The New Strong-Willed Child

Dobson: Chapters 1 – 3

The New Strong-Willed Child

James C. Dobson: Dobson, J. C. (2014).  The New Strong-Willed Child. Tyndale House Publishers, Inc..  https://mbsdirect.vitalsource.com/books/9781414356044

Chapter 1 THE WILD & WOOLLY WILL

AT ONE TIME, the Dobson household consisted of a mother and a father, a boy and a girl, one hamster, one parakeet, one lonely goldfish, and two hopelessly neurotic cats. We all lived together in relative harmony with a minimum of conflict and strife. But there was another member of our family who was less congenial and cooperative. He was a stubborn, twelve-pound dachshund named Sigmund Freud (Siggie), who honestly believed that he owned the place. All dachshunds tend to be independent, I’m told, but Siggie was a confirmed revolutionary. He was not vicious or mean; he just wanted to run things—and the two of us engaged in a power struggle throughout his lifetime.

Siggie was not only stubborn, but he wouldn’t pull his own weight in the family. He wouldn’t bring in the newspaper on cold mornings; he refused to chase a ball for the children; he didn’t keep the gophers out of the garden; and he didn’t do any of the usual tricks that most cultured dogs perform. Alas, Siggie refused to engage in any of the self-improvement programs that I initiated on his behalf. He was content just to trot through life, watering and sniffing and barking at everything that moved.

Sigmund was not even a good watchdog. This fact was confirmed the night we were visited by a prowler who entered our backyard at three o’clock in the morning. I suddenly awoke from a deep sleep, got out of bed, and felt my way through the house without turning on the lights. I knew someone was on the patio and Siggie knew it too, because the coward was crouched behind me! After listening to the thumping of my heart for a few minutes, I reached out to take hold of the rear doorknob. At that moment, the backyard gate quietly opened and closed. Someone had been standing three feet from me and that someone was now tinkering in my garage. Siggie and I held a little conversation in the darkness and decided that he should be the one to investigate the disturbance. I opened the back door and ordered my dog to “Attack!” But Siggie had just had one! He stood there throbbing and shaking so badly that I couldn’t even push him out the back door. In the noise and confusion that ensued, the intruder escaped (which pleased both dog and man).

Please don’t misunderstand me: Siggie was a member of our family and we loved him dearly. And despite his anarchistic nature, I did finally teach him to obey a few simple commands. However, we had some classic battles before he reluctantly yielded to my authority. The greatest confrontation occurred when I had been in Miami for a three-day conference. I returned to observe that Siggie had become boss of the house while I was gone. But I didn’t realize until later that evening just how strongly he felt about his new position as captain.

At eleven o’clock that night, I told Siggie to go get into his bed, which was a permanent enclosure in the family room. For six years, I had given him that order at the end of each day, and for six years Siggie had obeyed. On that occasion, however, he refused to budge. He was in the bathroom, seated comfortably on the furry lid of the toilet seat. That was his favorite spot in the house, because it allowed him to bask in the warmth of a nearby electric heater. Incidentally, Siggie had to learn the hard way that it was extremely important that the lid be down before he left the ground. I’ll never forget the night he learned that lesson. He came thundering in from the cold and sailed through the air—and nearly drowned before I could get him out.

On the night of our great battle, I told Sigmund to leave his warm seat and go to bed. Instead, he flattened his ears and slowly turned his head toward me. He braced himself by placing one paw on the edge of the furry lid, then hunched his shoulders, raised his lips to reveal the molars on both sides, and uttered his most threatening growl. That was Siggie’s way of saying, “Get lost!”

I had seen this defiant mood before and knew that I had to deal with it. The only way to make Siggie obey was to threaten him with destruction. Nothing else worked. I turned and went to my closet and got a small belt to help me “reason” with ’ol Sig. My wife, who was watching this drama unfold, told me that as soon as I left the room, Siggie jumped from his perch and looked down the hall to see where I had gone. Then he got behind her and growled.

When I returned, I held up the belt and again told the angry dog to get into his bed. He stood his ground so I gave him a firm swat across the rear end, and he tried to bite the belt. I popped him again and he tried to bite me. What developed next is impossible to describe. That tiny dog and I had the most vicious fight ever staged between man and beast. I fought him up one wall and down the other, with both of us scratching and clawing and growling. I am still embarrassed by the memory of the entire scene. Inch by inch I moved him toward the family room and his bed. As a final desperate maneuver, Siggie jumped on the couch and backed into the corner for one last snarling stand. I eventually got him into his bed, but only because I outweighed him two hundred to twelve!

The following night I expected another siege of combat at Siggie’s bedtime. To my surprise, however, he accepted my command without debate or complaint and simply trotted toward the family room in perfect submission. In fact, Siggie and I never had another “go for broke” stand.

It is clear to me now that Siggie was saying on the first night, in his canine way, “I don’t think you’re tough enough to make me obey.” Perhaps I seem to be humanizing the behavior of a dog, but I think not. Veterinarians will confirm that some breeds of dogs, notably dachshunds and shepherds, will not accept the leadership of their masters until human authority has stood the test of fire and proved itself worthy. I got that message across to Siggie in one decisive encounter, and we were good friends for the rest of his life.

This is not a book about the discipline of dogs. But there is an important aspect of my story that is highly relevant to the world of children. Just as surely as a dog will occasionally challenge the authority of his leaders, a child is inclined to do the same thing, only more so. This is no minor observation, for it represents a characteristic of human nature that has escaped the awareness of many experts who write books on the subject of discipline. When I wrote twenty-five years ago, there was hardly a text for parents or teachers that adequately acknowledged the struggle—the confrontation of wills—that strong-willed children seem to love. For them, adult leadership is rarely accepted unchallenged; it must be tested and found worthy before it is respected. It is one of the frustrating aspects of child rearing that most parents have to discover for themselves.

THE HIERARCHY OF STRENGTH AND COURAGE

But why do some children, particularly those who are strong-willed, have such a pugnacious temperament? One of the simplistic answers (there is a more complete explanation in chapter 3) is that it reflects the admiration boys and girls have for strength and courage. They will occasionally disobey parental instructions for the precise purpose of testing the determination of those in charge. Why? Because they care deeply about the issue of “who’s toughest.” This helps explain the popularity of superheroes—Robin Hood and Tarzan and Spider-Man and Superman—in the folklore of children. It also explains why they often brag, “My dad can beat up your dad!” (One child said in response, “That’s nothing, my mom can beat up my dad too!”)

Whenever a youngster moves into a new neighborhood or a new school district, he usually has to fight (either verbally or physically) to establish himself in the hierarchy of strength. This respect for power and courage also makes children want to know how tough their leaders are. Thus, whether you are a parent, a grandparent, a Scout leader, a bus driver, or a schoolteacher, I can guarantee that sooner or later, one of the children under your authority will clench his little fist and take you on. Like Siggie at bedtime, he will say with his manner: “I don’t think you are tough enough to make me obey.” You had better be prepared to prove him wrong in that moment, or the challenge will happen again and again.

This defiant game, which I call Challenge the Chief, can be played with surprising skill by very young children. A father told me of taking his three-year-old daughter to a basketball game. The child was, of course, interested in everything in the gym except the athletic contest. Dad permitted her to roam free and climb on the bleachers, but he set definite limits regarding how far she could stray. He took her by the hand and walked with her to a stripe painted on the gym floor. “You can play all around the building, Janie, but don’t go past this line,” he instructed her. He had no sooner returned to his seat than the toddler scurried in the direction of the forbidden territory. She stopped at the border for a moment, then flashed a grin over her shoulder to her father, and deliberately placed one foot over the line as if to say, “Whatcha gonna do about it?” Virtually every parent the world over has been asked the same question at one time or another.

The entire human race is afflicted with the same tendency toward willful defiance that this three-year-old exhibited. Her behavior in the gym is not so different from the folly of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. God had told them they could eat anything in the Garden except the forbidden fruit (“do not go past this line”). Yet they challenged the authority of the Almighty by deliberately disobeying His commandment. Perhaps this tendency toward self-will is the essence of original sin that has infiltrated the human family. It certainly explains why I place such stress on the proper response to willful defiance during childhood, for that rebellion can plant the seeds of personal disaster. The weed that grows from it may become a tangled briar patch during the troubled days of adolescence.

When a parent refuses to accept his child’s defiant challenge, something changes in their relationship. The youngster begins to look at his mother and father with disrespect; they are unworthy of her allegiance. More important, she wonders why they would let her do such harmful things if they really loved her. The ultimate paradox of childhood is that boys and girls want to be led by their parents but insist that their mothers and fathers earn the right to lead them.

On behalf of those readers who have never experienced such a confrontation, let me describe how a determined kid is typically constructed. At birth he looks deceptively like his more compliant sibling. He weighs seven pounds and is totally dependent on those who care for him. Indeed, he would not survive for more than a day or two without their attention. Ineffectual little arms and legs dangle aimlessly in four directions, appearing to be God’s afterthoughts. What a picture of vulnerability and innocence he is!

Isn’t it amazing, given this beginning, what happens in twenty short months? Junior then weighs twenty-five pounds and he’s itching for action. This kid who couldn’t even hold his own bottle less than two years earlier now has the gall to look his two-hundred-pound father straight in the kisser and tell him where to get off? What audacity! Obviously, there is something deep within his soul that longs for control. He will work at achieving it for the rest of his life.

When our children were young, we lived near one of these little spitfires. He was thirty-six months old at the time and had already bewildered and overwhelmed his mother. The contest of wills was over. He had won it. His sassy talk, to his mother and anyone else who got in his way, was legendary in the neighborhood. Then one day my wife watched him ride his tricycle down the driveway and into the street, which panicked his mother. We lived on a curve and the cars came around that bend at high speed. The woman rushed out of the house and caught up with her son as he pedaled down the street. She took hold of his handlebars to redirect him, and he came unglued.

“Get your dirty hands off my tricycle!” he screamed. His eyes were squinted in fury. As Shirley watched in disbelief, this woman did as she was told. The life of her child was in danger, yet this mother did not have the courage to make him obey her. He continued to ride down the street while she trailed along behind, hoping for the best.

How could it be that a tiny little boy at three years of age was able to buffalo his thirty-year-old mother in this way? Clearly, she had no idea how to manage him. He was simply tougher than she—and they both knew it. This mild-mannered woman had produced an iron-willed youngster who was willing to fight with anyone who tried to run him in, and you can be sure that his mom’s physical and emotional resources were continually drained by his antics. We lost track of this family, but I’m sure this kid’s adolescent years were something to behold.

A LESSON IN A SUPERMARKET

In thinking about the characteristics of compliant and defiant children, I sought an illustration to explain the vastly differing thrusts of human temperaments. I found an appropriate analogy in a supermarket. Imagine yourself in a grocery store, pushing a cart up the aisle. You give the basket a small shove, and it glides at least nine feet out in front and then comes to a gradual stop. You walk along happily tossing in the soup and ketchup and loaves of bread. Grocery shopping is such an easy task, for even when the cart is burdened with goods, it can be directed with one finger.

