I thought I knew what I was in for when I became a parent. I had been around children my whole life—babysitting in my teens, becoming a teacher in my 20s, and eventually counseling kids as a family therapist. I thought I knew a thing or two about parenting, and the truth is, I did.
But there was so much I never imagined, including a love so primal I’d never known anything like it, and parenting storms in which I was certain I had lost my way. I tried some things that worked, and many that didn’t. Like all parents, in raising my son I learned things about what kids really need that I would not have figured out otherwise.
When my son reached the stage of pushing back when he wanted something he couldn’t have, I found myself torn between the influence of my own childhood and what I was coming to see was best for him. My family history led me to reason with him plaintively, or get loud and bossy. But reasoning with him when he was in the midst of a big upset got us nowhere, and shouting “Because I said so!” didn’t have a great outcome either. When I paused to think about it, I recalled vividly how those approaches had made me feel as a child.
What frustrated children need is not an explanation of why they can’t get what they want, and they don’t need someone who just gives in to their demands. What they need is the reassurance of knowing there’s a grown-up in the room who can help them through their emotional storms by creating a safe space to let those big feelings move through.
What I was able to practice in my own parenting was what I’d known theoretically: children need the comfort of knowing that someone is genuinely in charge. I like to call this role for parents “Captain of the Ship.” It makes all the difference when your children know you are at the helm.
One of my clients whose parenting life changed radically after she understood the importance of captaining her ship was Caroline, the mother of Gemma, 8, and Carson, 5. (The names have been altered in this story to protect the identity of my clients.)
Caroline came to me because she felt overwhelmed by the challenges of parenting. She found that none of the approaches she tried was working.
“Before I had kids, I imagined how sweet each day would be,” she told me. “I pictured giggles and cuddles, and a sense that my life had a joy and purpose I had never experienced. But the reality is, I feel completely out of control. Every morning I wake up to a series of battles, beginning with something as simple as getting my kids dressed, and finally ending when I collapse into bed after countless power struggles over homework, bath, and bedtime.
“I love my children and would do anything for them, but there are days when raising kids is not what I expected. I thought if I loved them enough, they would be cooperative and, well, fun! Instead, they bicker constantly, resist my requests, and routinely have meltdowns if they don’t like what I’m serving for dinner or don’t feel like doing their chores.”
If you come at your kids rather than alongside them, you generate resistance, defiance, and power struggles.
Caroline told me that from morning to night, she felt a pressure to check things off her list, starting with getting them up and dressed in the morning, all the way through to the end of the day, as she tried to get them bathed and in bed.
“It seems that almost every interaction we have is about me trying to get them to do something they don’t want to do,” says Caroline. I call this phenomenon being lost to the list, a predicament many parents find themselves in.
Caroline’s story is not unique. Every parent will admit to experiencing some degree of dashed expectations and ongoing struggles. I sure did. But when parents engage in power struggles, or threaten and bribe in an attempt to control their kids, they only make matters worse.
Here’s an exercise I find helpful: let your right hand represent you, the parent, and the left hand represent your child. When the right hand—the parent hand—is above the left hand, you are Captain of the Ship. You exude a quiet authority that lets your kids know that no matter how stormy the seas are, you are able to navigate the ships of their lives.
When the two hands are side by side, no one is in charge. I call this relationship “The Two Lawyers.” Each side debates the merits of its position, and the one most committed—or least exhausted—prevails. When you are in lawyer mode, you’re coming at your kids, rather than alongside them. What you generate is resistance, defiance, and power struggles.
Finally, when the child’s hand is above the parent’s hand, the child is essentially in charge. This happens when, as a parent, you feel desperate and out of control. You resort to bribes and threats to force your kids to do what you want. I call this position “The Tyrant,” because you’re trying to “ru