When Children Act Like Children

Children’s brains are wired to be curious, push the limits, experiment with authority, all to figure out the world and how they fit into it. Coupling that with a developing prefrontal cortex - impulse control, prioritizing, planning ahead, task analysis, emotional regulation, are all developing skills, not yet fully online and operational. 

Yet, what do adults classify as “good choices”? 

Impulse control: “Stop doing that.” 

Prioritizing: “Clean-up your toys.”

Planning ahead: “Get your shoes on.”

Task Analysis: “Go get dressed.”

Emotional regulation: “Calm down.”

This can lead to a lot of parental frustration because we’re expecting children to use fully use their prefrontal cortex 100% percent of the time. And the reality is: they can’t. 

And neither can we. 

What happens when our child acts like a child when we expect them to act like an adult? 

We get frustrated. Annoyed. Mad. Exasperated. 

And our inner child bubbles up. The scripts from our childhood come out. 

That voice in our head starts: 

Why don’t they ever listen to me? 

They don’t respect me. 

They don’t appreciate anything I do for them. 

The feelings of being unseen, unheard, disconnected, shamed come roaring back. 

The challenge for me is always to balance my inner child’s needs with my children’s needs. When they “don’t listen” that little girl quickly comes into my head: “Come on guys, just help me out.” 

My children acting like children triggers my inner child wounds. 

What helps? Listening to that inner child. She feels unheard - I hear you. 

Last night, my 2 year-old was screaming at me in the car. He had chattered non-stop for the past hour and now his noise had escalated to screaming and demands. Oh, how the non-stop demands trigger my inner child. 

We pulled into the driveway and my husband wasn’t home. I had no back-up. 

I sat. Not daring to open my mouth. 

Then I decided to stand-up and walk. I opened the garage, walked through the house to open the front door. 

I gave my inner child a break from the demands. 

I turned on my prefrontal cortex with rational self-talk: “He’s an over-tired, hungry two year-old who is completely dependent upon you to help him meet those needs. It’s his job to demand food and rest.”

Then, with my inner child soothed and my upstairs brain activated, I was able to show-up for my child, acting like an adult, while allowing him to act as a child. 

I cried. This is really hard. And it can feeling overwhelming. These wounds are decades old. Healing can be messy. But man, it’s building such a solid foundation for the next generation. And in my book, that’s always worth the investment.