But buying groceries is not always so blissful. On other occasions, you select a cart that ominously awaits your arrival at the front of the market. When you push the stupid thing forward, it tears off to the left and knocks over a stack of bottles. Refusing to be outmuscled by an empty cart, you throw all your weight behind the handle, fighting desperately to keep the ship on course. It seems to have a mind of its own as it darts toward the eggs and careens back in the direction of a terrified grandmother in green tennis shoes. You are trying to do the same shopping assignment that you accomplished with ease the week before, but the job feels more like combat duty today. You are exhausted by the time you herd the contumacious cart toward the checkout counter.

What is the difference between the two shopping baskets? Obviously, one has straight, well-oiled wheels that go where they are guided. The other has crooked, bent wheels that refuse to yield.

Do you get the point? We might as well face it; some kids have crooked wheels! They do not want to go where they are led, because their own inclinations take them in other directions. Furthermore, the parent who is pushing the cart must expend seven times the energy to make it move, compared with the parent of a child with straight wheels. (Only mothers and fathers of strong-willed children will fully comprehend the meaning of this illustration.)

But how is the strength of the will distributed among children? My original assumption was that this aspect of human temperament is represented by a typical bell-shaped curve. In other words, I presumed that a relatively small number of very compliant kids appeared at one end of the continuum and an equally small number of defiant youngsters were represented at the other. The rest, comprising the majority, were likely to fall somewhere near the middle of the distribution.

Don’t take this observation too literally. Maybe it only seems that the majority of toddlers are confirmed anarchists. Furthermore, there is a related phenomenon regarding sibling relationships that I have never been able to explain. When there are two children in the family, one is likely to be compliant and the other defiant. Who knows why it works out that way. There they are, born to the same parents, but as different as though they came from different planets. One cuddles to your embrace and the other kicks you in the navel. One is a natural sweetheart and the other goes through life like hot lava. One follows orders and the other gives them. Quite obviously, they are marching to a different set of drums.

Former U.S. president Franklin Roosevelt was clearly a strong-willed child and grew up to be a very strong-willed man. When he was a boy, he once strung a string across the top of the stairs where it could not be seen. Predictably, his nurse came along carrying a supper tray and tripped, making what must have been a spectacular plunge downward. The record does not reveal what punishment he received for this wicked trick. We are told, however, that Franklin was very bossy with his peers and that he liked to win at everything. When he was once scolded for the way he treated other children, he said, “Mummie, if I didn’t give the orders, nothing would happen.”1 That is a strong-willed child.

Temperamental differences often create serious relational problems within the family. The strong-willed child faces constant discipline and is subjected to many threats and finger-wagging lectures, while his angelic brother, little Goody Two-shoes, polishes his halo and soaks up the warmth of parental approval. They are pitted against each other by the nature of their divergent personalities and may spend a lifetime scratching and clawing one another. (Chapter 9 offers specific suggestions regarding the problem of sibling rivalry and conflict.)

I have described the approach to life taken by the tougher kids. Let’s look quickly at the easygoing child, who spends most of his time trying to make his parents happy. In reality, he needs their praise and approval; thus his personality is greatly influenced by this desire to gain their affection and recognition. A word of displeasure or even the slightest frown from his parents can disturb him. He is a lover, not a fighter.

A few years ago I talked with the mother of one of these pleasant kids. She was concerned about the difficulties her son was having in nursery school. He was being bullied every day by the more aggressive children, but it was not within him to defend himself. Thus, each afternoon when his mother came to get him, he had been whacked and harassed again by these other boys. Even the girls were joining in the fun.

“You must defend yourself!” his mother said again and again. “Those other children will keep hitting you until you make them stop!”

Each day she urged her little lover to be more assertive, but it contradicted his nature to do so. Finally, his frustration became so great that he began reaching for the courage to follow his mother’s advice. As they rode to school one morning he said, “Mom! If those kids pick on me again today, I’m—I’m—I’m going to beat them up! Slightly.”

How does one beat up someone else “slightly”? I don’t know, but it made perfect sense to this compliant child. He didn’t want to use any more force than was absolutely necessary to survive. Why? Because he had a peace-loving nature. His parents didn’t teach it to him. It was rooted deep within his psyche.

I must make it clear that the compliant child is not necessarily wimpy or spineless. That fact is very important to our understanding of his nature and how he differs from his strong-willed sibling. The distinction between them is not a matter of confidence, willingness to take risks, sparkling personalities, or other desirable characteristics. Rather, the issue under consideration here is focused on the strength of the will—on the inclination of some children to resist authority and determine their own course, as compared with those who are willing to be led. It is my supposition that these temperaments are prepackaged before birth and do not have to be cultivated or encouraged. They will make themselves known soon enough.

By the way, there is another category of temperaments in children that some parents will recognize instantly. These kids are not really strong-willed—at least, their assertiveness is not expressed in the same way. The distinction here is not one of independence and aggressiveness. It is a matter of tactics. They rarely challenge the authority of their parents or teachers in a stiff-necked manner, but they are willful nonetheless. I call them “sneaky.” Adults think these youngsters are going along with the program, but inside, there’s subversion afoot. When no one is looking, they break the rules and push the limits. When caught, as inevitably they are, they may lie or rationalize or seek to hide the evidence. The appropriate approach to these sneaky kids is not appreciably different from handling the strong-willed child. Sooner or later, his or her self-will can be expected to break into the open, usually during early adolescence. Then it’s “Katie, bar the door.”

I’ll close this introductory chapter by offering two more observations for parents who are raising strong-willed children. First, it is very common for these moms and dads to feel great guilt and self-condemnation. They are trying so hard to be good parents, but the struggle for control that goes on at home day after day leaves them frustrated and fatigued. No one told them that parenthood would be this difficult, and they blame themselves for the tension that arises. They had planned to be such loving and effective parents, reading fairy tales by the fireplace to their pajama-clad angels, who would then toddle happily off to bed. The difference between life as it is and life as it ought to be is distressing. We’ll talk more about that presently.

Second, I have found that the parents of compliant children don’t understand their friends with defiant youngsters. They intensify guilt and embarrassment by implying, “If you would raise your kids the way I do mine, you wouldn’t be having those awful problems.” May I say to both groups that willful children can be difficult to manage even when parents handle their responsibilities with great skill and dedication. It may take several years to bring such a youngster to a point of relative obedience and cooperation within the family unit, and indeed a strong-willed child will be a strong-willed individual all her life. While she can and must be taught to respect authority and live harmoniously with her neighbors, she will always have an assertive temperament. That is not a bad thing. It simply “is.” During the childhood years, it is important for parents not to panic. Don’t try to “fix” your tougher boy or girl overnight. Treat that child with sincere love and dignity, but require him or her to follow your leadership. Choose carefully the matters that are worthy of confrontation, then accept her challenge on those issues and win decisively. Reward every positive, cooperative gesture she makes by offering your attention, affection, and verbal praise. Then take two aspirin and call me in the morning.

Well, that is the subject of our discussion. In the chapters to come, we will explore ways of leading the toughie, approaches to discipline at each age level, reasons why he is the way he is, and many other aspects of child rearing. There’s so much to share.

Before pressing on, however, let me give you an update on our little dachshund, Siggie, whom people still ask me about. This delightful dog lived for seventeen years and gave our family so much pleasure, despite his revolutionary tendencies. Shortly before he died, some teenagers drove through our neighborhood at three o’clock in the morning and tossed a hapless pup out of their car. She showed up at our front door the next morning, scared, hungry, and lost. We didn’t want another dog at the time, even though Siggie had seen his better days. We were especially disinterested in owning a cur whose daddy had been a traveling man. Nevertheless, we couldn’t bring ourselves to take her to the pound. While we were trying to find her another home, we fell head over heels in love with this gentle, vulnerable animal that our daughter named Mindy.

Mindy grew to become the most beautiful, noble dog I’ve ever owned. She simply had no will of her own, except to do the bidding of her masters. Probably because of the unknown horrors of her puppyhood, she could not stand any expression of displeasure on my part. If scolded, she would jump in my lap and hide her eyes in the crook of my arm. Her only wish was to be with her human companions. Many times as I sat reading or studying at my desk, Mindy would quietly slip in beside me and rest her head on my knee. I’ll tell you, I’m a sucker for any living thing with that kind of need. When forced to stay outside, Mindy would sit and stare at us through the family-room window. My wife would get uncomfortable with the dog’s pleading brown eyes focused on her every move, so she actually pulled down the shades. Then Shirley would mutter in exasperation, “Mindy, get a life!”

An incident occurred several years later that illustrated Mindy’s sweet nature. Our family had gone on a two-week vacation and left her alone in the backyard. A neighbor boy came by once each day to feed her and give her fresh water. Thus, her physical needs were met, but we underestimated the loneliness she must have experienced throughout those fourteen days. Why else would this forty-pound dog have gone into our garage and dug through the boxes of toys that our children, Danae and Ryan, had outgrown? She found the stuffed animals that had long since been discarded and brought them one at a time to her bed near the house. When we arrived home, Mindy was lying on her blanket with eight of these furry friends arranged in front of her.

I know! I know! No dog deserves the affection our family bestowed on this ol’ hound, and some of my readers will think it foolish. For my part, however, I believe God designed this species specifically for companionship and devotion to man. (Who knows why the Lord made cats?) Surprisingly, it is believed that the death rate for people who have lost a spouse is 500 percent lower the first year for those who own a dog. Take my advice: If you need something to love, go to the nearest pound and look for a furry little pup who’ll think you’re the neatest boss in the world! That’s what Mindy thought about the Dobsons.

But, alas, this beautiful animal is also gone. My wife, Shirley, called her one day and she failed to come. That had never happened before. We found her lying by the side of the house where she had fallen. Mindy died of lymphoma that had spread throughout her body. And so ended a twelve-year love affair between a devoted dog and her affectionate masters. Good-bye, gentle friend.

I have shared these two dog stories, describing Siggie and Mindy, to illustrate the difference in temperaments between the two animals we have loved. One of them was determined to run the world and the other was deliriously happy just to be part of the family. They represented opposite ends of the canine universe.

Well, I hope the analogy is clear. In this book, we’re focusing not on dogs but on the varied and infinitely complex personalities of children. We’ll talk in subsequent chapters about what those temperaments mean for parents and how that understanding helps us raise our children properly.

(By the way, I was only kidding when I asked why God created cats. It was a joke. Honest. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t write and say hateful things to me. Like Mindy, I can’t stand to be criticized.)

Chapter 2 MOTHERS SHARE THEIR STORIES

There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very good indeed,

But when she was bad, she was horrid.1

TO BETTER UNDERSTAND the nature of strong-willed children (and I am referring now to those who are very strong-willed), I invited several parents into the Focus on the Family radio studio a few years ago to discuss their experiences in child rearing. What resulted was an enlightening, and sometimes tearful, discussion of these tough-as-nails kids and what it was like dealing with them on a daily basis. If you are not yet convinced that such youngsters exist or that leading them successfully can be one of life’s great challenges, then read on. I think the recollections of the moms you’re about to meet will be insightful and helpful. What follows is a transcript of the interchange that occurred in our studio during a two-hour dialogue.

