and kicked as I carried him up the stairs, through our kitchen, and into our living room.  I put him down to help Boy 1 with his shoes.  As I sat there tying the laces, Boy 2 decided he wanted to play tag, so he ran behind the coffee table.

“You can’t catch me.  You can’t catch me.”  He was mocking me.

And I was getting pretty frustrated!  “Boy 2,” I said as calmly as I could.  “I need to put your shoes on you.”  Remembering that options are good, I said, “Would you like your ‘fast shoes’ or your ‘slow shoes’?”

^{Fast shoes and slow shoes.}

“NO!”  (Didn’t see that one coming, did you?)

“Okay,” I responded.  “If you don’t pick, I’ll pick for you.”

“NO!”

I picked the slow shoes, because they don’t have laces, but he continued to run around the table.  After a bit of chasing, I caught him.  There was no use putting his shoes on him, he would just kick them off.  I was getting late for work, so I picked him up and carried him to the car.  As he kicked and screamed, I opened the door, put him in his car seat, and buckled him in.

I backed out of our driveway and Boy 2 screamed, “I WANT MY FAST SHOES!!!!!”

I stopped the car, looked back at Boy 2, and replied, “Boy 2.  Are you sad that you don’t have your fast shoes?”

“YES!!!!”

“Okay.  I gave you the options of wearing your fast shoes or your slow shoes.  I told you that if you didn’t pick, I’d pick for you.  You didn’t pick, so I picked your slow shoes.”

Whimper.  It was a whimper.  Not a yell.  A whimper isn’t good, but it’s better than an ear piercing “NO!”

“Boy 2,” I said.  “I see that you’re sad.  But next time you can pick your fast shoes.  Okay?”

“Okay.”

“NICE!!!!”  I said to myself.

He was pretty quiet as we continued on to school.  He whimpered a few more times.  Each time I replied, “I’m sorry you’re sad, Boy 2.”  Soon we arrived in the school parking lot.  As Boy 1 hopped out his door and as I unbuckled Boy 2 and took him in my arms to set him on the pavement, he completely forgot that he was sad.  He moved on to another emotion – excitement.  I followed them as they raced into school, then gave them hugs and kisses.  I smiled as I realized that I failed.  That I didn’t control Boy 2 with my various strategies.  I couldn't avoid the power struggle.  I failed - and that’s okay.  Failure is part of the long journey called “Parenting.”

You can’t always avoid a power struggle.  But you can stay composed and calmly go through them with your child.  The alternative only escalates the frustrations of power struggles.  A parent’s ability to stay tranquil through power struggles in the only possible way of diffusing the situation.  And, by staying calm, you begin to model and teach your child how to remain composed during their power struggles and conflicts with others.

Parenting is a difficult path that is full of failure.  It’s hard to stay calm.  But on this journey, remember that failure is okay, indeed, it's inevitable, and then seek to forgive yourself.   For failure is part of the journey.

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This video is for parents looking for a positive way to connect Santa Claus to the Christmas story. If your child is young enough to believe in Santa Claus this video will help you handle Santa's naughty or nice list and your child's Christmas present wish list. Santa can be a wonderful example of what the love and joy of Christmas is all about.

The Christmas season is upon us and so is that classic parenting problem: the temper tantrum in the toy aisle of Walmart.  You know the scene: you are rushing to buy gifts for your nieces and nephews and your child decides he has to have some toy or other right now or he will die. Of course you say “no” – you are a smart parent who knows well enough that children aren’t the best judges of what they need, but your child is not going to take “no” for an answer. You explain, distract, offer him his favorite stuffed animal, all to no avail. Your child will not be soothed and you feel the eyes of judgment focused mercilessly on you as other parents with their well-behaved children coldly steer around you. To end the humiliation, you give in and buy the toy. We all know what happens next, don’t we? Maybe the next day, or maybe when you get home, maybe as soon as your darling is buckled into his car seat, the must-have-or-I-will-die toy loses its fascination and you begin to metaphorically kick yourself for being a failure as a parent.

Okay, not a pretty picture, but all parents have been there and there’s no point in beating ourselves up about it. Stuff happens. So let’s take a more constructive look at this scene and ask the big question: What is going on with this child? Why all the drama for the toy? If we understand desire as springing from within us then the toy actually does represent something that he truly, desperately, inconsolably wants. Despite being aware that advertisements geared toward children have a strong influence on their desires, that kids want what their friends and older siblings have, we still default to a deeper belief that a child’s desires arise from within his little self. But if that picture of desire is true, how do we explain how quickly the desire fades away? We might say that it faded as quickly as it arose, but that still begs the question of where it came from in the first place. If the desire is an intrinsic part of the child’s self, then it should have a bit more staying power, shouldn’t it?

