child and parent by the water, child listening, pensive

How to Use Loving Discipline

When we talk about loving our child, we’re really talking about the strong, connective bond we feel towards our child and our child feels towards us. When we discipline kids, however, that bond gets tested and perhaps strained a little, and this is where disciplining kids becomes challenging. Using what I call loving discipline is a way to discipline while still maintaining this important, mutual connection. Here’s how to do it.

Note: you probably already know quite a bit about the how-tos of discipline—about setting limits, having consequences, teaching boundaries, reinforcing positive behavior, being consistent, etc., etc. There’s tons of information already out there. Instead, let’s focus on a piece of discipline that doesn’t get talked about, and which can radically affect a child’s mental health.

What we talk about when we talk about discipline

girl on floor looking irritated, not wanting to load clothes in washing machine

When we tell our child, “Please put your dirty clothes into the washing machine,” we’re trying to promote independence and teach her an important life skill. We’re also teaching her that, as part of the family, she needs to help out, too.

 

This is a type of discipline, though we usually think of discipline as happening when our child doesn’t behave the way we want.

So, when she refuses to load the washing machine, we’re now faced with the dilemma of whether and how to discipline. If we decide to use consequences, threats, punishment, etc., we will be creating some level of conflict with our child, and conflict will stretch that connective tissue between us and her.

 

When we talk about discipline, we’re often talking about conflict and the stress it places on relationships.

Conflict and connection

There’s no way to avoid conflict with kids. Because they are individuals with their own ideas and opinions, and because we are so often trying to get them to do things they don’t want to do, we’re going to have conflict.

 

They are naturally going to test limits and push back against our requests, and this is developmentally normal and necessary.

 

But why does conflict tend to strain our connection with our child? Can we have conflict and disagreements without hurting the bond between us? I think it’s possible with a loving discipline approach.

Loving discipline: an overview

Loving discipline does all the usual disciplining of setting limits and following through with consequences, but it first considers what’s going on emotionally for the child that led to the behavior. When parents understand why their child is acting out, they can more easily discipline in a way that maintains their connection to the child.

For example, before imposing a consequence for a child’s ripping up a library book, a parent first needs to figure out why the child is ripping up the book. Loving discipline first tries to understand what’s happening and why before reacting to the behavior.

 

Is the child angry at something and taking it out on the book? Or, similarly, is he wanting to make you mad for some reason by hurting the book? Could he be mad and jealous that you like to read, and he’s now trying to communicate this by ripping up your library book? If the book were a kids book, might he be ripping out a particular page because he wants to keep it?

torn book

If a parent only reacts to the book-ripping and says, “You can’t destroy books! They’re important and cost money. No book time tonight. Just straight to bed!” she’s probably missing the point of the child’s behavior. Instead of attending to the actual issue—say, the child’s competition with the book for the mom’s attention—the mother is exacerbating the problem by taking away book time at night, an important time to bond.

What loving discipline sounds like: some examples

preschooler cleaning up spilled milk on table

The scene: though you’d asked your 3.5-year-old not to bounce his ball, he did so and now has knocked over a glass of milk on the table. He looks surprised and a little worried.

 

What you might be tempted to say: “After I just told you to stop bouncing the ball! I know it sounds absurd, but sometimes, the things I say actually are important. I’m not just nagging because I got nothing else better to do with myself except hear my own nagging voice. There are reasons I tell you things.”

What you actually say: “I know how much you like to bounce the ball, and it’s fine to do it outside, but inside isn’t okay. I don’t think you meant to make a mess but I’d like help cleaning it up. Here’s a sponge, and let’s see how much of the milk you can get. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just do your best.”

 

What you’re really saying is: I understand you. I know you didn’t mean to do this. I’m not mad, but I am a little annoyed that you didn’t control your desire to bounce the ball. The consequence is to make things right, and all I need is a little help. I can do the rest. It’s not a big deal.