JCD: First, we are pleased to welcome Debra Merritt, mother of four children. She brought her seventeen-year-old strong-willed daughter, Lizz, with her today, and I’m anxious to get her perspective. Also with us is Kristen Walker, who has four children. And, finally, Joy Solomon is here, who is a homemaker with two grown kids. These three moms have raised ten children between them, and they learned some valuable lessons along the way.

Let me begin by providing the background for this program. Shirley and I went to Alabama for a visit several years ago, and while there, we were invited to have lunch with about twenty people. We happened to be seated across from Joy and her husband, Davey, whom we had never met. Immediately, the four of us found common ground. Joy, what do you remember about that lunch?

Joy: Well, our conversation started when you said, “Hi, I’m Jim,” as if we wouldn’t recognize that voice immediately. I said, “Well, I’m Joy, but I’m surprised you don’t remember me because you lived with us for a while.” You said, “I did?” I said, “Yes, for about three years when we were really struggling with our strong-willed child.” Then you said, “Oh, you have one of those.” I said, “Yes,” and you asked how old he was. I said, “Well, it’s a she and she is now nineteen and doing very well, but we had some dark days along the way—no, we had some very, very dark days back then.”

JCD: That is the reason I asked you to be here today, Joy, because you are the quintessential mother of a strong-willed child. You experienced many of the frustrations that I have written about through the years, including guilt, self-condemnation, and self-doubt.

Joy: All of them.

JCD: How soon after your daughter was born did you know that she was going to be hard to handle?

Joy: I think she slept through the night at maybe fifteen months old. At eighteen months old, you could tell her no and she would fall on the floor, throw a fit, and roll around. We would sit and watch her for a while because we weren’t going to give in. We were going to be strong. She would stand up, and she would have that beautiful angelic face, and she would say, “I’m sorry.” She would come over and lay her head in my lap, and then she would bite me. That was the first clue because it was a manipulation. She made sure that you weren’t worried about what she was going to do, and then she would bite. She was very, very tough.

JCD: Does she know that you’re here today?

Joy: Yes, she does. She has given her permission for me to tell this story. We’ve been on a difficult journey. When you combine a keen intelligence with our daughter’s strong will, and especially when her spirit turned more defiant at sixteen, we were in a world of hurt.

JCD: Now, Joy, I really want you to help folks who have never dealt with a very strong-willed child begin to understand. There are some families with four or six kids, and none of them have a defiant temperament like we are describing. Their children are generally happy, cooperative, and obedient. Such moms and dads are inclined to assume that parents who struggle to maintain control at home are just weak or ineffective. Sometimes that is an accurate assessment, but in other cases, the difficulties result from the nature of a particular child. You need to help people grasp how difficult it can be to raise a defiant youngster. Your daughter didn’t simply disobey occasionally. Every child does that. You were in a war of wills with Dana almost from the very earliest moments of life.

Joy: Yes. I remember a key time for us was when she was five years old and she was a physically strong child. There was an episode where she had been out throwing rocks at cars. I called her in and I said, “Dana, why were you throwing rocks at cars?” She said, “Well, I did warn them. I told them they didn’t belong on my street. As they went down the road I told them if they came back by, that I’d have to throw a rock at their car. So I threw rocks at them.”

I said, “We live on a cul-de-sac. Where were they going?” She had that look that she would give you when you just really weren’t understanding what she was saying, and she said, “That’s not my fault.” What she did was entirely understandable to her. It wasn’t her fault that someone had built the street that way. I took her in to spank her and she said, “You’re not going to spank me. I’m going to wait until my daddy gets home.” Well, you’ve met Davey. He is a large man.

She knew the longer she could put off a spanking, the longer she had to work up her defense. I said, “No, I’m going to spank you now.” She said, “No, you’re not. You will not spank me.” I said, “Yes, I will.” That day, I think, was a terrifying day because I physically could not control her. She threw every ounce of strength and determination into fighting me. It was a battle that probably lasted an hour and a half—and this child was five years old.

JCD: How did it end?

Joy: It ended with me putting her out in the garage. She was walking around screaming. Then she rang the doorbell, and she said, “I’ll take my spanking now.” I did spank her, because I knew if I ever let her win one of those battles, I would never have control of her again. But it was a constant struggle.

I went to see a good friend of ours, a pastor in Columbus, and said to him, “I’m at my wit’s end. I don’t know how to control this child.” He said, “Every night when you put her to bed, I want you and Davey to go in and lay your hands on her while she’s asleep. What you’re going to pray is for the Holy Spirit to conquer the strong will while not destroying her spirit, because that’s what makes Dana who she is.”

We did that every night. We would go in and pray over her and lay hands on her. It was about six months later she got up one morning and she said, “You know, I’m bad sometimes.” I said, “I know.” She said, “I don’t mean the things I say. I’m not going to do that anymore.” For about the next ten years, she was able to control it. Then she hit adolescence.

JCD: When we were having lunch together in Alabama, you told me a story that I want you to share. It involved your son, who decided to run away from home.

Joy: We called it lovingly “the Dr. Dobson spiel,” where I would say, “Oh, Mother loves you so much, and you have to be my big boy.” I would go through that every time he would say, “I’m going to run away from home.” Well, one night it just struck me, “Okay, this is it.” So he was in his little pajamas and he said, “If you make me go to bed, I’m going to run away from home.” So I said, “Well, we’ll see you later, buddy. Have a nice trip.” So he walked out the door but quickly rang the doorbell, and he said, “I didn’t mean tonight.” I said, “Well, I do. I am really tired of this. It’s time for you to go, but let me pack you a bag. You’ll need pajamas and things.”

He said, “Well, I might need to think about this.” I said, “Well, you’ve got about three minutes while I go pack your bag. It’s important to me that you stay here and be our son, but this is your decision. Either you run away, or I never want to hear you threaten to leave again. If you decide to live here, I don’t want you to threaten to leave again.” So I went and packed the suitcase. I don’t think I put anything in it. I went back, and I opened the door, and he said, “Well, I’ve been thinking about it and I guess I’m gonna stay.” I said, “But never say that to me again, do you understand?” He said, “Yes, ma’am.” From then on, he would say, “If you make me do that, I . . . I . . . I’m not going to be your best friend.” I’d say, “Well, that’s sad.”

What works for one has to work for the other, right? I was a stay.at-home mom and Dana was going through her own “I’m going to run away from home” routine. So one night I had had it, and I said, “Well, I’ll see you later.” It’s funny the pictures that stay in your mind. She had on a Strawberry Shortcake robe and Strawberry Shortcake slippers, and her little blonde hair. Then she walked out the door. I went and sat down and Davey looked at me and he said, “Well, she’s been out there about five minutes. Do you think—you know—maybe she should have rung the doorbell by now?” I said, “No, she’s got that defiant spirit. We’re going to give her about ten minutes.” Then I went to the front door. There was nobody there. She was gone. By the grace of God, we lived on a cul-de-sac, because there was a street lamp and she was underneath it with her thumb out. She was hitching a ride! (laughter and surprise from the panel)

JCD: How old was she then?

Joy: She was six at the time and she had no fear whatsoever. There she was in her robe and slippers and nothing else. She was going to leave with no other clothes. I had to drag her into the house kicking and screaming because she was running away. “You told me I could run away.” I thought, This isn’t what I’m supposed to be dealing with!

JCD (to the listening audience): Can you see why I wanted Joy here? I wanted people to understand that children who have Dana’s brand of fortitude and determination are tough to handle, even if the parents use great wisdom and tact in raising them. A compliant child would never pull a stunt like that, but for the strong-willed youngster, it was just another challenge—just another opportunity to do battle—because they just love to go toe-to-toe with their parents. They get their kicks by playing power games. That is what was happening in this instance.

I want to hear about Dana’s adolescent years, Joy, but first, let me ask Kristen to tell us her story.

Kristen: Well, in hindsight, I think we knew shortly after birth that our daughter, Lizz, was strong-willed. At ten days old she was taken to the hospital with a case of spinal meningitis. As they were trying to get a spinal tap from her, she would arch her back instead of compliantly lying in a fetal position. They had to hold her down at ten days of age. The technicians ended up trying ten or twelve times before they could get untainted spinal fluid to culture so they could verify that she really had spinal meningitis. In fact, it was so bad they ended up going through a vein in her skull to get a sample. Then at eighteen months of age, we were visiting some friends for dinner. My two older kids were there, and our hostess had cut-glass candy dishes at each end of her couch. They didn’t have any children yet so they could risk having something that fragile sitting out.

I told my two oldest children, “These are glass. They’ll break. Don’t touch them. Don’t play rough around here.” I didn’t even mention them to Lizz. I thought, I’ll deal with that when the time comes. When she finally saw the candy dishes after dinner, we told her emphatically, “No, you’re not going to touch that.” And again I said with conviction, “No, we’re not going to touch it.” After the battle was over, my friend said, “Do you realize, you slapped her hand nine times before she yielded?”

JCD: Did she eventually obey you?

Kristen: Yes, for that moment.

JCD: But she was saying emphatically, “I think I can outlast you.”

Kristen: Oh yes. But the biggest fight we fought happened when she was five. I had been homeschooling the kids. Lizz decided she wasn’t getting enough attention one day. So I pulled her up on my lap. While she was sitting on my lap and I was still trying to teach, she started kicking me with one of her legs. Well, I put her leg between my legs so she couldn’t kick me anymore. Then she started kicking me with the other leg. I put both legs between mine, and she started pinching and scratching.

We ended up on the floor. She was actually spread-eagle on the floor. I was holding her down so that she could not hurt me or try to do damage to me. She was screaming, “Let go of me, let go of me,” and I was saying, “We’re here until you calm down.” She’d quit crying and I’d start to pray, and she’d immediately start to scream again, “Don’t you pray for me.” So we’d start again. It turned out to be a forty-five-minute battle.

JCD: Lizz, do you remember that?

Lizz: I remember several times when I would just argue and end up on the floor with Mother on top of me. I was thinking, Who’s going to win?! So it went on and on—I mean, it seemed like hours, sometimes.

JCD: Do you remember how you felt during those battles?

Lizz: I was just determined to win. My pride got in there too, you know? I believed I was stronger than Mom, and it was all about being rebellious and getting my own way.

JCD (to the radio audience): We’re hearing some classic examples today of the battle of wills between parents and children. I have been witnessing conflicts of this sort within families for the past thirty years. What Lizz said about her determination to win over her mother goes right to the heart of what these little revolutionaries are after. Standing up to a big, powerful adult who is supposed to be in charge is fun for them. The winner of the “game,” as every strong-willed child knows intuitively, is the one who either comes out on top or who reduces the other to tears. Quiet conversations and gentle explanations simply don’t work.

