Children with negative thoughts about themselves are especially upsetting to meet, not to mention that, as parents, it breaks our hearts if we hear our child say things like ‘I’m an idiot’, ‘No wonder everyone hates me, I’m horrible’, ‘I’m just a hopeless person’. Alas, we live in societies that make this all too common. The pressure to succeed with peers, to be popular, has never been greater. The means for achieving this – be it exam success, looking good, sporting prowess – so easily become vehicles for misery rather than the outlets for pleasure and satisfaction that they could be.
Of course, thank goodness, most children are spared these feelings before puberty, although horrifyingly high proportions suffer them in adolescence, especially girls. A host of things can go wrong in families and make a child more vulnerable. Feeling unloved when a sibling comes along, becoming the victim of bullying at school, neglect or hostility during the early years, feeling over-controlled by zealous parents: there are all sorts of possibilities. But perhaps the commonest is witnessing parental disharmony. Children are very prone to blame themselves if parents row a lot, and the example in this chapter illustrates how effective Love Bombing can be in reversing that misery.
Tim, aged 9, has a sophisticated, clever, 12-year-old sister, Tanya, and a much younger brother, Gerry, aged 2. His mother, Marianne, is a hard-working, successful professional, as is his Dad, John.
In this case, over a two-year period I received reports on progress from Marianne, as well as some reports from Tim himself.
Marianne’s initial email to me set out the situation with some clarity.
I am writing for perhaps some brief but pertinent advice with regard to my 9-year-old son. He’s lovely, incredibly sweet and charming but seems to not like himself and has no focus. He has a 12-year-old, academically capable, sister – also very capable at knowing how to wind him up. We sometimes don’t even notice what she’s done, only his extreme over-reaction, which is becoming increasingly violent. He also has a 2-year-old brother whose arrival deeply undermined Tim’s position as the youngest and only boy. Although Tim does love him, the little one is rather nervous of what Tim might do next.
I’m afraid that I am in the process of F***ing him up. Tim constantly says that he hates himself, wants to die, he’s rubbish at everything, and I don’t know how to ‘turn this off’!
He is as bright as his sister but doesn’t believe that he is, explodes at the mention of homework and reacts negatively to most suggestions.
I’m not at my tether’s end yet, but I don’t want to wait until I get there. I’m worried that I will have an unruly and unhappy teenager that I cannot help later on. I largely agree with you that the nurture parameter is the far more powerful one, but we can’t see what we’re doing wrong at the moment. We do both work full-time (and the rest), particularly for the past year or so, when work has been demanding.
Marianne was not despairing, but she felt unsure how she could manage matters so that Tim would move into a less negative and aggressive state. She continued as follows:
I can vaguely see how one might change a child’s view of the world and himself. It’s also easy to see from Tim that when he receives individual attention, his behaviour (which I probably make sound worse than it actually is) improves drastically. It’s seeing how we can fit it into an “Affluenza” world [this is a reference to a book I had written suggesting that we have become overly concerned with the pursuit of money, possessions, appearances and fame]. I don’t mean that we are obsessed with the pursuit of wealth, but we have no choice but to work the hours that we do, at the expense of time with the children. In the same way your father believed in you and your education, we would like to do the same for our kids. I don’t believe that your parents’ investment has been wasted!
Tim saw my initial email to you and seemed rather pleased about it. My email to you today coincides with the imminent death of my father: he is very “poorly” (the word the doctors are using, would you believe!). It is making us consider how we’re handling our lives and the time we spend with each other and the children. This is no surprise, I suppose. As my father leaves, it is memories of time spent with him (and it’s the better times rather than the difficult ones that come to mind) that are resonating now. So, for Tim – and for Tanya and Gerry – I would like to give better tools for life and good experiences to fall back on.
Since she and her husband were affluent professionals, Marianne could easily afford to take Tim away for a weekend at a hotel. This is her account of the experience, one week later:
We were both a bit nervous before leaving on Friday evening. Tim had intimated to our nanny that he wasn’t sure what we would do together, and I was wondering whether I should take a book or not! When we arrived at the hotel, Tim thought it was the best place ever (we asked for a chocolate fountain in our room!) and we went out for dinner together. Tim tried food he wouldn’t normally try (mussels on Saturday! spat them out, but he still tried). We watched TV after dinner and on the Saturday began the ‘Can I have this?’. I had thought about trying to call you and ask as to the exact extent of saying yes to everything but decided to just go with the flow.
It started with wanting three pairs of sunglasses (a fiver each only) from a very odd shop (Halloween stuff/people into S&M, maybe fancy dress) that Tim declared was the best shop ever. It was followed by wanting sweets, but, for a sweetie addict, nowhere near as much as I expected: if anything, it was decidedly less than he would usually have at the weekend. We then went clothes shopping for Tim, and whilst he probably selected more items than he normally would have done, they were all great and he needed some new tops anyway. I did want to get some things for the other children. When I mentioned that in fact this was his weekend, he latched onto that and didn’t really want me to look for a coat for Tanya. I did concede. We went for lunch, after which I was tired, but he wanted to go to the Oceanarium, which I think I enjoyed more than any of the other kids there! It was great fun, and we bought all kinds of rubbish in the gift shop (this time, for his siblings too).
