Lessons in relationship dynamics from my children

and a few books I've read recently

“Mommy, I think you’re a bit cranky.”

I had just parked the car outside of an appointment, and my son’s voice gently called from the seat behind me. I had grumbled most of the drive there, feeling overstimulated and stressed. I found myself repeatedly asking the kids to speak more quietly, to stim in a gentler way—even with my own headphones on.

“You know what, bud? I think you’re right,” I said. “Mommy is SO cranky right now. I didn’t eat, I felt rushed, and then the traffic was worse than usual. I’m sorry for being cranky with you.”

“I know what will solve this,” he confidently responded. “You need to rest. When we get home, we can ask Daddy to handle everything, and you can take a rest.”

I laughed, realizing I was just “gentle parented” by my 1st grader, and told him that was a great idea. I thanked him for looking out for me.

When we got home, my husband was still finishing his workday, and he wasn’t able to “handle everything” in that moment. But he did prioritize meeting the kids’ morning needs over the weekend so that I could sleep in and rest.

I talk to my children a lot about what they need to feel regulated. I encourage them to notice what they need—and ask for it. I would almost certainly lose count if I tried to track how many times I ask, “What does your body need?” or “I wonder what would help your heart feel calmer.”

People around us have wondered about these semantics as much as the approach—about the way we respond when our children are dysregulated (or as some like to put it, “acting out”). But a growing number of experts advocate for the understanding that behavior is communication— that behavior is our children’s way of demonstrating that a need isn’t being met, and often that they’re not able to meet it for themselves.

In choosing not to punish these acts of self-awareness, of seeking support, of advocating for their needs, the way these needs are communicated has evolved for my entire family.

We don’t do it perfectly—not even close. But we’ve been able to expand our capacity (or “window of tolerance”), and in doing so, we’re having harder conversations. We’re meeting deeper needs. We’re naming what helps us feel our best and collaborating on how to make it happen.

When my son told me I was cranky, I could have snapped at him. I could have told him not to talk to me like that or exasperatedly told him that with his limited life experience, he couldn’t possibly understand. I could have ignored him, or simply said, “let’s talk about this later.”

But I knew I HAD been cranky. And here he was, tenderly offering an opportunity to repair. To make it right, to seal up the tiny fracture that was forming as I fussed at other drivers and lamented how behind schedule we were.

I’m realizing that advocating for ourselves is often just noticing those opportunities—what relationship experts Drs. John and Julie Gottman call bids—to connect and repair. And after noticing, it’s choosing whether to move toward each other, to move toward the bid. If we have to reject it, we can choose to do so in a way that expresses a desire to move toward one another even if it’s not possible in the moment.

In pausing and engaging, I was able to notice and respond to both of our needs (his need: connection and confirmation that I’m ok, my need: to feel seen).

Photo by Kenny Krosky on Unsplash

When parenting neurodivergent kids (and being neurodivergent ourselves), these parent-child interactions can feel complicated, even messy. Our emotional and sensory thresholds are ever-evolving, our capacity fluctuates, and I often feel like I’m missing the mark more often than not.

Thankfully, the research supports that we don’t have to be in sync as long as we seek to repair, and as long as we respond positively to each other’s desires to repair. One study done in the 80s (Tronick & Gianino, 1986) about attunement/attachment found that even in the most securely attached relationships, the mothers and children in the study were only on the same page about 30% of the time. In other words, they were out of sync 70% of the time! Mismatched in their communication, attunement, etc. or actively seeking to repair.

The authors of that paper believed that the mismatch and repair dynamic is critical to development — to cultivating self-regulation, resilience, effective coping skills. To extrapolate further, I think their research supports that the mismatch/repair cycle is essential to learning and internalizing that the world around us won’t always be able to anticipate our needs and emotions, and we will need to advocate for ourselves.

The work the Gottmans have done on adult relationships seems to also reflect these findings, and there’s so much being done to better understand the neurobiological aspects of our interpersonal relationships that will almost certainly apply to how neurodivergent individuals regulate their own nervous systems and navigate conflict/mismatch and repair. And by extension, I’m hopeful that it will help us develop better skills and support to do so.

So be encouraged, friends. We don’t have to be perfectly attuned to our kids or spouses/partners. It’s likely we won’t be. Let’s focus our efforts on learning how to repair and consistently respond to each other’s bids for connection.

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Bits & Bobs (& mostly books!)

• My “break” this summer ended up being nearly two months. During that time, I did a LOT of reading, espcially a deep dive on YA/middle grades novels and other books featuring neurodivergent characters. A few favorites included Sally J. Pla’s The Fire, the Water, and Maudie McGinn and Stanley Will Probably Be Fine, and Elle McNicoll’s Like a Charm, Show Us Who You Are, and A Kind of Spark. I also read Counting by 7s by Holly Goldberg Sloan, which was good but not as beloved as the ones above. Currently reading Save Me a Seat by Sarah Weeks and Gita Varadarajan, and excited to read Pla’s The Someday Birds soon.

• Speaking of kids’ books, I also have had the beautiful opportunity to get to know Iris Wong, who wrote A Kids Book About Executive Functioning. It is such a lovely, approachable exploration of executive functioning. We’ll definitely be revisiting as we continue to get comfortable with our brains and EF differences.

• And because this is maybe becoming a Sally J. Pla fan blog now, she and a few other writers (including an autistic librarian) created A Noevl Mind. If you’re looking for books featuring increased mental health and neurodiversity representation, this is the place to find it.

• We’re back to school in our house. We were able to spend a few days at the beach to mark the end of summer, and we returned to a new rhythm. I am grateful that we’re starting our third year with the same homeschool community, because there are friends around me who can remind me how we’ve all grown on this journey since 2022. I’m glad we are able to notice tangible, positive shifts in baseline capacity and self-regulation, but I’m especially thankful for encouraging friends who love us as we are.

Alright, y’all. Thank you for being here and for reading. Until next time! 👋