Some authors contend that a child only acts naughty when she is frustrated over her circumstances. That certainly happens. But what we are dealing with in the illustrations we’re hearing about today were not incidents motivated by frustration; they were driven by willful defiance.

[We’ll talk more about that behavior and the proper parental response to it in subsequent chapters.]

Debra, let’s hear your stories. Tell us about your strong-willed child.

Debra: Well, I had two of them, but one was really tough: I knew she was a strong-willed child before she was born. She was part of a twin set. I wanted her twin brother to be the football player and my daughter to be the nice, sweet, little cheerleader. As it turned out, she is the one being recruited by the football team, and my son is a wonderful child who writes tender poetry. He’ll be the best pediatrician in the whole world. So my kids kind of flip-flopped.

The night before they were born, I was scheduled for a C-section because I don’t dilate. I was playing table games with some friends next door, and I had this eruption, like a volcano or an earthquake, in my stomach. I know that it’s probably not possible, but I swear my daughter switched places with my son. He was the lower child so he was expected to come out first, and she just went “shoo.” I had this horrible experience the next morning. I woke up in a pool of blood. My baby girl was going to come out of that cervix whether it dilated or not. I was raced to the hospital and taken into emergency surgery. My daughter was going to come out no matter what the obstacles. So talk about being born smoking a cigar, yelling orders at the nursing staff, complaining about the temperature—that was my baby girl.

JCD: What was her babyhood like?

Debra: She was a challenge from the very first day! I had a five-year-old and a three-year-old, and then the twins were born. No grandparents lived close by. They would come and visit and help us, but I was a very busy young mother.

Christina would scream and scream and scream. I thought, Well, she’s sick. She must have medical problems, such as colic or whatever. But then her dad would walk in the room and she would start baby flirting and cooing. You know, that sweet little thing. All she wanted was her dad. So I thought, You can raise this child. I’ll raise the other three. Because she’s stronger willed than I am by a long shot.

JCD: How difficult was that for you emotionally?

Debra: It was very difficult because I was a mother at heart. I’d always wanted to be a mom. I had good relationships with my other children. My second is precious. She does what she can to help me and to serve. She’s just a wonderful child. Then I get this child who’s like . . . well, my in-laws and others call her “the kid and a half.”

JCD: There are very few experiences in life, I believe, that are more stressful than bringing a child into the world with one major goal—and that’s to be a good mom or dad. You pour every effort and every resource into that assignment, only to have your beloved child reject your leadership almost from birth and engage in a never-ending battle of wills. That is terribly painful. It produces great guilt and self-condemnation, especially for the parents who care the most.

Debra: You’re right. I believe firmly that strong-willed children love conflict. They just love the battle, and I don’t love the battle. It was a very difficult experience for me because I’m not strong willed.

JCD: I conducted an extensive survey on this subject some years ago that involved thirty-five thousand parents. One of the things we observed was the enormous agitation that occurs when a compliant, loving mother, who would never have dreamed of disobeying her parents, gives birth to a kid who gets his greatest thrill out of fighting with his mother. Debra, you have tears in your eyes, don’t you?

Debra: I do have tears in my eyes. But let me tell you a funny story. My husband and I used to count to three, and if the kids had not minded by then, they would have to face the wooden spoon. But, unfortunately, my kids are all very strong willed. One morning I put Elizabeth in her high chair so I could feed her. I was giving her Cheerios and fun things to eat. I was working around the house and I just wanted to keep her busy. Well, at some point during that time she became impatient, so she said, “Mother, I want to eat now. One, two, three . . . ”

JCD: She was counting you down.

Debra: Right. And by the time she hit two, I had her dinner ready and my husband walked in the door. And I said, “John, it works. I had done everything that she wanted me to do before she got to three.” (laughter)

Debra: And he said, “Yeah, that’s all we need—a compliant mother and a strong-willed child.” (laughter)

JCD: Joy, you saw the tears in Debra’s eyes a minute ago.

Joy: Yes.

JCD: Did you ever cry when your daughter took you on?

Joy: I cried a lot when she was young. I cried even more during the teenage years. I was so shy as a child. And to please my parents was my greatest accomplishment in life—to make them proud of me and to please them. But Dana didn’t feel that way about me. She could turn her back on me in a heartbeat. She was so tough. One day at preschool, there was a young handicapped boy whom the teachers were mainstreaming. Dana immediately befriended this child. More than anyone else in the class, she was drawn to that child. Another boy was making fun of this child, and Dana said, “I’m only going to warn you once. Don’t make fun of him again, or I’m going to have to beat you up.” Well, he came back and made fun of him again, and Dana said, “This was your last warning; I only give two warnings. Don’t make fun of him again.” Well, he came back, and before she was through with him, she had dragged him up one side of the playground and down the other. She had torn his shirt. She had torn his shorts, and he was screaming for Dana to let him go. And the teachers finally got ahold of her and said, “Dana, did you not hear him asking you to let him go?” And she said something I had said to her repeatedly, “I refuse to negotiate with a four-year-old.” It came right back to me.

JCD: It is interesting that the same strong will that parents have to deal with is often expressed with peers. That temperament can be advantageous as the years unfold, because these youngsters are tough enough to withstand peer pressure and chart their own course.

This gets really personal, but tell me, Lizz, have you ever seen your mom cry in a moment of conflict?

Lizz: Hardly ever.

JCD: Kristen, you’re obviously not a crier. But can you understand why the other two ladies here were so emotional?

Kristen: Oh yes, oh yes.

JCD: You just didn’t express it the same way.

Kristen: I didn’t express it in tears. I think I became more strong willed . . .

JCD: In order to cope with it?

Kristen: Yes—in order to cope with it. I’ve always wanted to please people. I still do but I was bound and determined that my children were not going to defeat me in anything. Yet there were days and weeks when all I did was defend my right to lead. My entire days were consumed with disciplining Lizz and trying to get her to follow the rules the way we had laid them out.

JCD: And the other children were not behaving quite that way.

Kristen: Oh no, no, not at all. You’d tell my oldest and my youngest not to do something, and they’d look up at you with their big blue eyes, and they’d say, “Oh, Mommy, I’m sorry.” And they’d never do it again. Lizz would say, “Let’s go for it.”

JCD: There are millions of kids like you, Lizz, which raises an interesting question. Many parents have asked me whether their children’s rebellious behavior is the result of parental mistakes and poor judgment, or whether there is something else responsible for it. Well, clearly, some moms and dads are more effective at handling kids than others are, and some of them regularly make a mess of things. Their children sometimes respond with increasingly testy behavior. Parenting is just like any other skill. It’s given in greater portions to some than to others. Men, for example, just by their masculine presence, are typically better at handling tough kids than women are. If I may be candid, the three of you here today have described moments when you lost control of your children and were literally fighting physically to deal with your very difficult kids. It would appear that you were making some tactical errors at that point.

Nevertheless, a strong-willed child is a strong-willed child. The kids we are talking about here are born that way, and some of them are so tough that Hulk Hogan couldn’t handle them without a struggle. As I indicated, these particularly contentious kids just love to reduce big powerful adults to tears and leave them shaken and discouraged. Their personalities are rooted in their genetic makeup.

I know I’m not giving Lizz much hope about the children she will bear. (laughter)

Kristen: Sorry, Lizz, you may have the mother’s curse. You may produce a child just like you were.

JCD: Wait ’til you get your own.

Kristen: I’ve taken it further. I said to Lizz, “I hope all of yours are just like you.”

Joy: I disagree. I have told Dana that I hope she never experiences what I went through because that would give me a strong-willed grandchild. (laughter)

JCD: It would, at that.

Joy: So, I’m looking for easier grandchildren.

JCD: Debra, do you have only one tough child?

Debra: Well, I have several who are strong-willed, plus I have one who trained another one to have a strong will. When you have twins and one of them is tough, you have double trouble. When they were little, we had difficulty keeping them in their cribs because Christina did not need to sleep. She was very strong physically. She could climb. She could walk. All my kids walked and ran at ten months old, and she would help her brother get out of the crib in the middle of the night. They were in the house running around unsupervised. And this is where our battles took place.

JCD: How did Christina spring her brother from the crib?

Debra: She would jump out of bed, and then she would collect whatever was in the room and put it in his crib, so he would step up on stuffed animals, or whatever she collected. And then, the two of them would be running loose while we slept.

Now, I was used to my other kids getting out of their crib, and it was no big deal; they would come and cuddle with us. But the twins had each other. They did not want me. We would, literally, find them in the kitchen, in the sink, playing with knives, opening the refrigerator, and throwing things around. It got to the point where keeping them alive was all I could do. I slept outside their door with a pillow and a blanket for a time because they would have to cross over me before they would leave the room. It was the only way I could protect them, and I just prayed for them. Like you, Joy, we laid hands on the kids and said, “Oh, Lord.” I just prayed that they wouldn’t kill themselves when they were little. And that sounds extreme, but it’s true.

JCD: Debra, have you found yourself in moments like that with your face in your hands, saying, “I am a total failure as a mom”?

Debra: I did. I had four children, and a set of twins, and I was tired.

JCD: You just couldn’t fight all the time.

Debra: I couldn’t fight it. I just trusted in the power of prayer. The Lord is good. When my kids became saved and they were baptized by their own choice, they all changed. They all became new people in Christ.

JCD: Isn’t that wonderful?

Debra: And their personalities changed, and that happened at about fourteen or fifteen for each one of them. And, truly, the Lord has done an incredible work, but I can’t take any responsibility for it. I wish I’d been stricter. I wish I’d been firmer, but I did what I could in the midst of very difficult circumstances.

JCD: See, Debra, every one of us is inadequate as a parent. We all have to depend on the Lord. That reality hit me when my daughter was three. I saw that she would eventually make her own choices in life. My Ph.D. in child development was helpful to me, but it would not guarantee the eventual outcome. There are no certainties in raising a child. It is true for all parents. We come to the point where, even in our greatest strength, we have to say, “Lord, I need your help here.” That’s what being a parent is all about.

Did you depend on the Lord that way, Joy?

Joy: Oh, boy, did I ever.

JCD: So, it was a constant battle . . .

Joy: All day long, from the time she woke up until the time she went to bed. And there were times that she would be such an angel. She would be so caring and loving, and I would think, Okay, okay, we’re making progress. We’re making progress. And then, thirty seconds later, one thing would trigger that defiant will, and she would be off and running. There were times, especially for me as a stay-at-home mom, when I felt like such a failure. I felt like, This is a career I chose? It’s like starting a small business and watching it go under. Here I was looking at this child whom God had entrusted to me, and I couldn’t even control her.

JCD: You said that after a period of time you and your husband, Davey, began praying for Dana—laying hands on her at night when she was asleep, and asking the Lord to help you bring that rebellious spirit under subjection. You said God answered those prayers and that Dana was able to control her behavior for four or five years. But you said she later went into adolescence and the rebelliousness resurfaced.