It made Tim feel very special; it definitely worked. It was better us going away rather than staying at home and the others going off. I realize not everyone could afford that. To be honest, he was reasonable about absolutely everything. You could see him setting himself limits, ‘I don’t need this extra one’.
There was more shopping and walking around. I had thought that Tim would enjoy walking along the beach, but we have different ideas about how to enjoy it. I realized that I like just walking on the sand, but it’s no fun for Tim if he’s not in a swimsuit making sandcastles. Curiously, he didn’t want to try anything that seemed dangerous. There’s a stationary hot-air balloon and one of those bungee-jumping things, but neither was of interest to him.
I think I finally only hinted that some self-control was needed when we were in a shop where Warhammer games can be quite expensive, so Tim was moderate in his choice there! We had been walking around from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
We went back to the hotel and got some KFC, watched The X Factor and went to bed quite late. On Sunday we pottered around again, did some shopping and decided to go to a zoo on the way back. We got a bit lost (our sat nav decided not to help us), but after that Tim was quite keen to come home.
Tim spent a great deal of time cuddling up to me and telling me how much he loved me (always reciprocated). It was interesting for me not to be in charge. I’m not terribly dictatorial if I take the others out, but I do tend to lead or move them onto the next thing. Here, it really was mostly Tim’s decision what we did next, what we ate, what we watched and what he bought. Even with the clothes, I would normally tend to guide him, and this time I didn’t unless he asked, and, rather than making him choose, we got all the ones he liked.
Marianne found the Top-Up hard to implement. If she was home on time, then there was a lot to do; if late, it was too close to their bedtime and she felt too tired. In the first week, they compromised with 15 minutes on the Thursday and not at all on the Friday.
Marianne reported that ‘The truth is, both Tim and I loved the experience. I really loved spending time with him and getting to know him. Oddly enough, we both seem to “hear” each other better: I mean, I don’t have to repeat myself as often and I am more attuned to his requests. So far we haven’t had any major unhappiness from Tim.’ He has had one explosion since the weekend, when Marianne asked him to do his homework, but it was much milder than usual. Marianne records that ‘There was no self-loathing (just doesn’t want to do the homework), and I stayed calm, so the whole thing passed very quickly. Although he’s still being very annoying about homework, he hasn’t directed that at himself, and it seems mostly a “controlled explosion”. Let’s see!!!’
Marianne also noticed that ‘Once you have more than one child, you never spend that much time alone with each of them. It’s an extraordinary thought that your children will rarely get that much of you until they’re an adult! It is obvious, I guess, but the oddness of it had never struck me before. I really enjoyed Tim’s company once I had released the thought that we need to discuss the “important” things: his behaviour and his attitude to homework (mostly the 11+ stuff I’m making him do).’
Marianne sent me an update:
The Love Bombing weekend was great, but I was not very good at providing the half-hour a night that you suggested. I think that by definition, the mother who ‘causes’ the requirement for Love Bombing her 10-year-old cannot give him her undivided attention for half an hour every day even if it is just for two weeks, and especially not in a recession and with two other kids and having taken him away, creating a new level of jealousy with his sister! I give Tim random bits of time and have recently taken to holding and cuddling him like a baby and even saying to him, “You’re my baby boy and I love you.” He’s small for his age, which he’s unhappy about, but he still very cute to cuddle. Whereas Gerry, the 2-year-old, would and does say, “I not a baby”, Tim completely soaks it up, and for the 5 minutes he’s being held in this way he seems to revert a bit. Tanya has taken to gate-crashing our half-hour LB sessions, and they always turn into something else.
I would say that, overall, Tim is happier. He still has tantrums, but since the weekend away I haven’t heard him say that he hates himself at all: not once, come to think of it. He seems gentler and less aggressively playful with Gerry, but not always, and still resists doing homework with me. He says I stress him when I ask him to do it. He also still loses it occasionally, but the tantrum doesn’t last as long and is not so full of hatred.
I am concerned that the further in time we move away from the LB weekend, the more he might revert to previous behaviour. Not to mention that Tanya is getting quite jealous and so has started to return to bossing him a bit (the LB weekend also helped her be nicer to him for a while, for some reason: they get on famously well when they do and infamously badly when they don’t).
So what is it that has to change on a day-to-day basis? I don’t know really. We still have ‘cuddles’: the three of us tend to either watch a film together or they come to my bed for a chat. Tanya can dominate the conversation at these times, and if I ask her to give Tim a chance she gets upset and says I love him more than her.
Actually, if I think about the whole thing, his avoidance of homework and his strange sudden squeals or loud noises are the bones of contention now, and occasionally winding up Gerry. In fact, I’m probably less worried about him than I was when I first wrote to you. In fact, I’ve just realized that he really is happier! It’s how to maintain it, and apply it across the board to the rest of his life.