A closer look at the temper tantrum reveals that what is on display is not passion for the toy – it is a display of passion itself. What your child is demonstrating is the power of his desiring muscles. They are intensely, immensely strong in children and when they get attached to an object, that object is elevated to a position of incredible value by the power of the desire itself. Unfortunately for you, your child’s desire just happened to latch on to this random object in the toy aisle, but let’s be clear: the object doesn’t matter. Remember the old Clinton presidential campaign slogan “It’s the economy, stupid”? That was a great slogan to keep the campaign from getting distracted by things that didn’t matter. Well, in our scenario the toy is the distraction and understanding desire is the key to a successful (parenting) campaign.

So here’s what I suggest: First, keep your sense of humor. The child flailing around in the toy aisle with sobs that rival Rachel weeping for her children is a total hoot! No one should fall for the drama, and believe me when I tell you, your child doesn’t believe it either. That is unless you give in. If you do, you send the message that he was right, the toy WAS necessary for life because if it wasn’t you wouldn’t have given in, right? You are the adult and are supposed to know better. So what do you think it does to his trust in you when his desire fizzles? A few incidents don’t cause much harm, but if you repeat a pattern over time of reinforcing the child’s sense that the object matters, then he will learn to seek fulfillment through possession of objects. And learn it he will because desire itself doesn’t learn. No amount of fizzled fascination will ever teach desire that the object wasn’t all that important. Desire just desires endlessly. Learning what to do with our desire, when to trust it and when to discipline it; when to follow its lead and when to deny its provocations – that’s what growing up is all about and that’s what parents are supposed to teach their children.

So the next time this happens to you – and it will – have a good laugh right there in Walmart. Treat that temper tantrum like the really funny game of dress up that it is. Because the truth is your child is trying on a desire that doesn’t fit very well and makes him look a little ridiculous, so be sure you get the joke. That will release a lot of tension and may be enough to diffuse the tantrum. If your little imp has whipped himself up into such a frenzy that he doesn’t notice your shift in attitude, well, you may have to put off your Walmart shopping spree and exit the store for now. Be consoled that you will be leaving with a healthier parent-child bond, and that’s something even Walmart doesn’t stock on its shelves.

“Why are you fighting?” I asked as I ran into their room.

The Youngest replied, “He not sharing!”

The Oldest exclaimed, “I had it first!”

“Why do you want it?” I asked the Youngest.

“Because he has it!”

Silly, isn’t it?  They just woke up and already were in a fight.  This time it was over the tiny Batman toy shown above.  I’ll be honest with you – I’ve seen a lot of toys in my 32 years, and this is one of the most BORING toys I have ever seen.  I mean, you can’t move his head, arms, or legs.  Batman just stands there.  I don’t get it.  In a room full of Superheroes and Transformers, Legos and Playmobil, what’s the fascination with this Batman figure?  To make the fight even sillier, we have two more Batmans that are exactly the same.  So, I did the rational Dad thing: I gave one of the other Batmans to the Youngest – at which point he threw it at my face.

(Okay.  Maybe it wasn’t directly at my face, but it was close.)

How is it that the boring Batman action hero became sacred?  The Youngest knows why: “Because he has it!”  There is nothing inherently desirable about that toy – except that the Oldest possessed it.  And this is how desire works.  We desire certain things because another desired that thing first.  This is the way human desire works, from children to adults.  As the anthropologist Rene Girard has pointed out, humans have “an irresistible desire to desire what others desire” (Deceit, Desire and the Novel, 12.)

This key to understanding human desire is counter-intuitive to our modern world.  Our modern world idolizes our individuality.  It tells you that your desire starts and ends with you.  You came up with it and you need to fulfill it.  It’s all about You.  You are your own man!  In fact …

You are the MAN!!!!  (Or the WOMAN!!!  You know, depending.)

But, and I really hate to break this to you, it’s really not about you.  And it’s definitely not about Batman, the perfect house, car, or job.  It’s about relationships.  (Which for this introvert, that’s hard to admit.)  No one exists as an individual.  Rather, the key to understanding desire is that we exist as inter-dividuals.  Our desire for objects is given to us by others, who desired them first.  And you can see how our shared desires can easily lead all of us, from children to adults, into conflicts.

So, you’re probably wondering how I solved the Batman issue.  The important thing that I’ve learned is that our desires need to be redirected to something positive, deep, and meaningful.  So that’s what I tried to do.

“Who wants breakfast?”

It worked.  It was simple.  And, I’ll be honest, I was hungry.