Joy: That is what we refer to as the dark period. She became very unhappy with herself. She didn’t like her personal appearance because she was a heavy child. She had very curly hair, which no one else in our family has. Yet she was very intelligent. So, with the combination of her personality and intelligence, and being unhappy with her looks, she decided she was going to change everything. She began running around with kids who said, “Your parents are still trying to control you. Your parents don’t really want you to be happy. Your parents want to live your life for you. They don’t want you to leave home.” She found a boyfriend who told her this and everything she wanted to hear. He said, “You’re wonderful, but your parents don’t understand you.” And because she was so needy at that time, she became totally addicted to that relationship.

When I think back on our conversation in Alabama, I remember that you asked me if Dana had gotten into drugs and alcohol, and I said I didn’t think so. And you said, “Well, we need to thank God for that.” And I said, “We do, but when your child is addicted to a relationship, there is no help available.” There was really nothing we could do about Dana’s dependence on this guy, but it was as destructive as anything she could have been involved in.

JCD: How long did it go on?

Joy: Two and a half years.

JCD: And during that time, what were you doing?

Joy: I was crying every day. School didn’t matter. (crying) I’m sorry.

JCD: That’s all right.

Joy: She lost her relationship with her family and with God. School didn’t matter. Soccer didn’t matter, which had been a tremendous part of her life. The only thing that she could see in her future was that young man, and she totally built her life—her future life— around him. Her total existence depended on him.

JCD: Were you fasting and praying during that time?

Joy: We fasted. We prayed. We went for counseling. I was working at a Christian outlet store and people would come in—wonderful people—and they would say, “How are you doing today?” And I would say, “Fine, thanks, how are you?” One of the problems we had with Dana at that time was [that she was] lying constantly about everything. But I was lying too. I thought, I lie every day. Every time I tell somebody that we’re doing wonderful, thanks, I’m lying too. Finally, I turned to someone who had asked that question and I said, “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to burden you with my problems, but I need to tell you I’m not okay. I’m losing a child.” (weeping)

JCD: There are so many parents out there who have been through something like this, and others that are there right now. Some good, solid Christian families are crying with us today because they’re experiencing the same thing. Most would give their lives for their children in a heartbeat. They’ve done everything they know to do, and they can’t fix it. But the Lord still hears and answers prayer, and, Joy, He was hearing you all that time, wasn’t He?

Joy: He heard all of my prayers, every one of them. The people who carried my child to the mercy seat, I can never thank them enough. There are no words to describe my gratitude, because the relationship we have with her now is so much better than I ever imagined when she was a child.

JCD: I want to hear more about that in a moment, but, Kristen, what was the low point for you and your husband?

Kristen: We finally had to go to the elders of our church at one point because our daughter would steal. She would take whatever she wanted, and we’d ask, “Lizz, why are you taking something that doesn’t belong to you?” And she’d say, “ ’Cause I want it.” It was just amazing to me that a four- or a five-year-old could articulate the bottom line like that: “I wanted it. I took it.” She’d steal money from the church or from the offering plate to buy a Coke from the Coke machine, and she stole some of the decorations out of the bathroom—just a little cinnamon stick, but she wanted it; therefore, she took it.

It got to the point where we took her back to the Scripture. My husband sat down with her and said, “This is what the Bible says. You’ve got to obey the leaders in your life, and if you don’t, we’ve got to take you to a higher authority.” And he went to the elders of our church and asked a couple of them who had children if they would be willing to sit down with Lizz. At that time, she was probably in kindergarten, maybe first grade. And these two godly men sat down with her and made her accountable—made her memorize Scripture. She had gotten to the point where she needed to know that there was a higher authority. That’s why we went to the elders.

JCD: Lizz, that had a big impact on you, didn’t it?

Lizz: Extremely, yes.

JCD: What do you remember about that time?

Lizz: I remember just being thoroughly embarrassed and having to be responsible for what I did to someone else and having to “’fess up” to that responsibility. Until probably second grade, I would take things from my teachers. I would get into their desks. If they had food in there, I would take their food. And I stole my kindergarten teacher’s earrings. And eventually . . . you know, I was thinking, Who cares? I’ll be disciplined, but who cares? And the discipline didn’t bother me. It was when they said, “Okay, you have to go to your teacher. You have to go to the elders, and you have to apologize for doing that.” And that’s when I thought, Oh no! It was embarrassing and humbling, and I realized what I had done.

JCD: Punishment was not something that deterred you in any way.

Lizz: Didn’t faze me, not a bit.

JCD: You just figured out a way to get around it.

Lizz: Uh-huh.

JCD: It was a challenge for you.

Lizz: Yeah. If I got grounded from the phone, I’d try to get on the phone. If I got grounded from the computer, I’d try to get on the computer. So, it was just something else to be defiant about.

JCD: To the parents who are raising such a child, it is important for you to figure out what the kid is thinking. You have to get behind the eyes of that child and see it the way that he or she sees it. Only then will you have a better idea of how to respond.

You know, Lizz, my mother was able to do that. She knew that I was messing around in school when I was in the ninth grade. I was a big disciplinary problem at that time, but my mother figured out how to get to me. She said one day, “You can behave any way you want to at school, and I’m not going to do anything about it. Nothing, that is, unless the school calls to tell me about it. If they do, I’m going to school with you the next day. I will sit beside you in class, and I will be in the hall when you are standing with your friends. I’m going to be right there all day, and you will not be able to get rid of me.” Man, that shaped me up in a big hurry. That would have been social suicide to have my mom trailing along behind me; I absolutely could not run the risk of her standing around with my friends. It shaped me up in one day.

Joy: A parent has to get very creative in response to the challenges that come his or her way. When we were riding in the family car and Dana was in trouble and knew what was waiting for her at home, she would put both hands on the window and scream at people when we stopped at red lights. She would shout, “Save me! Save me!”

JCD: You are kidding, Joy.

Joy: No, no. I’m not kidding. I was thinking, If the police pull me over, I’m going to have to show them that this really is my child.

JCD: Well, we’ve heard some pretty scary things here today about several very tough kids. But our purpose is not to depress everyone. In fact, there is good news for us to share about each of the children we have discussed. That’s why we’re here, because there is reason for hope. And, Joy, the update on your story that you shared with me when we met in Alabama is very inspirational. As we sat at the table, you took a crumpled piece of paper out of your purse that day and read something to me.

Joy: I did.

JCD: I don’t think you intended to share that note with me on that day.

Joy: No, I had no idea.

JCD: You just happened to have it with you.

Joy: Well, it didn’t just happen. I take it everywhere I go. I keep this with me. It is such a reminder.

JCD: Tell everyone what the note says.

Joy: Well, Dana was in her first year in college, and she wrote me this note in midyear:

Dear Mom,

Hey there. This is going to be a weird letter. I’ve been doing a lot of lifelong thinking. Mom, sometimes I wonder where I would be and what life would be like if I hadn’t come back from the dark side. You know, I never thought that I would consider my mother to be my best friend, but you are. I would never trade this closeness I’ve gained with you for anything in the world. You and Dad used to say that if I would just wait until it was time for me to move out, that you would be behind me 100 percent. Now I understand. I know that you and I were growing, even when I was at home, but I don’t think that I ever truly appreciated you until now. At least, not as much as you deserve to be appreciated. I miss you every day. I mean, I thought that when I went to school that I would never want to go home or even call. But I don’t like to go through the day without talking to you. You know, I hope that one day I will be as successful as Daddy. I want to be as keen and respected in my field as he is in his. But you, above all, had the hardest profession of all. You had to raise me. Mom, I hope that you understand what a gift God gave you. He gave you the will and the power to raise me. You showed me the kinds of things that no college or professional school could ever teach me. I can only pray that one day God will make me the kind of mother you have been and will always be to me. I just wanted to take a minute to say, “Thank you” and “I love you.”

(Joy was crying as she read.)

JCD: Oh, Joy. That was worth a million dollars, wasn’t it? Would you have ever believed that Dana would send you a loving letter like that when you were going through your struggles with her?

Joy: Never.

JCD: Lizz, do you sense a mother’s heart here?

Lizz: Yes, very much.

JCD: That’s what you’ve heard today.

Lizz: Um-hmm.

JCD: Do you want to be a mother someday?

Lizz: Absolutely.

JCD: And can you imagine bringing a child into the world as dedicated to your baby as you hope to be, and then having this kind of conflict take place?

Lizz: I’m sure it’ll happen. I do want to say one thing about strong-willed children like me. God has this amazing, amazing way of saying, “I want you, and I want you to be strong-willed for Me.” And instead of being rebellious and disobedient, He wants us to be strong-willed for Him.

JCD: Do you remember actually having those thoughts?

Lizz: Oh, absolutely. I went out with a bunch of my friends, and I was being stupid. And I had come home, and then I just sat down, and I just felt the presence of God. I looked at myself, and I was thinking, “My life has been pointless. I’ve spent all of my life being strong-willed and wanting to win every battle.” And then, God just grabbed me. It was as though He said, “Leave it behind, Lizz,” you know?

JCD: Kristen, you were praying for Lizz at that time, weren’t you?

Kristen: Oh, I am a lot like Joy. We had all prayed as a family. Her grandparents have been faithful prayer partners. Rich and I pray continually for her. Everybody we know . . . we have not hidden from her the fact that she has been a strong-willed child, so, it is not necessarily an uncommon topic of conversation among people whom we have dealt with this. So, yes, we’ve had many people praying as well. I am really blessed by the fact that I have seen what God can do and still have time with my daughter to build a relationship that every parent wants. So, I do cry when I think about that.

JCD: Debra, you were praying during your difficulties too, weren’t you?

Debra: Oh yes, and my oldest daughter, who’s getting married in a month, has become the mentor for my second strong-willed child, and that has been an answer to prayer because their relationship was tainted. When you’re an only child or a firstborn child and then your position is usurped by a younger sister, that’s a big deal. And so, they were not friends when my oldest daughter was in high school. But now they have become close friends. Elizabeth has mentored Christina to where she is today. And she helped her understand herself and her place in the family.

We had a similar experience last summer. Christina had just gone crazy. I listened to her scream at me until about two in the morning for no reason. And, all of a sudden, it was like the Holy Spirit came over her, and she started repeating things that I would have said to her if I had been talking. And she said, “Mom, I will fight a battle all the way because I want to win.” But, she said, “Don’t ever be scared to put boundaries in my way because I need rules. I need boundaries. And I respect everything you’ve done—”

And then she said something else. She said, “I know who I am in God. And I know that I will make right choices.” She said, “I’ve had a bad year. I’m going to change this next year,” and she has. She’s a different person this year. She said, “You have trained me well. You have given me the stability of a Christian school and a church and a Christian family.” She said, “I will choose wisely, and I want to live my life because you’ve modeled it for me with Jesus.”

JCD: Let me say it again: I’m telling our listeners and readers that there is hope here. That is the reason I wanted to address this topic on our program. On their behalf, I want to ask you, the three mothers here, a very important question. The Scripture says that children are a blessing from the Lord. Do you still feel that way, even though raising your kids was a struggle for you? Was it worth it?