 

Your child’s narratives: Accidents happen, and it’s okay. When I make mistakes, my mom still loves me. I can fix things when I make mistakes.

The scene: You’re walking your first grader to school as you always do when she suddenly falls to the asphalt and refuses to stand up. The last two weeks, she’s been vaguely complaining of not liking school this year. You need her to get to school so that you can then get to work on time.

 

What you might be tempted to say: “I absolutely don’t have time for this. This is not how I need my day to start out. Can you please, please, please just stand up? Those two long things attached to your body called legs: I need you to use them and get yourself to school so I can get myself to work.”

mother with recalcitrant, resistant daughter in park

What you actually say: “Sweetie, this is about school, isn’t it?” You sit on the bench next to her. “I know there’s something you’re not liking about school, and I wish I knew what it was so I could help. Tonight when we’re all home, we need to figure out what’s happening at school, so we can fix it. I’ll talk to your teacher today about this to see if he’s got ideas. But for now, can I tell him you’re having a rough morning so he can help? I’m sure that whatever’s going on, we can fix it. Let’s just get you through today.”

 

What you’re really saying is: I don’t know what’s making you scared or anxious about school, but I want to know, and I think we can figure out the problem and the solution. There are people who want to help you. You’re not alone with this.

 

Also, notice that you don’t mention your need to get to work on time. To do so would put more stress onto your child. It may lead her to believe that your motives are selfish and that you don’t care about her feelings.

 

Your child’s narratives: I’m loved. I’m deserving of love. People care about me and want to help me. It’s important to figure out how I feel.

a young girl looks down at her baby brother in a chair while holding a stuffy away from him

The scene: Your three-year-old is insisting that her baby brother’s absolute favorite stuffy, Dog-Dog, is now hers. While they often play with their stuffies together, you’re sure he never would give away Dog-Dog. Her brother has been walking for over six months now, and he’s getting into her things—especially her own stuffies—making her furious at times. Now she’s refusing to return Dog-Dog.

What you might be tempted to say: “It’s a stupid dog that you don’t even want. Can you give it back so he stops crying, so I won’t get annoyed, so you won’t then pinch him when I’m not looking, making him cry more so that I have to separate you two, knowing this will never ever end until I die and you feel guilty for sending me to my early death.”

 

What you actually say: “I know how he takes some of your stuffies and makes you angry. Now you’re doing the same thing back to show him how it feels.

 

“I’m going to do more to help you protect the stuffies that you don’t want to share, and I will do the same for him. Right now I can see that Dog-Dog is one of those super-important, not-for-sharing stuffies to him. You’ve shown him you’re the big sister and can take things, and you’ve shown him how it feels. Now you have to give it back to him or I will take it and do so. And tonight, we’ll go through your stuffies to decide which ones don’t get shared.”

 

What you’re really saying is: I get how you feel. I will help you both protect and draw limits around what should and should not be shared. I will treat you both equally.

 

The narrative that forms: You and your brother’s feelings are both very important. Some things can be shared and other things don’t have to be. If your brother is making you angry, I can help set reasonable limits, and I’ll enforce them reasonably.

Naming emotions

A key part of loving discipline includes the parent’s voicing how the child feels. (For more on this, check out the post, “Naming the Emotions: A Key Part of Successful Parenting.”) The challenge then is to figure out how your child feels.

 

For young kids, say under seven years, this can be challenging.

 

A good way to decipher how your child feels is to look at her behavior, because it’s her feelings that generate her behavior. The following posts can help with this:

 

How to Make Sense of Your Child’s Behavior: Some Examples

The All-Important Link Between Feelings and Behavior

A Key Technique Therapists Use to Figure Out Kids.

Why Kids Need to Control So Much

How Feeling Small Surprisingly Affects a Child’s Behavior

Using Play Therapeutically, Part 1

Related Posts

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Sign up for our newsletter

Get notified of the latest parenting news, advice, and resources.