My Son Prefers Me to His Dad. I Kind of See His Point.

Our advice columnists have heard it all over the years—so today we’re diving into the archives of Care and Feeding to share classic parenting letters with our readers. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here. Dear Care and Feeding, My 4-year-old son “Charlie” is very vocal and adamant about the fact that he only likes me and not my husband. I know that children go through phases about preferring one parent over the other, but he has been consistent in his preference since birth. And the thing is … I kind of see his point. More than anything, I want them to connect and have a good relationship, but I feel like when I try to help make that happen, I just end up micromanaging their interactions. Charlie has a very big energy, is very intense in the way he expresses both positive and negative emotions, is stubborn as hell, and is just generally A LOT. Maybe it’s because Charlie and I share a similar intensity along with some other personality traits, but on the whole, I am usually pretty decent at anticipating how he will respond to situations, and I modify my approach accordingly. On the other hand, my husband is much more low-key, and when he gives a direction or enforces a completely reasonable boundary (“It’s time to get in the car and drive to school,” “No, you may not have a bowl of ice cream now because we’re eating dinner in 10 minutes,” etc.), their interaction ends with Charlie having a tantrum with screaming and tears. My husband isn’t unkind or harsh, and he tries to do all the good parenting stuff like showing empathy and understanding toward Charlie and his feelings and collaborating with Charlie on ways to solve the issue, but he never seems to say quite the right thing. It’s so frustrating for my husband to feel like he can never quite get a handle on how to interact with Charlie, and it’s frustrating for me to watch, because while I feel like I could probably think of a better way to approach a situation, I just want them to figure this out on their own. Plus, it becomes a cycle because then Charlie only wants to do activities with me. My husband and I both love Charlie for all that he is, but I am worried that their inability to get on the same level now will just get worse as Charlie gets older. We also have a 7-year-old who is less demonstrative and has a personality more similar to my husband’s, and the two of them share a much more organic relationship that was never quite like this. I know it’s not really up to me, but is there anything I can do help them figure out their relationship? Should I step in more to help my husband out? What happens if they never get on the same page? —Parenting a Spirited Kid Dear Spirited Kid, You say the right things, like you want them to figure it out on their own, and you know it’s not up to you, but then you wonder if there’s anything you can do. The answer: Get out of the house, whenever that is possible, and leave it alone. Take your 7-year-old somewhere, and leave Charlie and your husband to muddle along. I wouldn’t advocate this, necessarily, if your husband was reacting to Charlie’s intensity with authoritarian demands to Obey Your Parent, This Minute!!! (That would do no good at all, as I know you know.) But he seems to have a grip on the basics—empathy, collaboration—even if he hasn’t quite found his voice with Charlie yet. I sense, from reading your answer, that perhaps you’ve read your Raising Your Spirited Child and The Explosive Child—has your husband? If he hasn’t, would he be willing to? He might get some strategies there. But it seems like what he needs most is practice, away from your supervision, at being in charge of Charlie. This will have a few advantages that will compound as time goes on. When it comes to your husband’s handling of the routine requests (like “time to get in the car”) that might end in a tantrum, you won’t have to see what happens—so you will be spared wondering if you should intervene, stressing about it later, and so on. As for the fun stuff, if you are not available to do those activities that Charlie prefers to do with you, then he and your husband will have to figure out their own dynamic—one that can grow by itself, organically, as you say. One more thing: Someone once said to me that I should “parent the child in front of me,” rather than worrying so much about how some practice or choice might result in an undesirable outcome at age 10, 20, or 30. If you can bring yourself to apply this advice to your own perceptions of your husband’s relationship with Charlie, and stop catastrophizing about what might happen between them down the road, I think you might be happier, and the atmosphere of your home might lighten up, just a little. —Rebecca Onion From: Dear Care and Feeding: A Gang of Neighborhood Kids Is Holding Me Hostage in My Own Home. (October 6th, 2021). Get advice—submit a question! Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear Care and Feeding, I’m a single father with sole custody of my 8-year-old son. Mostly things are well, but my son has a habit, which, through no fault of his own, causes me irrational distress. He often tries to communicate with me nonverbally using hand signals. I’m aware that this is pretty normal and appropriate behavior on his part—in his classroom, for example, the kids are encouraged to make certain requests, such as drinking water or going to the bathroom using hand signals. My problem is that I’m not just really bad at reading nonverbal signals. It actually causes me great mental anguish when people—especially loved ones—try. I know this sounds overly dramatic, but it’s almost like spiders are crawling across my brain. I’m pretty sure I know the cause. While I was always bad at this as a teen and young man, it really became a problem when I was married. My ex-wife (not the mother of my son, by the way) was one of those women who would always try to get me to read her mind and send me “signals” but then would get upset with me when I would fail to notice or correctly interpret them. She would then later berate me, using my failure to understand as “proof” that I didn’t really love her. She’s long gone, happily, and I don’t miss a thing about her, but she left me with this feeling of helplessness when I have to try and interpret nonverbal communication. I don’t lose my patience with my son when he tries it. I know he’s not doing it to try and get a rise out of me and I feel bad that something so innocent should cause me such distress. I try to hide it from him while encouraging him to be direct with his communication. Therapy isn’t an option—I live in a rural area where it’s simply not available. Do I just ride this out? Or should I be firmer with him that I need him to verbalize when he wants something? —Use Your Words Dear Use Your Words, Rather than working to hide your distress from your son, be honest with him about your limitations here. He doesn’t need to know why you have a hard time processing nonverbal cues, but you can explain to him that everyone communicates differently and while it’s great that he’s able to use nonverbal expressions to convey his needs in school, that technique doesn’t work so well for you at home. It’s important that he knows that this is your issue, not his. It can seem counterintuitive to admit our vulnerabilities to our young children, but you’d be surprised at how willing they often are to help us navigate them, once they know about them. Also: I know you mentioned that therapy isn’t a very accessible option where you live. I’d like to suggest that while in-person therapy may not be readily available, online options are. Provided that you have reliable internet, virtual counseling may be an option you’d like to consider. —Stacia L. Brown From: Dear Care and Feeding: My Husband Needs Help Controlling His Anger. (October 4th, 2021). Dear Care and Feeding, Is it wrong to read a book while my 2½-year-old son plays? I don’t mean reading aloud to him. I mean reading a book for my own pleasure. I understand the importance of not “being on your phone” constantly while in the presence of your children, but I can’t decide if reading falls into the same category. If it matters, I don’t use an e-reader, I read physical books. While play time doesn’t come naturally to me, I do spend plenty of time on the ground with him building, doing puzzles, play-eating food from his kitchen, coloring, kicking the ball around, and reading to him, of course, but he’s also pretty good on his own. Often, I find myself sitting in his playroom or outside in the yard unsure what to do with myself. I can see distraction being a factor for safety purposes, but I don’t plan on reading heavy novels or anything that would be completely engrossing. I’m thinking something more like the Jessica Simpson memoir and other light material like that. Is this OK? —Bored Mama Dear Bored Mama, This is 100 percent OK, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t owe your toddler 24 hours of undivided attention. It sounds like you’re engaging your 2½-year-old quite a bit, which I’m sure he appreciates. But it’s just as important for him to see you engaging yourself in independent activities that you enjoy. You’ve noted that he seems OK on his own, and that’s probably because he’s already observed you being OK on your own. He’s learned how to play independently because you’ve allowed yourself to pay attention to something other than him—and he’s been perfectly fine while you did! As long as you can both see each other from your reading nook, dive into whatever books suit your fancy. If he needs you, he’ll make it known and no tome is so engrossing that you’ll be able to miss a 2½-year-old’s cries for your affection or assistance. —S.L.B. From: Dear Care and Feeding: Is It Inappropriate for My 12-Year-Old and Me to Share a Bed? (September 20th, 2021). More Parenting Advice From Slate My parents come across as amazing people. They are both well-known academics in their fields and active in social justice circles. They use much of their generational wealth for philanthropic projects. My mom sits on the board of a famous charity; my dad is liked wherever he goes. They were also profoundly, viciously abusive to me when I was growing up.