Joy: Children are a treasure. That is what I told my children when they were young. . . . But, for a while, Dana forgot that, or she didn’t seem to believe it. Now, I think she is to the point where she understands that she truly is a treasure to us. The strong will that she has will be an asset to her in life. She wants to be an attorney. That will be wonderful, because she’ll argue with a rock. (laughter)

JCD: And the Lord’s going to use that temperament.

Joy: I believe He will. I am so blessed.

JCD: How about the other two?

Kristen: Worth every minute, every battle, every ounce of energy that I put into it. I would never, never trade anything.

JCD: Debra?

Debra: One of my children’s names means “house of God,” another means “great woman of God,” and the third means “precious gift of God.” So, I did tell each of them that they were gifts. I didn’t know if I could have children. They were all tremendous miracles and blessings. Absolutely, every minute was worth it, even the conflicts we had, because I know that God is sufficient, I know He’s able, and I know He’s going to use them mightily.

JCD: You know, anyone can raise the easy kids. I’m reminded of a very difficult time when I was asked to interview convicted serial murderer Ted Bundy at the Florida State Prison. We had more than nine hundred requests for media appearances in three days, and there was tremendous pressure on me. Added to that was the emotion of dealing with a man who had killed at least twenty-eight women and girls in cold blood. I remember the morning before I went to talk to Bundy that I didn’t want to do it. At that point the Lord seemed to speak to me, and He said, I sent you to do this job because I knew you could handle it. I selected you for this difficult assignment.

This is my point. When parents bring one of these tough youngsters into the world, they need to recognize that while raising that child may be difficult for a time, it is worth their effort to do the job right. Their attitude should be, “The Lord gave me this challenging child for a purpose. He wants me to mold and shape this youngster and prepare him or her for a life of service to Him. And I’m up to the task. I’m going to make it with the Lord’s help.” That’s the healthy way of looking at parenting when the pressure is on. There is a tendency, I think, for parents of strong-willed children to feel cheated and oppressed because other moms and dads seem to have smooth sailing with their children, whereas they are at war every day of the week. But if they can perceive their task as a God-given assignment and believe that He’s going to help them to fulfill it, then the frustrations become more manageable.

Let me give you one other word of encouragement. Just as the three mothers have now experienced, most strong-willed children tend to come around when they get through adolescence. Don’t be too quick as a parent to brand yourself as a failure. Kids do grow up, and you will find out later that the values and principles that you tried so hard to instill were actually going inside and sticking. It may be that your difficult children will become your best friends, as it is now for Joy and Dana, if . . . if you persevere. So, when your child’s behavior is saying “I hate you” in every way possible, hang in there. Keep your courage. Don’t panic. Better days are coming.

Joy: We were at home one day recently and Dana was home. She said, “Why did you never give up on me?” And I said, “Because you’re a treasure. God gave you to us. I could never have given up on you.” She said, “A lot of people would.” And I said, “Not if they believed in the power of God and the power of prayer, because I wasn’t sure how soon it was going to be, but I always believed that you would come back.” I had tremendous hope and faith.

Another thing happened when Dana was at home. She said, “You know, I remember one night when it was really, really bad, and there was a big fight. You were crying. I got used to you crying because you did it all the time.” But then Dana said what really got to her that night was that she made her daddy cry. Her father’s tears touched her heart. (There were tears around the table at that point.)

JCD: Debra, what advice do you have for the mother out there today who is experiencing what you were feeling when your kids were small?

Debra: Well, I think what I’m going to do is quote your book. I think it’s page 24 of The Strong-Willed Child. You said, in effect, “Pick your battles. Win decisively. Take two aspirin and call me in the morning.” (laughter)

JCD: Well, do all that, but don’t call me. (laughter)

Debra: I think I lived on your broadcasts when my children were little. I used to wash my floors and pick up the food that had been thrown on the floor while they were eating, and I would sob through the broadcasts. But it helped me because I knew that other people were also struggling. I knew that God was in control, and I knew there were people out there who understood.

Now I go to people like Kristen, because we share an office together, and we talk about our strong-willed daughters, and we pray for you very regularly, and we watch you, and we love you, and we nurture you together.

JCD: The folks here at Focus on the Family get the credit for that, but this is why we’re here. A reporter came to my office yesterday for an interview about the ministry. As far as I know, she is not a Christian. After we talked for almost an hour, she asked, “Why do you do this? You’ve said that you care about all those people who reach out for help. Why have you invited hundreds of thousands of them every month to bring their troubles here? Why do you put yourself and your staff through this?” I tried to explain that this is the essence of my Christian faith. Jesus said, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40, KJV). It gives me a great deal of satisfaction to put an arm around a mom who’s depressed or discouraged or hopeless and to offer support and encouragement to her. As I talked, I noticed that this tough reporter got big tears in her eyes. So I’m just thankful that we have this opportunity to express care and concern for those who are hurting. And, Debra, I’m pleased that you were one of them.

Let me say one last thing to you, Lizz. I think you’re going to make a great mom. I can just see it. You’re very bright, and you’re very dedicated, and the fact that you’ve landed on your feet this early is a very good sign. I trust that you will have a good year in school next year, and then go on into college. Then I want you to write your mom an e-mail that will make her cry. She’s not a crier, but I’ll bet you could bring “happy tears” to her eyes.

Joy, you brought a Bible with you today. That’s been your mainstay, hasn’t it?

Joy: It has.

JCD: Well, come back and see us when you’ve got grandkids who are strong-willed children, will you? (laughter)

JCD: Thanks for being with us.

Panel: Thank you.

Final post-interview comments: I’m sure this interchange has been unsettling to some readers, particularly those who have young children and envision a future of all-out warfare with their irritable kids, much like that described by our panel. Let me hasten to say that the children whom we have read about in this chapter are at the far end of the continuum with regard to the strength of the will. Most boys and girls, even those who qualify for the title strong-willed, are less determined and more easily led. My purpose in providing what might be called a worst-case scenario, therefore, is to illustrate the varying ways children respond to authority, and to give hope and direction to those who are, in fact, raising one or more little revolutionaries. The good news, as we saw, is that the outcome even for those youngsters can be positive and deeply satisfying in the long run.

Chapter 3 WHAT MAKES THEM THE WAY

THEY ARE?

HAVING HEARD FROM THE MOTHERS on our panel, who no doubt represent millions of other moms who have struggled to control their children, one has to wonder why so many “experts” on parenting have failed to notice that some children are tougher to raise than others. One would never get that impression from reading the advice offered by this army of permissive psychologists, counselors, pediatricians, psychiatrists, and columnists for women’s magazines, who are convinced that raising kids is as simple as falling off a log. All parents need to do, they have been saying for decades, is give them a lot of space, treat them like adults, and if absolutely necessary, explain every now and then why they might want to consider behaving better. How nice it would be if that were true. Unfortunately, this rosy view is cruel nonsense. It leaves Mom and Dad with the impression that every other parent in the world finds it easy to lead children, and those who are having trouble with it are miserable failures. In most cases, it is not fair and it is not true.

Misguided advice on child rearing has been prominent in the literature for at least seventy-five years. For example, best-selling author of books for parents John Caldwell Holt wrote a terrible text in 1974 entitled Escape from Childhood.1 It was straight out of left field. Jim Stingley reviewed the book for the Los Angeles Times:

In the latest one, [Holt] plainly advocates the overthrow of parental authority in just about every area. He sets forth that children, age whatever, should have the right to: experience sex, drink and use drugs, drive, vote, work, own property, travel, have a guaranteed income, choose their guardians, control their learning, and have legal and financial responsibility. In short, Holt is proposing that parents discard the protectorate position they have held over their children in this and other countries over the past several hundred years, and thrust them, or rather let them thrust themselves—when they feel like they want to—into the real-life world.2

Doesn’t that sound utterly foolish? Even the Los Angeles Times reviewer, a supposedly unbiased journalist, implies that Holt’s ideas are ludicrous. Can you imagine a six-year-old girl driving her own car to an escrow office, where she and her preschool male friend will discuss the purchase of a new home over a martini or two? Can you visualize a teary-eyed mother and father standing in the doorway, saying good-bye to their five-year-old son who has decided to pack his teddy bear and go live with someone else? Have we gone completely mad? Discard the protectorate position, indeed! The surprising thing is that this man and his cockamamy theories were taken seriously by many people during the revolutionary days of the late sixties and seventies. In fact, Holt was quoted in the Times article as saying:

“Oddly enough, the chapter on the matter of drinking and drugs, letting young people do whatever older people do, as well as manage their own sex lives, hasn’t brought as much flak as I would have expected. . . . The understanding, sympathetic responses [from readers] have clearly outweighed the negative or hostile ones,” he said.

About the time the Holt book came along, an article appeared in Family Circle that also revealed the permissiveness of the day. Its title, “A Marvelous New Way to Make Your Child Behave,” should have been the first clue as to the nature of its content.3 (If its recommendations were so fantastic, why hadn’t they been observed in more than five thousand years of parenting?) The subtitle was even more revealing: “Rewards and Punishment Don’t Work.” Those two Pollyannaish headlines revealed the primrose path down which the authors were leading its readers. Never once did they admit that a child is capable of the kind of rebellion described by the three mothers we just met. Instead, the examples given in the article focused on relatively minor incidents of childish irresponsibility, such as a child not washing his hands before dinner or wearing improper clothing or not taking out the garbage. Responsible behavior is a noble objective for our children, but let’s admit that the more difficult task is shaping the child’s will in moments of rebellion.

A more current example of permissive approaches to child rearing is referred to as “positive discipline,” or the “positive parenting” movement. It sounds good, but it is little more than repackaged permissive claptrap. Consider the following advice, featured on the Oklahoma State Department of Health’s “Positive Discipline” Web page. It reads, “The goal of discipline is not to control children and make them obey but to give them skills for making decisions, gradually gaining self-control, and being responsible for their own behavior.” Instead of telling a child, “Don’t hit the kitty” or “Stop kicking the table,” they suggest that parents say, “Touch the kitty gently” or “Keep your feet on the floor.” The Web site goes on to assert that “Giving a child choices allows him some appropriate power over his life and encourages decision making.” Parents are advised to “redirect” childish behavior. For example, if a child is throwing a truck around the house, instead of telling him to stop, they suggest you say to him, “I can’t let you throw your truck, but you may throw the ball outside.” Or if the child is kicking a door, you are to tell him, “You may not kick the door, but you may kick this ball or plastic milk jug.” Their suggestion for dealing with willful defiance is to ignore it or to allow the child to engage in “something pleasant” until he cools off.4

What ridiculous advice that is. Notice how hard the parent is supposed to work to avoid being the leader at home. What’s wrong with explaining to a child exactly what you want him or her to do and expecting obedience in return? Why is it unacceptable for a parent to insist that a child engaging in destructive or irritating behavior immediately cease and desist? Why not tell the child, “Kitties have feelings just like you do. You will not hit the kitty”? A youngster whose parent has never taken charge firmly is being deprived of a proper understanding of his mom’s or dad’s authority. It also keeps him from comprehending other forms of authority that will be encountered when he leaves the safety of his permissive cocoon. Sooner or later, that boy or girl is going to bump into a teacher, a police officer, a Marine Corps drill sergeant, or an employer who never heard of positive discipline and who will expect orders to be carried out as specified. The child who has only heard “suggestions” for alternative behavior through the years, which he may choose to accept or reject, is not prepared for the real world.

