I used to have a lot of tricks up my sleeve for bringing my son’s behavior into line. I used behavior charts, stickers, counting to three, rewards, bribes, and time-outs. I thought these methods were the best and most effective way to teach my son to stop inappropriate or annoying behaviors. The problem was that none of my tricks reached his heart, and so none of them led to lasting positive change in behavior. The change happened when I stopped punishing his actions and started looking for and treating the cause of those actions.

How often do we simply look at and treat the symptoms? Wouldn’t we be better to discover and treat the cause? Are we parenting a whole human being or are we just on Behavior Patrol? Because I can tell you from experience that when we operate as Behavior Patrol, we miss a whole lot about the human being.

I believe we need less “go to your room” and more “how can I help?” Less “you’re grounded” and more “I’m listening.” Less behavior management and more heart to heart talks.

Do you know what I’ve discovered when I looked past the action for the cause? I discovered my three year old wasn’t “defiant,” he was sad. He had a new brother and he was feeling overwhelmed. The mommy who was all his last month now belonged to someone else – at least in part. He had big feelings and an immature brain that couldn’t process them. His behavior was his distress call. If I’d have continued to punish the actions, I would have missed the pain. We can’t heal what we don’t see. When I healed the hurt, his behavior improved. No punishment in the world would have fixed the problem. He needed connection. He needed to know he still mattered – that I was still his.

I discovered that my eight year old wasn’t a “bully” because he said hurtful words to his brother. A heartfelt discussion allowed him to open up and tell me that he felt his brother was better than him at everything. He thought he was smarter, he could draw better, was better at video games, and had more friends. He wasn’t a mean child, he was a hurting child. He felt like he didn’t measure up. He felt bad. His behavior was his distress call. Taking away his privileges wouldn’t have addressed his feelings or healed the hurt. Those would have continued to fester beneath the surface if I hadn’t taken the time to see the heart behind the behavior. He didn’t need to be grounded to his room, he needed to be grounded in the truth that we was significant and accepted.

I talked to my three year old about his defiance. I talked to my eight year old about his hurtful words. I corrected them, but I didn’t stop there. I went to the source and put a little healing balm. I answered the distress call. Could the behavior that you keep having to correct be a distress call? This is where real healing begins and how behavior problems are fixed, not simply managed.