What your kid’s behavior means and why he responds differently than you.
Anytime you experience new feelings, they can be incredibly intense. That is particularly true for children, who don’t have as much experience as adults or the framework to deal with hurt and grief. Thus, the pain they feel can be even more intense and hard-hitting initially. They are also confused, since nothing like this has happened to them before. The good news is that, especially with younger children, they will often grieve for a shorter period of time.
With children, the length and depth of their grief can vary greatly, depending on their age, their personality, and the type of experience. Grief doesn’t happen only when people die. It can happen as a result of any traumatic situation, including abuse, rape, a suicide attempt, bullying, and parents divorcing. It also happens when your 7-year-old is ripped away from her friends as a result of a move for your job.
With time, grief will dissipate. Life will go on. But in the midst of grief, no one wants to be told that.
Never use the expression, “You’ll get over it.” There is no “it”—you’re talking about people and a situation. Grief is personal. You wouldn’t appreciate it if someone said that to you, so why would you say that to your child? In that response, you and your child are similar. However, you can never expect a child to grieve the same way, for the same length of time, or with the same intensity you do.
Why You Grieve Differently
You and your child are two different people, at two very different stages in life. You approach life with your own unique perspectives.
Let’s say Rover, the family dog, dies. He’s been in your family for 12 years, and the loss hits you hard, even though you’re now 34 and you knew he was near the end of his life span. You can’t imagine getting another dog, because none can replace that German shepherd. He’s gone through a lot of crises with you. You need time to grieve.
Your 7-year-old son, though, can’t imagine life without a dog. Home isn’t home without a fuzzy body to hug when he comes in the door or to follow him down the street when he plays baseball with the neighborhood boys. Your son cries when Rover doesn’t come back with you from the vet’s office. He has lost his best friend.
Then a day later your son shocks you by announcing at breakfast that he wants to go look for a new dog. “Can we do it today, Mom?” he asks.
You’re astounded. How can he get over his grief so fast? I thought he loved that dog.
Some children get over their grief swiftly and move on. They have accepted the reality of what happened, within their frame of reference. Some want to talk about what happened in order to process it. They pepper you with questions and what-ifs, nearly driving you crazy. Yet others want to retreat and need time alone.
It’s the same with adults, only adults hold on to grief and hurting for a lot longer. Their processing is more complicated as they deal with more angles of the experience. They think about not only how the experience affects them personally but also how it affects others.
Children tend to focus on what is currently in front of them. Usually the younger the child, the faster and easier he’ll deal with hurt and grief. Younger children will get sad after the fact only if they are reminded of the hurt. Older children may still harbor the hurt deep inside, but they are less likely to talk about it.
The key is knowing your child well enough to understand what he needs for handling his grief and hurt in a healthy way that is uniquely suited to him. But in general, a child’s grief is short-lived and more focused on one aspect of the event rather than the whole picture, unlike an adult.
The Purposive Nature of Grief
There’s something you may not know about your hurting child. Yes, he is grieving. What happened to him wasn’t nice or fair. But the corresponding follow-up behavior you’re seeing—the withdrawal, the shoulder slump, the tears, the self-deprecating comments—is a purposeful response.
Purposive behavior, a psychological term from the Adlerian model of individual psychology, simply means that any person engages in social behavior to serve a purpose that’s consistent with their self-image. That includes your child. He is exhibiting those behaviors in front of you because doing so pays off.
The Attention Getter
Every human being’s instinctive number one goal is to get attention. We all exit the womb with the intention of garnering as much attention as we can.
If you don’t believe me, think about a newborn baby. What’s the first thing that child does? Cry. But he’s smarter than you give him credit for. Soon he figures out, Hey, this crying thing gets those big people’s attention, and I get what I want. He’s smart enough to learn to turn on the waterworks at will.
Feel a hunger pang? Cry and Mom hurries to feed you.
Diaper feels a little soggy and uncomfortable? Cry and Dad comes running to change it.
Don’t like being alone in that crib and want some comfort? Cry and Mom rushes in to snuggle you against her warm, cushy body. It’s far better than that cold, hard crib any day.
As your child has grown older and even smarter, he’s tried out different behaviors to see what evokes the most response from you. He can now get you to fight on his behalf, spend time with him on his terms, and do something for him that he doesn’t want to do. In other words, he’s workin’ ya, and you’ve fallen for it.
Because every child craves attention, he will work hard to get it. His life mantra has become “I only count when I’m noticed and the center of attention.”
If he doesn’t get you to focus on him and give him kudos for doing positive things—like helping the next-door granny up the stairs with her groceries—he’ll try negative things. He will make you pay attention. He’ll decide to use the power he’s gained from watching your responses to work you even more.
That’s when an attention-seeking child becomes a power-driven child.
The Power-Driven Child
This child’s mantra becomes “I only count when others do what I say, when I control the situation.”