Here’s yet another example of bad parental advice, also reflecting the positive discipline philosophy. Lini Kabada, writing for the Knight-Ridder newspaper chain, relayed this advice:

[Karen] Gatewood once spanked and called “time-out.” Now she talks about her children’s feelings. When the girls act up, she sweetly and calmly suggests alternative activities and offers support (“I know you’re sad”) in the midst of tantrums, a touchy-feely technique called “time-in.”

Ms. Gatewood . . . allows what positive-parenting attitudes call “natural and logical consequences” of behavior to flow. For example, [her daughter] Amanda recently wanted to take a favorite piece of string on an outing. Ms. Gatewood warned that she might lose it, but didn’t argue with the child. She allowed the natural and logical consequence to unfold. Sure enough, Amanda lost the string and she cried.

Ms. Gatewood didn’t ignore Amanda’s feelings, as pediatricians suggest in the face of a tantrum. “I said, ‘That is sad. It’s horrible,’ because to her it was horrible. She said, ‘I won’t bring my toys next time.’ ”5

How utterly simplistic and unworkable! Ms. Gatewood doesn’t know much about children apparently, and she is certainly confused about how to manage them. What if little Amanda had wanted to take Mom’s wedding ring on the outing instead of a piece of worthless string? What if she refused to go to bed until she collapsed in exhaustion night after night? What if she began regularly pouring her Cream of Wheat and orange juice into the television set? What if she refused to take necessary medication? Somewhere along the way, parental leadership has to make a showing. Boys and girls must be taught what is and is not acceptable behavior; the responsibility to establish those boundaries is an assignment given to moms and dads by the creator of families. Parents can’t always just wait around for logical consequences to do a job they should be doing themselves.

Of course, logical consequences have a place in child rearing. But one very logical consequence of misbehavior might be sitting his wiggly bottom on a chair with instructions to think about why he must never spit in Mommy’s face or run down a busy street or drive nails in the furniture or try to flush baby sister down the toilet. The “positive-parenting” books don’t admit that these misbehaviors and a thousand others do happen— regularly in some families. They won’t acknowledge that some mothers and fathers go to bed at night with pounding, throbbing headaches, wondering how raising kids became such an exhausting and nerve-racking experience. Instead, the Karen Gatewoods of the world offer squishy advice and touchy-feely explanations, such as “time-in,” that leave parents confused, misinformed, and guilt ridden. My colleague, John Rosemond, with whom I am usually in strong agreement, gave the best assessment of the positive-parenting concept: “That’s horse manure,” he said, “and that’s my most polite term. It’s wimp parenting.”

Let’s examine now a more thorough answer to the fundamental question about willful defiance: Why is it that most children seem to have a need to take on those in authority over them? Why can’t they just be satisfied with quiet discussions and patient explanations and gentle pats on the head? Why won’t they follow reasonable instructions and leave it at that? Good questions.

I hope I have made the case by now that willfulness is built into the nature of some kids. It is simply part of their emotional and intellectual package brought with them into the world. This aspect of inborn temperament is not something boys and girls learn. It is something they are. Mothers know this instinctively. Virtually every mom with two or more children will affirm that she noticed differences in their personality—a different “feel”—the first time she held them. They’ll tell you that some of them were tough and some were easy. But each was unique.

The early authorities in the field of child development denied what their eyes told them. They thought they had a better idea, concluding that babies come into the world devoid of individuality. Children, they said, are blank slates upon which the environment and experience will be written. John Locke and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, among others, promoted this notion and thereby confused the scientific understanding of children for decades. Most of the best-known psychologists in the world ascribed to this theory at one time or another, and many are still influenced by it. The more accurate view, however, based on careful research, recognizes that while experience is very important in shaping the human personality, the “blank slate” hypothesis is a myth. Children don’t start life at the same place. They bring with them an individuality that is uniquely their own, different from that of every other individual who has ever lived. Let me say again that one of their innate characteristics is what I have termed “the strength of the will,” which varies from child to child. If you have regular contact with children, you will be able to see this aspect of temperament, more or less, in living color.

A classic study of inborn temperaments was conducted more than twenty-five years ago by psychiatrists Stella Chess and Alexander Thomas and outlined in their excellent book, Know Your Child.6 The authors reported that not only do babies differ significantly from one another at the moment of birth, but those differences tend to be rather persistent throughout childhood. Even more interestingly, they observed three broad categories or patterns of temperaments into which the majority of children can be classified. First, they referred to the “difficult child,” who is characterized by negative reactions to people, intense mood swings, irregular sleep patterns and feeding schedules, frequent periods of crying, and violent tantrums when frustrated.7 This is the youngster I have designated the “strong-willed child.” Chess and Thomas described the second category as the “easy child,” who exhibits a positive approach to people, quiet adaptability to new situations, regular sleep patterns and feeding schedules, and a willingness to accept the rules of the game.8 The authors concluded, “Such a youngster is usually a joy to his or her parents, pediatrician, or teachers.”9 Amen. My term for the easy child is “compliant.”

Chess and Thomas called the third personality pattern “slow to warm up” or “shy.”10 Youngsters in this category respond negatively to new situations and adapt slowly. However, they are less intense than difficult children, and they tend to have regular sleeping and feeding schedules. When they are upset or frustrated, they typically withdraw from the situation and react mildly rather than explode with anger and rebellion.

Not every child fits into one of these categories, of course, but according to Drs. Chess and Thomas, approximately 65 percent do.11 The researchers also emphasized that babies are fully human at birth, being able immediately to relate to their parents and learn from their environment.12 Blank slates at birth? Hardly!

We know now that heredity plays a much larger role in the development of human temperament than was previously understood. This is the conclusion of meticulous research conducted over many years at institutions like the University of Minnesota. The researchers there identified more than one hundred sets of identical twins that had been separated near the time of birth. They were raised in varying cultures, religions, and locations. They did not know each other, however, until they were grown. Because each set of twins shared the same DNA, or genetic material, and the same architectural design, it became possible for the researchers to examine the impact of inheritance by comparing their similarities and their differences on many variables. From these and other studies, it became clear that much of the personality, perhaps 70 percent or more, is inherited.13 Our genes influence such qualities as creativity, wisdom, loving-kindness, vigor, longevity, intelligence, and even the joy of living.

Consider the brothers known in the Minnesota study as the “Jim twins,” who were separated until they were thirty-nine years old. Their similarities were astonishing. Both married a woman named Linda. Both had a dog named Toy. Both suffered from migraine headaches. Both chain-smoked. Both liked the same brand of beer. Both drove Chevys, and both served as sheriff’s deputies. Their personalities and attitudes were virtual carbon copies.14 Though this degree of symmetry is exceptional, it illustrates the finding that most identical twins reveal surprising similarities in personality that are linked to heredity.

A person’s genetic structure is thought to even influence the stability of his or her marriage. If an identical twin gets a divorce, the risk of the other also divorcing is 45 percent.15 However, if a fraternal twin, who shares only half as many genes, divorces, the risk to the other twin is only 30 percent.16

What do these findings mean? Are we mere puppets on a string, playing out a predetermined course without free will or personal choices? Of course not. Unlike birds and mammals that act according to instinct, humans are capable of rational thought and independent action. We don’t act on every sexual urge, for example, despite our genetic underpinnings. What is clear is that heredity provides a nudge in a particular direction—a definite impulse or inclination—but one that can be brought under the control of our rational processes. In fact, we must learn early in life to do just that.

What do we know specifically about children with particularly strong wills? That question has intrigued me for years. There has been very little written about these youngsters and almost no research on which to base an understanding. That dearth of information left parents of difficult children to muddle through on their own. In response, I conducted a survey of thirty-five thousand parents, mentioned earlier, to learn what their experiences have been. It was not a “scientific” investigation, since there was no randomized design or availability of a control group.17 Nevertheless, what I learned was fascinating to me and, I hope, will be useful to you. Here is a summary of a huge volume of information that was provided by the people who have the most knowledge of kids who are as hardheaded as mules—the parents who live with them every day.

• We found that there are nearly three times as many strong willed kids as those who are compliant. Nearly every family with multiple children has at least one who wants to run things. Male strong-willed children outnumber females by about 5 percent, and female compliant children outnumber males by about 6 percent. Thus, there is a slight tendency for males to have tougher temperaments and for females to be more compliant, but it can be, and often is, reversed.

• Birth order has nothing to do with being strong-willed or compliant. These elements of temperament are basically inherited and can occur in the eldest child or in the baby of the family.

• Most parents know they have a strong-willed child very early. One-third can tell at birth. Two-thirds know by the youngster’s first birthday, and 92 percent are certain by the third birthday. Parents of compliant children know it even earlier.

• The temperaments of children tend to reflect those of their parents. Although there are many exceptions, two strong-willed parents are more likely to produce tough-minded kids and vice versa.

• Parents of strong-willed children can expect a battle during the teen years, even if they have raised them properly. Fully 74 percent of strong-willed children rebel significantly during adolescence. The weaker the authority of the parents when the kids are young, the greater the conflict is in later years.

• Incredibly, only 3 percent of compliant children experience severe rebellion in adolescence, and just 14 percent go into even mild rebellion. They start out life with a smile on their face and keep it there into young adulthood.

• The best news for parents of strong-willed children is the rapid decrease in their rebellion in young adulthood. It drops almost immediately in the early twenties and then trails off even more from there. Some are still angry into their twenties and early thirties, but by then the fire is gone for the majority. They peacefully rejoin the human community.

• The compliant child is much more likely to be a good student than the strong-willed child. Nearly three times as many strong-willed children made Ds and Fs during the last two years of high school as did compliant children. Approximately 80 percent of compliant children were A and B students.

• The compliant child is considerably better adjusted socially than the strong-willed child. It would appear that youngsters who are inclined to challenge the authority of their parents are also more likely to behave offensively with their peers.

• The compliant child typically enjoys higher self-esteem than the strong-willed child. It is difficult to overestimate the importance of this finding. Only 19 percent of compliant teenagers either disliked themselves (17 percent) or felt extreme self-hatred (2 percent). Of the very strong-willed teenagers, 35 percent disliked themselves and 8 percent experienced extreme self-hatred. The strong-willed child seems compelled from within to fuss, fight, test, question, resist, and challenge.

Obviously, the findings I have shared in this chapter are of enormous significance to our understanding of children. They and related concepts are described in greater detail in my book Parenting Isn’t for Cowards.18

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

Q: Tell me why some kids with every advantage and opportunity seem to turn out bad, while others raised in terrible homes become pillars in the community. I know one young man who grew up in squalid circumstances, yet he is such a fine person today. How did his parents manage to raise such a responsible son when they didn’t even seem to care?