In the time after that email, Tim had passed some very exacting exams. Marianne was quite jubilant about his progress, much of which she attributed to the LB and the associated changes in their family. She wrote as follows:
It is getting better, really, and it is largely due to the LB and subsequent changes. I really was at a loss and couldn’t see the trees for the woods, or some such! We are going back to family ‘cuddles’, and I do give Tim more time. I am changing back to where we were before I started working 70 hours a week. It is getting better, and he is getting a great deal more time from me than before.
Looking back, there were four things which could have meant I did not tune in to Tim, with disastrous results: my business was under tremendous pressure, so I had to work incredibly hard; my father died; Tim wanted to get good exam results but was not willing to put in the hours; and we moved house. Mostly, I wanted to thank you for improving our lives, because without the awareness you raised about my relationship with Tim it could have been quite awful.
Although we managed the half-hour together only occasionally, we did spend more time chatting, and I check my irritation at the constant noise and hyperactivity that seems to be the way boys grow! We have a lot more cuddles, and even when I ask him to stop tapping/fidgeting/jumping off sofas/screeching etc., it’s done in a better spirit and with less ‘stressiness’. More importantly, he hasn’t screamed like a banshee for ages, I don’t believe he’s said he hates himself and wants to die at all (maybe once or twice), and he hasn’t tried to kill his sister, though he’s still not too thrilled with the privileges (and sometimes existence) of his younger brother.
He recently turned 11, and all the awful entrance exams are over. He got into his preferred school by the skin of his teeth (I don’t really know how, because he really didn’t do much work for it).
All this after just a weekend away together and a bit of awareness! Just think if I actually had given him the half-hour a day that you suggested!
An able and thoughtful boy, Tim told Marianne that he wanted to explain what it had been like from his standpoint. This is what he sent me:
Dear Oliver (This is Tim),
I had a really, really, really etc. good time with my Mum that weekend and thank you so much for the idea. I think I spend a lot more good time with my Mum now.
As you know, me and my Mum went to a hotel and we had soooooooo much chocolate (and it was goooood.)
My Mum spoilt me rotten. I had so much fun and I’ve told all my friends about you and the hotel and how it’s such a good idea. My Mum spent almost £600 on me!
I hope you are well.
Best wishes!
Tim
(I may email again soon. Bye!)
I replied, asking him how important the spending of money had been in the weekend away. This was his analysis.
Dear OJ (This is Tim),
The weekend away made me know that my Mum was always loving and caring for me (not that I didn’t know). As a result my Mum feels that she would like to spend more time with me.
I don’t think spending money is the best thing of going on this trip because the point of it is that you need to spend time with your Mum or Dad and get to know them more and not just to spend money. So the best bit of the Love Bombing was just being with my Mum alone with no one else to care about.
Me and my Mum used to argue a bit because we didn’t really (if you know what I mean) know each other as well as we should and this made me anxious to spend time with her. We don’t argue as much and I feel that my Mum is happier with me. I’m less angry with people in general.
Best wishes,
Tim
Neither Tim nor Tanya slept well when small, to such an extent that when he was 9 months old they consulted a sleep ‘expert’ who persuaded Marianne to leave both children screaming in their rooms for three nights.
Although Marianne worked hard during the early years of all her children, the substitute care each had was different. Tanya and Gerry had highly responsive nannies, but this was not the case for Tim.
Marianne says that ‘With Tim, I went back to work when he was 4 weeks old. The first nanny was not good. I came home on a hot day at lunchtime and he was swaddled in a hot rug, sitting on the front seat in the car. The nanny said, “This is very inconvenient for me: can’t you stop interfering?”’
At 3 months, we had a very nice lady from the Congo for a week who said, ‘I don’t understand about this milk, he needs some chicken.’ She didn’t seem to have noticed that he lacked any teeth! So I registered him for nursery but that was not great, so I moved him to the one where his sister was as soon as I could, but that was not until he was 2.’
Marianne also believes Tim felt very humiliated by his older sister, which she was adept at doing. When his younger brother arrived, the rivalry was increased.
It seems likely that the neglectful early care made him feel unvalued, which was made worse by subsequent rivalry. However, Marianne also believes that the pressures on her during his middle childhood meant she was not tuning in to him and that the LB not only helped to reset the emotional thermostat setting from his early years, it also enabled her to get on his wavelength from age 9.
Other LB stories that relate to this chapter:
♥ Two nights away: Stories 1, 2, 11, 17 and 18
♥ One night away: Stories 3, 5, 7, 8 and 20
♥ Awaydays: Stories 4, 9 and 19
♥ At home: Stories 10, 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16
♥ Spending little or no money: Stories 8, 9, 10, 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16
♥ Children aged 7–9: Stories 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 14 and 20
♥ Single parent: Stories 1, 8, 10 and 19