Parenting is kind of like blogging.  You never know if you are doing it right.

You try.  And you learn.  And you try again.

We had an wonderful Easter at the Ericksen household.  We went to church.  (Wisdom says a youth pastor shouldn’t play hookie on Easter.)  We all got dressed up.  My Wife and I figure we have a few years of dressing our Boys this way.  Soon, they will refuse to dress up as “twins” as they will inevitably assert their “individuality.”

Of course, I hope that they find their individual passions.  But, more than that, I hope that they will discover that they will never really be “individuals” in our common use or the word.  Rather, I hope they will discover that they are “inter-dividual.”  Their identity is formed by each other.  At a most basic level, they are brothers, and for them to remain brothers, they are dependent on each other.

For the most part, they are very good to each other.  When one is upset, the other will try to console him.  It’s cute, especially because neither can pronounce his brother’s name quite right.  The youngest has trouble with “r” and pronounces it as a “w.”  The elder has problems with “g” and pronounces it as a “d.”  That’s adorable.

Of course, their identity is not only formed by each other, but they are also formed by their parents.  Which is a scary thing, when my Wife and I stop to think about it.  Parenting is tricky business.  We never know if we are doing it right.  (What is “right” anyway?)  Are we allowing them to watch too much T.V.?  Is “time-out” a bad idea?  What will others think of us if we can’t control them?

That last one really gets me.  I’m always worried about what others will think of my parenting abilities.  I fall into the trap of thinking my children are a reflection upon me.  So, on Sunday, we sat in the last pew of our church sanctuary, just in case our boys got rowdy and we needed to make a quick exit.

^{Trouble's a commin'!}

I’m beginning to realize that my anxiety about getting it "right" affects (or rather, infects) my children.  They soak it in.  My anxiety makes them anxious, and our shared anxiety needs an outlet. The first time they said something on Sunday morning I “shushed” them with great vigor.  That, of course, didn’t help.  So, we tried to distract them with suckers and toys.  That worked better, but it was noisy.  So noisy that I thought people in the front of the church would be distracted by our boisterous children.  I feared that we would at least get dirty looks from the people around us, but none came.  Only friendly glances with smiling faces.  A cynic might think they were smiles of contempt, but they weren’t.  They were smiles of joy and welcome. 

That’s what the church should be.  A place of joy and welcome.  So much of our world wants to marginalize young families – so we infect one another with dirty looks at restaurants, on airplanes, and in supermarkets.  So we parents make up rules for our children and we “shush” them. We threaten them with “time-outs” and loss of certain privileges.  Unfortunately, all of that has a harmful effect. Children soak up that negativity.  Indeed, we all soak up the negativity thrown our way and pass it along to others.  It’s infectious.  And, as a parent, I know how easy it is to emphasize the negative as opposed to the positive.  That’s why we need friendly glances with smiling faces.  I need to remind myself that people aren’t critiquing my parenting ability.  And if they do, it’s more about them than it is about me.  99% of my anxiety is unnecessary, and the remaining 1% is probably unnecessary, too.  That 1% just makes the situation worse.

Which is why I’m glad that on Easter the church reminded me of grace.  It reminded me that we don’t have to do it “right.”  It reminded me that what the world needs is a good kind of infection.  The infection of friendly glances with smiling faces. 

It started a few months ago.  Our eldest son came home from daycare saying some very strange words.  That little four year old came home saying words like Optimus Prime, Megatron, and (okay, this isn’t so strange) Bumblebee.  My wife and I were left to wonder, “Where did he learn to say those words?”

Of course, daycare was to blame.

Our son’s best friend loves Transformers.  He brings his Transformers to school where he and our son play with them – a lot.  In fact, Transformers are their favorite toys.

(Who, btw, was the genius who thought of Transformers?  And how did he make that sales pitch?  “C’mon guys!  Trucks and cars that change into robots coming to earth from outer space!  It’ll work!!!)

I later asked his dad about Transformers.  He very proudly told me that he saved all of his Transformers from his childhood and that he is now passing them along to his sons. 

Well, his son passed along the joy of Transformers to my son.

And that’s how human desire works.  We borrow desires from one another.  My son had never heard of Transformers before his buddy brought them to school.  And now he loves them.

So, we bought our son a green Transformer for Christmas.  Why a green one?  It was cheap.  We went on a family vacation last weekend and bought him Optimus Prime.  He loves it.  Of course, on the drive home every two minutes he asked me to change it back into a truck.  Ugh. 

This morning, though, we had a bit of what my wife and I like to call a “meltdown.”  It started with our son asking his mother if they could go to the store and buy Bumblebee.  “No” was the response.

