Back with a separate thought.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Thao 
About the choice thing, though, I do believe that she can choose. I've seen her do it. I've seen her start up her "fussy" motor and then suddenly cut it off, as though she suddenly decided, "ah, I'm not in the mood for this now".
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I've been thinking a lot about choice when it comes to behavior and anger, and this particular sentence has really touched me. I would like to share something with you that is very personal and very much a struggle, and the reason I'm sharing it is that understanding this about myself has helped me understand my own angry daughter differently (which in turn, has helped me help her). You may not agree, and I realize that what I'm about to say may not in any way apply to your dd (I don't know her, and I don't know you).
I have struggled with anger for years. Not just feeling angry, but specifically with how I behave when angry. This is something that I only struggle with in the context of parenting. I don't believe it is appropriate to yell at my children, or take nasty tones with them. But I do at times, and I feel shame thinking about it (though I have gotten much better over time). If someone were to observe me, what they would see is that sometimes I handle my anger inappropriately and yell at my children. They would also see that sometimes, I start to sound irritable and the signs are there that I'm going to yell (if someone observed me long enough, they'd know the signs as you know when your dd's fussy motor is starting up) and then suddenly stop it and shift gears-as if I'd chosen, suddenly, that I just don't want to yell right now. They'd also see that sometimes, I may look a bit frustrated or sound tense but overall handle the situation calmly. I imagine that if someone were observing all of this, they might come to the conclusion that it's more or less a simple matter of choice for me. An observer who isn't privy to my inner landscape might think that I am a mother to whom yelling in anger feels good (as in a release) at times, who is sometimes motivated enough to chose to behave respectfully when angry, and who at other times chooses to go ahead and behave disrespectfully when angry (not motivated enough to choose otherwise). An observer might think that it's only a matter of choice, that if I can choose do do better I should choose to do better, and if I choose to do better I will do better.
What an observer wouldn't be able to see, and what I might not be able to adequately express, is that it's just a lot more complex than that. I have the greatest motivation in the world: I love my children and desperately want to be a respectful, gentle mother who doesn't yell, I think my children deserve this. That is always, always there. I believe, strongly, that yelling is disrespectful and that a pattern of yelling is damaging. Yelling never, ever feels good. In fact, it feels terrible every time. However, it isn't as simple as just deciding to stop. There are so many factors that go into my being able to handle my anger more effectively and without yelling, and so many factors that go into those times when I do yell. At all times I bear full responsibility for my actions, and yet it is never so simple as "just decide not to do it, just do better." What I learned as a child from my own parents plays a part in my yelling, my own thoughts and perceptions play a role in my yelling, stress (both in parenting and in other areas of my life) plays a role, anxiety plays a role, sensory input plays a role, expectations play a role, what has happened as a consequence of my yelling in the past plays a role (if yelling got my kids to do what I wanted in the past, I'm tempted to yell again), how much support I have plays a role, how clearly I'm thinking (and we don't think as clearly when stressed or very angry/frustrated/scared/etc.) plays a role. In order to do better, I have had to change how I think, change how I perceive, understand differently, learn a lot of skills (parenting, communication, relaxation, emotional, cognitive, etc.), acquire a lot of information, get the right amount and type of support, reduce stress, and make sure my own physical and emotional needs are adequately met. When my cup is full enough of what I need (I have adequate resources, internal and external, to draw on), I can relatively easily give and care for my kids without yelling; when my cup is maybe not quite full enough but not empty enough either, I can start down the path to yelling then catch myself, stop, and choose to be gentle; when it's nearly empty it's extremely difficult to handle my emotions well and this is when I'm likely to yell. It's never simple. It only
seems simple when my cup is full enough. The full enough cup is what allows me to do better, not sheer force of will.
I see this now when it comes to my child. I don't always know what exactly it is that she needs, but I do know that she is still learning to manage her emotions as I am. I do know that it's no more simple for her than it is for me. Understanding that allows me to more effectively guide her.
I guess I just urge you to reconsider whether it's just a simple matter of choice for your child, whatever approach you decide to take.