Today I want to share with you another adventure in what I call “the Dao of parenting.” As I’ve stated before, I’m a first-time parent raising a toddler (now almost 3 years old).
So I’m no expert on raising kids. I am, however, an expert on Buddhist moral practice, and that is relatively close to Daoism. And while I think Buddhism has abundant wisdom for living our lives, I’ve found myself gravitating to simple truths offered in Daoism as a dad.
The most basic premise of my Daoism can be encapsulated by the phrase, “Be like water.” Simply put, this means to be persistent and yet to go around obstacles as they arise. In raising my 2-year-old, I can first state with gratitude that obstacles aren’t common. They do, however, arise, and we’re seeing more and more as she nears 3 years of age.
A great reminder from Daoism is that we’re often not in control of the world. Like a torrent of water going down a gully, we cannot choose which obstacles will arise in front of us.
Being like water, we can, however, choose to skillfully maneuver around them. Over time, our skillful maneuvering also helps wear them down. Even giant boulders left in rivers long enough turn to sand.
This is as opposed to the idea that we need to try to control everything or destroy obstacles like a roving jack-hammer or a big-horned sheep smashing into its opponents. As these images suggest, such an attitude is exhausting and often leads to more headaches than progress.
From calm to crying in three seconds flat
The most recent example of learning to be a Daoist dad came just last night. Our kiddo loves raisins and at dinner we had Iraqi rice (similar to Indian biryani rice) with golden raisins in it. She began by picking out the raisins and asking for more of those. But as our raisin supply began to run low, my wife wisely told her that the raisins are meant to be a burst of sweetness eaten with the lightly spiced rice. This got our kiddo to eat a few bites of rice and raisins together, which she agreed was wonderful.
But then a meltdown happened.
Clearly pretty tired, our kiddo decided all she wanted to eat was pretzels. (Pretzels have become one of our go-to snacks of late.) But rather than ask in a calm, clear way, she whined it out in the way we all know 2-year-olds can whine. She went from calmly enjoying a delicious and complex meal to the verge of tears in what seemed like no time at all.
Impulse control
Claire Lerner LCSW-C recently offered an article on why punishment doesn’t solve problems in toddlers. In other words, trying to hit the problems head on simply doesn’t work. We need to think instead about compassionate ways to move around them. In her article, she points to the fact that toddlers are not able to control their impulses. They cannot yet rationally think about the impulses overtaking them, calm themselves, and calmly assert their needs.
At certain times, kiddos simply have breakdowns. Mind you, this wasn’t a major one. But it was a clear reminder that our often very mature and thoughtful kiddo is still a toddler.
If we expect our kids to be as calm and clear-minded as we (at least usually) are, we will run headlong into frustration. Then, not only will we have the difficulty of a tear-filled child, but also the headache that comes with trying to fix things in an unwise manner.
As Lerner points out, trying to confront impulse control problems in kids can actually make things much worse, both in the immediate and in the long term. This is because it adds a layer of shame and disconnection from the parent. The child knows that they’re upsetting the parent, but they also cannot control their behavior. This creates and internal “shut down” in the child as they grapple, and fail, with the situation.
Think with the goal in mind
As a parent, I want my child to learn and grow and be loved. Obviously, setting boundaries and teaching discipline are part of this process. But the middle of a meltdown (or impulse control failure) is rarely a good time to set boundaries or teach discipline. Instead, some boundaries should already be in place.
So as my daughter tears up asking for pretzels, we can let her know that pretzels are a snack-food, not a dinner-food. This she knows. But the meltdown continues. We can remind her that we need to eat a well-balanced meal and that eight raisins, four bites of rice, and a bowl of pretzels does not constitute a well-balanced meal. This too she knows. But the meltdown continues.
In the end, in this case it makes sense to give in (a little bit). The meltdown is not just about the pretzels. She is also exhausted. It’s midweek and she had a big weekend and now she just wants pretzels. A little empathy can go a long way. Seeing all of this makes it easier to give her a small bowl of pretzels as we think of our goals for the rest of the night.
And we can tell her all of this. A few pretzels is okay. But we’re going to have an early bedtime. And we’re going to try to eat some fruit or vegetables before bed. And she agrees, emerging slightly from the meltdown.
In the end, she eats a healthy meal. It’s just not exactly when we had planned, and that’s okay. She had her bedtime snack during her dinner, and that’s okay as well. As adults, we take a lot of liberties with getting what we want. We sometimes forget that as we try to steer our kids in the best possible directions. And perhaps that impulse to try to control our kids is just as much something that needs work as any of our kid’s meltdowns.
Justin Whitaker, Ph.D., holds a doctorate in Buddhist ethics from the University of London. He has given lectures, and taught Buddhist studies and Philosophy at Oxford University, the University of Hong Kong, the University of Montana, and at Antioch University’s intensive study-abroad program in India. A certified meditation teacher, he is a regular contributor to Patheos.com, and Senior Correspondent for Buddhistdoor Global. Justin is the official blog writer for Sunflower Counseling MT in Missoula, Butte, Kalispell, Billings, and surrounding areas. He lives in Missoula with his family.