A: That illustrates just the point I have been trying to make. Neither heredity nor environment will account for all human behavior. There is something else there—something from within—that also operates to make us who we are. Some behavior is caused, and some plainly isn’t.

Several years ago, for example, I had dinner with two parents who had unofficially “adopted” a thirteen-year-old boy. This youngster followed their son home one afternoon and asked if he could spend the night. As it turned out, he stayed with them for almost a week without receiving so much as a phone call from his mother. It was later learned that she worked sixteen hours a day and had no interest in her son. Her alcoholic husband had divorced her several years earlier and left town without a trace. The boy had been abused, unloved, and ignored through much of his life.

Given this background, what kind of kid do you think he is today—a druggie? a foul-mouthed delinquent? a lazy, insolent bum? No. He is polite to adults; he is a hard worker; he makes good grades in school; and he enjoys helping around the house. This boy is like a lost puppy who desperately wants a good home. He begged the family to adopt him officially so he could have a real father and a loving mother. His own mom couldn’t care less.

How could this teenager be so well-disciplined and polished despite his lack of training? I don’t know. It is simply within him. He reminds me of my wonderful friend David Hernandez. David and his parents came to the United States illegally from Mexico more than fifty years ago and nearly starved to death before they found work. They eventually survived by helping to harvest the potato crop throughout the state of California. During this era, David lived under trees or in the open fields. His father made a stove out of an oil drum half-filled with dirt. The open campfire was the centerpiece of their home.

David never had a roof over his head until his family finally moved into an abandoned chicken coop. His mother covered the boarded walls with cheap wallpaper, and David thought they were living in luxury. Then the city of San Jose condemned the area, and David’s “house” was torn down. He couldn’t understand why the community would destroy so fine a place.

Given this beginning, how can we explain the man that David Hernandez became? He graduated near the top of his class in high school and was granted a scholarship to college. Again, he earned high marks and four years later entered Loma Linda University School of Medicine. Once more, he scored in the top 10 percent of his class and continued in a residency in obstetrics and gynecology. Eventually, he served as a professor of obstetrics and gynecology at both Loma Linda University and the University of Southern California medical schools. Then, at the peak of his career, his life began to unravel.

I’ll never forget the day Dr. Hernandez called me after he’d been released from the hospital following a battery of laboratory tests. The diagnosis? Sclerosing cholangitis, a liver disorder that was invariably fatal at that time. The world lost a fine husband, father, and friend six years later when he was only forty-three. I loved him like a brother, and I still miss him today.

Again, I ask how such discipline and genius could come from these infertile circumstances. Who would have thought that this deprived boy sitting in the dirt would someday become one of the most loved and respected surgeons of his era? Where did the motivation originate? From what bubbling spring did his ambition and thirst for knowledge flow? He had no books, took no educational trips, knew no scholars. Yet he reached for the sky. Why did it turn out this way for David Hernandez and not the youngster with every advantage and opportunity?

Why have so many children of prominent and loving parents grown up in ideal circumstances only to reject it all for the streets of Atlanta, San Francisco, or New York? Good answers are simply not available. It apparently comes down to this: God chooses to use individuals in unique ways. Beyond that mysterious relationship, we must simply conclude that some kids seem born to make it and others are determined to fail. Someone reminded me recently that the same boiling water that softens the carrot also hardens the egg. Likewise, some individuals react positively to certain circumstances and others negatively. We don’t know why.

Two things are clear to me from this understanding. First, parents have been far too quick to take the credit or blame for the way their children turn out. Those with bright young superstars stick out their chests and say, “Look what we accomplished.” Those with twisted and irresponsible kids wonder, Where did we go wrong? Well, neither is entirely accurate. No one would deny that parents play an important role in the development and training of their children. But they are only part of the formula from which a young adult is assembled.

Second, behavioral scientists have been far too simplistic in their explanation of human behavior. We are more than the aggregate of our experiences. We are more than the quality of our nutrition. We are more than our genetic heritage. We are more than our biochemistry. And we are more than our parents’ influence. God has created us as unique individuals, capable of independent and rational thought that is not attributable to any other source. That is what makes the task of parenting so challenging and rewarding. Just when you think you have your kids figured out, you had better brace yourself! Something new is coming your way.

Q: Does Scripture confirm that babies have temperaments or personalities before birth?

A: Yes, in several references we learn that God knows and relates to unborn children as individuals. He said to the prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations” (Jeremiah 1:5, RSV). The apostle Paul said we were also chosen before birth (see Ephesians 1:4). And in a remarkable account, we are told of the prenatal development of the twins Jacob and Esau. As predicted before their birth, one turned out to be rebellious and tough while the other was something of a mama’s boy. They were fighting before they were born and continued in conflict through much of their lives (see Genesis 25:22-27). Then later, in one of the most mysterious and disturbing statements in the Bible, the Lord said, “Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated” (Romans 9:13, KJV). Apparently, God discerned a rebellious nature in Esau before he was born and knew that he would not be receptive to the divine Spirit.

These examples tell us that unborn children are unique individuals with whom God is already acquainted. They also confirm, for me at least, the wickedness of abortion, which destroys those embryonic little personalities.

Q: How can you say that precious little newborns come into the world inherently evil? I agree with the experts who say that babies are born good and they only learn to do wrong later.

A: Please understand that the issue here is not with the purity or innocence of babies. No one would question their preciousness as creations of God. The point of disagreement concerns the tendencies and inclinations they have inherited. People who believe in innate goodness would have us believe that human beings are naturally unselfish, honest, respectful, kind to others, self-controlled, obedient to authority, etc. Children, as you indicated, then subsequently learn to do wrong when they are exposed to a corrupt and misguided society. Bad experiences are responsible for bad behavior. To raise healthy kids, then, it is the task of parents to provide a loving environment and then stay out of the way. Natural goodness will flow from within.

This is the humanistic perspective on childish nature. Millions of people believe it to be true. Most psychologists have also accepted and taught this notion throughout the twentieth century. There is only one thing wrong with the concept. It is entirely inaccurate.

Q: How can you be so sure about the nature of children? What evidence do you have to support the belief that their tendency is to do wrong?

A: We’ll start with what the “owner’s manual” has to say about human nature. Only the Creator of children can tell us how He made them, and He has done that in Scripture. It teaches that we are born in sin, having inherited a disobedient nature from Adam. King David said, “In sin did my mother conceive me” (Psalm 51:5, KJV, italics added), meaning that this tendency to do wrong was transmitted genetically. Paul said this sinful nature has infected every person who ever lived. “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23, KJV, italics added). Therefore, with or without bad associations, children are naturally inclined toward rebellion, selfishness, dishonesty, aggression, exploitation, and greed. They don’t have to be taught these behaviors. They are natural expressions of their humanness.

Although this perspective is viewed with disdain by the secular world today, the evidence to support it is overwhelming. How else do we explain the pugnacious and perverse nature of every society on earth? Bloody warfare has been the centerpiece of world history for more than five thousand years. People of every race and creed around the globe have tried to rape, plunder, burn, blast, and kill each other century after century. Peace has been but a momentary pause when they have stopped to reload! Plato said more than 2,350 years ago: “Only dead men have seen an end to war.”19 He was right, and it will continue that way until the Prince of Peace comes.

Not only have nations warred against each other since the beginning of time, we also find a depressing incidence of murder, drug abuse, child molestation, prostitution, adultery, homosexuality, and dishonesty among individuals. How would we account for this pervasive evil in a world of people who are naturally inclined toward good? Have they really drifted into these antisocial and immoral behaviors despite their inborn tendencies? If so, surely one society in all the world would have been able to preserve the goodness with which children are born. Where is it? Does such a place exist? No, although admittedly some societies are more moral than others. Still, none reflect the harmony that might be expected from the natural goodness theorists. Why not? Because their basic premise is wrong.

Q: What, then, does this biblical understanding mean for parents? Are they to consider their babies guilty before they have done anything wrong?

A: Of course not. Children are not responsible for their sins until they reach an age of accountability—and that time frame is known only to God. On the other hand, parents should not be surprised when rebellious or mischievous behavior occurs. It will happen, probably by the eighteenth month or before. Anyone who has watched a toddler throw a temper tantrum when she doesn’t get her way must be hard-pressed to explain how the phrase “innate goodness” became so popular! Did her mother or father model the tantrum for her, falling on the floor, slobbering, kicking, crying, and screaming? I would hope not. Either way, the kid needs no demonstration. Rebellion comes naturally to her entire generation—although in some individuals it is more pronounced than in others.

For this reason, parents can and must train, mold, correct, guide, punish, reward, instruct, warn, teach, and love their kids during the formative years. Their purpose is to shape that inner nature and keep it from tyrannizing the entire family. Ultimately, however, only Jesus Christ can cleanse it and make it wholly acceptable to the Master. This is what the Bible teaches about people, and this is what I firmly believe.

Q: If it is natural for a toddler to break all the rules, should he be disciplined for his defiance?

A: You are on to something important here. Many of the spankings and slaps given to toddlers can and should be avoided. Toddlers get in trouble most frequently because of their natural desire to touch, bite, taste, smell, and break everything within their grasp. However, this exploratory behavior is not aggressive. It is a valuable means for learning and should not be discouraged. I have seen parents slap their two-year-olds throughout the day for simply investigating their world. This squelching of normal curiosity is not fair to the youngster. It seems foolish to leave an expensive trinket where it will tempt him and then scold him for taking the bait. If little fat fingers insist on handling the trinkets on the lower shelf, it is much wiser to distract the child with something else than to discipline him for his persistence. Toddlers cannot resist the offer of a new plaything. They are amazingly easy to interest in less fragile toys, and parents should keep a few alternatives available for use when needed.

When, then, should the toddler be subjected to mild discipline? When he openly defies his parents’ spoken commands! If he runs the other way when called, purposely slams his milk glass onto the floor, dashes into the street while being told to stop, screams and throws a tantrum at bedtime, hits his friends—these are the forms of unacceptable behavior that should be discouraged. Even in these situations, however, all-out spankings are not often required to eliminate the behavior. A parent’s firm rap to the fingers or command to sit in a chair for a few minutes will convey the same message just as convincingly. Spankings should be reserved for a child’s moments of greatest antagonism, usually occurring after the third birthday.

The toddler years are critical to a child’s future attitude toward authority. He should be taught to patiently obey without being expected to behave like a more mature child.

Without watering down anything I have said earlier, I should also point out that I am a firm believer in the judicious use of grace (and humor) in parent-child relationships. In a world in which children are often pushed to grow up too fast and too soon, their spirits can dry out like prunes beneath the constant gaze of critical eyes. It is refreshing to see parents temper their inclination for harshness with a measure of unmerited favor. There is always room for more loving forgiveness within our home. Likewise, there’s nothing that rejuvenates the parched, delicate spirit of a child faster than when a lighthearted spirit pervades the home and regular laughter fills its halls. Heard any good jokes lately?