Uh-oh.

After that, my Wife had to get ready for work.  So, I was left to deal with a screaming child.  I tried to be rational.  “Why are you upset?” I asked.  “Mommy said no!”  He responded.  “Well, you can’t always get what you want.”  I love that song, and invoke it frequently, but, unfortunately, this time it didn’t work.  “NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  And he went off screaming and crying.

Parenting FAIL.

Well, as he became increasingly emotional, so did I.  I became frustrated.  I needed to get him and his brother dressed, but it was impossible.  I couldn’t control his wiggly body.  He didn’t want to get dressed, so he pushed me away, which only frustrated me more.  I took a deep breath and walked away.

Because, there’s no winning a power struggle with a four-year old.

As I look back upon the incident, I realize that the same principle of desire works with emotions.  We borrow desires from one another, but we also borrow emotions from one another.  I borrowed my son’s frustration and our mutual frustration escalated.  We were trapped.

Borrowed desire can make us all feel like a four year old. 

He pushed me away, and was completely right to do so.  We both needed some alone time.

Fortunately, my wife soon came to the rescue.  She calmed us both down.  Her presence was soothing.  She told our son that if he saved up his money, he could soon buy Bumblebee.  That was enough to calm him down.  She told me I did the right thing by walking away.

My son and I are lucky because my wife is good at creating alternatives.  We got trapped in an escalating situation and needed to be shown another way.  She was able to transform (I couldn't resist) the situation by modeling a calming presence, which was a presence my son and I could both borrow.   

Yeah.  That’s good parenting.  That’s my wife.

This morning it was the penguin.

It could just as easily have been the bear, the dog, the giraffe, or even the man dressed in blue pajamas who is missing his red cape.  But this morning it was the hand puppet penguin.

I have two boys, ages four and two.  They are adorable little tykes (which they clearly get from their Mother), but sometimes they fight.  As children do.

“I want penguin!” shouted our youngest.  (Part of what makes him adorable is that he isn’t quite speaking in full sentences yet.  That’s cute.)

“I had it first!” retorted his older brother.

Of course, our house is F.A.O. Schwartz on steroids.  Toys are everywhere: We have stuffed animals, Hot Wheels, Playmobils, and even a roller coaster in our basement.  (Seriously.  I ride it frequently.)  “Are you kidding me?”  I began to wonder.  “Why are you fighting over a stupid hand puppet penguin when we have a freakin roller coaster in our basement?”

I tried all the parental tricks I know.  Distraction.  Reasoning.  Sharing. None of it worked.  Why?

Here’s the thing: It wasn’t about the penguin.  The only reason our younger son wanted the penguin was because our older son had it.  His possession of the toy made that toy desirable – more desirable than any other toy.  But it was about our older son – his possession of the penguin.  So, they got in a power struggle over possessing a penguin.  Seems pretty irrational, huh?  Especially when you consider that there is a roller coaster in our basement!

It may seem irrational, but it is human.  As Rene Girard wrote in his book Deceit, Desire and the Novel, humans “desire according to Another” (4, italics in original).  So, our youngest son was desiring according to the desire of his older brother.  This created a cycle that went like this: the more our older son wanted to keep the penguin, the more our younger son wanted the penguin.  The more our younger son wanted the penguin, the more our older son wanted to keep the penguin.   That cycle of desire is natural, as is the unfortunate conflict that ensues.

It is easy to see how this mechanism works in children, but the truth is that adults fall into the same traps.  I’ve heard that married couples sometimes fight like this.  But, for me, the most obvious example is in our politics.  When we pick a political side of the spectrum, we often fall into the trap of trying to grasp political power from the other person or party.  Politics becomes our stupid penguin.  But again, it’s not about the penguin; it’s about possessing what the other has.  Sure.  Ideally, politics is about finding ways to do what’s best for citizens of a country.  Unfortunately, we so often use politics as a means to exert our political will.  It becomes a game of winners and losers, of possessing power, as opposed to doing what’s best for a country.  Yes, yes.  We have some different ideas about what is best for the country, but our ideas are mired in our shared desire to win the political power game.

So, what’s the solution?  I don’t know.  When my boys were fighting over the penguin, I asked our older son to look at his brother’s face and tell me what he saw.  Well, he ran off crying and I felt like the world’s worst Dad.  But, now that I’ve had a few hours to reflect about that, it seems to me he ran off crying because in that moment he empathized with his brother.  He moved into his brother’s place.  He felt his brother’s humanity.  And that’s an intense experience.  When we are able to have that experience with a family member (or a political opponent) to run off crying is an appropriate response.

I’m gonna go ride the roller coaster.