Some of these kids are easy to identify. When life is unfair to them,
Other kids are harder to identify but are just as powerful. For example:
Powerful behavior can come in many forms, but it all has the same purpose—to force you to respond in such a way that you bend to your child’s desires. Basically, by controlling you with their behavior, your child is saying, “Mom, Dad, I’m in charge here. I’m going to call the shots. You’re going to do what I want you to do, when I want you to do it.”
Where did your child learn such behavior from?
Think for a second. When someone does something nasty to you, what do you instinctively think? Wow, that person must have had a rotten day to go after me like that. I’ll give her a “Get Out of Jail Free” pass this time. It seems like she needs it. If that’s your immediate response, you’re right up there with Mother Teresa and the angel Gabriel. I wish there were more people like you on the planet.
With most of us, our fight-and-nuke-’em response kicks in. We think, Hey, you can’t do this to me. I’m . . . [your boss, your parent, the head of the PTA, or some other higher-on-the-food-chain-of-life person]. Who are you to treat me like this? If that’s you, you’re like 95 percent of humans on the planet.
Do you instantly want to put that person in her place? Bend her to your will so she’ll do what you want, when you want? If so, you’re a powerful person yourself. You’ve developed that pattern because it’s worked for you in the past.
Children learn by watching their parents. What has your child learned by watching you? When power meets power, the result isn’t good. As your child enters the preadolescent and adolescent years, after a few power plays fly between the two of you, one of two things eventually happens. Either there’s an explosion to rival that of Mount Saint Helens, or your home resembles the feel and temperature of the Arctic tundra.
Even in times of hurt and grief, it’s important to respond both realistically and positively in handling the situation up front. You be the adult. You know that your child needs attention, so supply what she needs, without her being forced to move to the next stage of misbehavior (see sidebar).
Statements like these level the playing field: “I know you’re hurting. I’m sorry about what happened to you. But I’ve seen how well you handle life. You won’t let even situations like this get you down for long. I believe in you. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m all ears. I know you’re giving it your best shot. I love you.”
Such wording takes only a minute, but it meets the innate need for attention and halts power plays in their tracks. Your child doesn’t have to work hard to manipulate you. She already knows—you’ve stated outright—that you are in her court. You also are showing her respect by giving her credit to handle and resolve her own situation. And if she asks for it, you’ll offer any help she wants you to give.
You’ve identified with her feelings but haven’t rescued her or taken control of the situation. Instead, you’ve nudged her toward resolving the situation herself. Many times when your child is hurting, such an approach works wonders in boosting her self-worth and ability to overcome even more difficult situations in the future.
You won’t always be there to solve your child’s problems. The sooner she learns how to manage stressful events, the better. That means you are there to walk with her through the next steps, but you don’t call the shots.
However, in situations of danger—abuse, anorexia, suicide, etc.—your parental role changes. You need to take control of the situation immediately.
Some of you may already be experiencing the next stages, when the ante is upped. If your child has been hurt long enough—for example, bullied continually at school—he may move to the revenge stage. The child who is consumed with revenge thinks, I’ve been hurt by life. I only matter if I can win, dominate others, and hurt them as much as they’ve hurt me. This is the stage at which a child who is abused or bullied can become an abuser or a bully himself.
But it is the fourth stage—display of inadequacy or assumed disability—that is the most dangerous for children. They are passive in life, living out the mantra “Because I’m no good and can’t do anything right and nothing goes my way, I won’t do anything at all.”
These last two stages are when suicide attempts are possible.
In stage 3 a suicide attempt is the ultimate revenge. The child often leaves a note, explaining why he did what he did. It might be filled with self-blame and self-hate, but often it is full of blame for those who didn’t understand his pain. That note is his attempt to say, “Take that. I’ll get back at you if it’s the last thing I do.”
But when a child reaches stage 4, the suicide attempt is more likely to be well thought out and permanent. If he doesn’t care about life and doesn’t think he matters in the universe, what indeed is the reason for living? That person is likely to choose a suicide attempt from which there is no return. He’s been so beaten up by life that he’s given up.
How to Handle Grief in a Healthy Way
I’ll never forget what a friend of mine did at my dad’s funeral. He didn’t say a word, but I knew he cared by the way he touched me and the look he gave me. It was exactly what I needed at that point in time.
A week later, that same friend called me and said, “I know this is a tough time for you, but I wanted to know if it would work to have breakfast, lunch, or dinner together this weekend. I’d love to see you.”
That friend knew me well. He also knew that after the hubbub of death and the funeral details, an empty loneliness would settle in, and I’d miss my father. He wanted me to know he cared and that he was willing to accompany me on the journey.
That’s how people who really know you and the cycle of grief respond. They allow you to feel the hurt, to grieve, and they don’t try to explain it away or smooth it over. Then they follow up to see how you’re doing. Your child craves the same response from you.
What are some healthy ways to help children process their grief?
Some children naturally want to talk about the deceased person or pet. Others don’t. Some need a hug. Others don’t want to be touched at the height of their grieving. Some need a quiet place to think or cry outside of others’ view.
What are your child’s normal patterns of behavior? Is she verbal? Does he like physical affirmation? Does she retreat to think things over? Then likely those are ways your child will also initially respond to hurt, because they can grapple with grief within their comfort zone.
If your child isn’t naturally talkative, you can still support him in this trauma. But do it his way. For example, the two of you could plant Grandma’s favorite flowers under your kitchen window. Even years later, you’ll see them blooming, think of how much she’d enjoy them, and smile, remembering her.
Recall the heartwarming moments.
One of the most difficult things for grieving people is having someone suddenly disappear. Many times adults don’t talk about the deceased person around their kid for fear that their kid will cry. But what’s wrong with tears? They are cleansing and healing. So talk about the person. Share your memories of when they made you laugh and made a difference in your life.
If you avoid talking for fear it’ll bring up bad feelings, you’re barking up the wrong tree. You aren’t helping anyone. You’re avoiding the obvious—the elephant sitting on the couch in your living room. You’re doing the soft-shoe dance to entertain your child so he won’t feel sad.
However, by doing so you’re setting up the idea that it’s wrong to feel sad or bad, and that people are only important when they’re alive and can contribute to you. Instead, it’s good to talk about feelings and experiences you’ve had with those who have left this earth.
The next time your child says, “I miss Grandma,” what will you say?
Try, “You know what? I miss Grandma too. When you think of her, what’s the first thing you think of?”
“Her apple pie!” your child says.
“Oh my goodness, Grandma made the best apple pie. Remember when she was bringing us a warm apple pie and she dropped it in the driveway?”
You both giggle.
What are you doing? You’re keeping Grandma alive in your child’s memory. Someday your grown-up kid will remind you of that story. He may even roll up his sleeves and make Grandma’s apple pie for his family.
Even though it’s been many years since my father passed away, I still miss him at times. I can still replicate his voice and all the crazy one-liners he said. Every April 25, which was his birthday, I call my older brother and sister and talk in my dad’s voice. They laugh like crazy . . . and sometimes we even cry while we remember. It’s a healthy, wonderful way to celebrate my dad and keep him alive in our memories.
Be real about your own feelings.
When you’re missing that mom of yours, don’t sidestep your own grief for fear of upsetting your child. Instead, when your child asks, “What’s wrong, Mom?” say, “I’m just missing Grandma right now.”
Covering up sadness is never good long-term. Allowing the sadness to run its course is much better. Also, since grief is cyclical—especially in older kids and adults—realize that it can circle back when even small events trigger memories of the deceased person. To this day, I can’t help but get teary-eyed and think about my mother every time I have tomato soup. No one could make it like she did. It might have been regular Campbell’s soup out of the can, but she added a pat of butter and served it to me with a mother’s love. Everything tasted better because my mom made it for me.
When you lose people close to you, grief doesn’t end cleanly. But the intensity of it wanes over time. That’s when the feeling of being alone can creep in, if others don’t share that burden with you.
If you are real about your own emotions, you give your child the permission to be real as well. You build the kind of relationship in which your child can talk to you about anything. Someday your child may surprise you with how well she understands you and supports you in a time of grief.
My friend Carlee experienced such a moment recently with her 17-year-old daughter. The two have developed a close, supportive relationship over the years, likely because they’ve weathered fairly rough storms that have hit them together. After Carlee’s father died, she went into steely overdrive, trying to catch up on numerous projects at home and work.
One day out of the blue, the grief she’d tried to keep hidden hit when she and her daughter were running a routine errand. What did that wise daughter do? She didn’t say anything. She simply pulled the car over into a parking lot and held her mother as she cried.
Where had that 17-year-old learned the empathetic pattern of handling grief? From her mother. Both are strong individuals who don’t let emotions fly easily. They’ve had to be tough due to life circumstances and being in the public eye. But both are secure enough in each other’s love that they can be real about their feelings in front of each other.
Model being real. If you don’t, your child can never risk being real with you.
Look at pictures.
When your child is feeling sad, suggest he take out a picture of the deceased person and talk to it.
“If he does that, he might start crying,” you say.
So what? Isn’t it better to cry in the safety of your home? It’s far worse to let sadness fester until it becomes bitterness and then morphs to anger that flares when you least expect it.
Tears are refreshing. That’s why there’s a product called LiquiTears. When you have dry eyes, you put a few drops in and the dryness clears up. You feel much better. It’s the same way psychologically in times of grief. Sometimes you need some LiquiTears to release the tension. Your kids do too.
So go ahead and cry. In fact, it’s best if you do it together. Throw a hug or two in there too.