The Only Girl,1933: Susan Isaacs helps a mother (and her sons) to manage her tyrannical five year old daughter.

 March 8, 1933 in The Nursery Word

 

A little girl of five who domineers her elder brothers

 

 

“A.R.” writes, “ Reading with interest your replies to other readers, I venture to ask you a question myself. I am only a working-class mother and have to manage my children alone. I have four children, the three eldest being boys, aged twelve, nine, seven, and my baby girl is now five. They are all dear children, but lately my little girl has grown very domineering , especially to her brothers. She orders them and expects them to wait on her, and everything they have she wants. She has been rather spoilt all her life, being the only girl, and now getting so selfish and over-bearing. What worries me as much as anything is the way the boys put up with it. They all give in to her without a murmur, even to her most outrageous demands. Bobby (aged twelve) is very fond of Meccano, and has a lovely set given him by my husband’s employer, but he will let Sylvia pull his best models to pieces, knock them on the floor, etc., and he never says a word. The other boys have lots of toys and games, trains, etc., not really suitable for girl, but Sylvia has them all whenever he likes. And yet the boys fight among themselves for the least thing, and Bobby is inclined to bully Keith and Owen, but he would not let anyone lay a finger on Sylvia, and neither would they. Surely it is not right for boys to be domineered over like that, and how can I stop them from spoiling her without spoiling their nice ways to her? They honestly do think the world of her and are always boasting of her. And she knows it, and I am afraid she will grow up vain and spoilt". 

 

I certainly think you are right in feeling that something should be done about this situation. It is, of course, very bad for the child to be able to tyrannise to that extent over three boys. I should definitely intervene when they allow the child to behave unreasonably – for example, when the biggest boy allows the little girl to knock his models about. It may be that he is allowing that because he thinks you would be angry if he did not, and I should certainly take steps to make quite clear that you disapprove of such behaviour and are on his side. I would not be angry, if he did not, and I should certainly take steps to make clear that you disapprove of such behaviour and are on his side. I would not be angry, but I would definitely represent the view that it is unreasonable for any person to be allowed to damage someone else’s constructive efforts in that way. It is not as if she were a tiny baby and could not understand. I am sure that it is better for her happiness and character that you should intervene on her behalf of sense and reason. And it is better for the boys, too, that they should not have this unnaturally quixotic attitude to a girl and feel that this is the only right way to behave towards her. If I were you I should speak to the boys about it when the little girl is not there. Tell them that you think it is very bad for the child herself, and appeal to them to be more sensible. They could still be friendly and yet not allow the child to tyrannise over them in this way. I do not think it will spoil their nice attitude to help them to be really more responsible and sensible. 

 

 

 

Cross in the mornings, 1935 – Ursula Wise talks about a seven year old’s emotional sensitivity about a ‘feeling of emptiness’ that could be part of her morning difficulty

  May 15, 1935 in The Nursery World 

 Cross in the mornings

 

Some of us wake up bright and cheerful, for others of us the morning is definitely not our best time. A little girl’s morning irritability is the subject of one of this week’s letters answered by Ursula Wise

 

“Irritating mother” writes: “I should be so glad if you could help me with a problem connected with my seven and a half year old daughter. She is a very jolly, cheery, happy little soul, except in the early morning during the getting-up and dressing processes. Everything then seems to go wrong, everything I do or say ‘irritates her’ (her own expression). She will take an hour over her dressing and when I try to hurry her becomes worse than ever; she is thoroughly cross, rude and almost unbearable. I have tried giving her magnesia, barley-sugar to suck, and fruit juice to drink – she refuses to eat anything before breakfast. We get up at 7.30, breakfast at 8.30. She always has malted milk for her supper at 6.45 p.m., but nothing to eat as she is liable to have bad dreams and we have found they are much better when she has not had any food. She is practically an only child as her sister is seven years older, and away at school, but they are tremendous friends when together. She has a governess and easy lessons in the mornings and ‘nanny’ comes at 2.30 every day and stays til after bedtime. She is inclined to acidosis, though growing out of it, I think, is rather anaemic as her lips are often pale. It is really quite a problem as to how to deal with her in the mornings. I have tried leaving her entirely alone and I have tried dressing her myself, but neither of these methods are very successful, and I should be so very glad if you can give me any suggestions. She is very dawdly in most things, and I am very quick. I am afraid I may get rather impatient at times, but she seems to get quite frenzied when I tell her, however calmly, to ‘hurry up.’ She is almost absurdly devoted to me, in fact, we often laugh together over her ‘soppy’ ways, but at these times and especially in the early mornings she is intensely rude, and I am so afraid of it becoming an ingrained habit that I should be most thankful to know how best to deal with it. Is it psychological; or physical; or merely hunger?”

 

            It seems to me probable that this irritability of your daughter arises from a combination of causes. Doubtless she gets cross more easily when she is hungry in the morning, but doubtless also, this is not purely a physical need of food so much as an emotional sensitivity about the feeling of emptiness. It is quite likely that it connects with the experience of weaning long ago. I wonder if you remember how she took to the process of weaning – whether she was difficult at the time? Many grown-ups are more inclined to be cross and unhappy before breakfast, aren’t they? Whereas others are at their best in the early morning. Evidently your daughter would belong to the first of these two types. But it is very likely that the acuteness of her irritability will get less as she gets older. It may be that she would do better if she had a little food at supper time, but you can only find that out by experience. If you give her any, I should not make any particular comment about it, or let her know that you are observing its results or anxious about the effect. On the whole, I should be inclined to trust to the normal course of development to get her over this special difficulty of the early morning irritation. It is a pity that she will not drink some orange juice before she gets out of bed, since this would certainly be a help. I wonder whether you could make it a general household custom to drink some orange juice before getting up in the mornings? At any rate, if you try to get her to do it, do not handle it as if it were drinking of medicine. Let it be a pleasure and an indulgence. I certainly would not try to dress the child. it would be far better to leave her to look after herself at her own pace, but if you do this, do not let her feel that you are punishing her by depriving her of your help, and do not actually refuse help if she wants to have it. Since she is so very devoted to you, and otherwise a sensible child, I am sure you will find she will get over this special difficulty of you can ease off the situation before breakfast for her. It might even be a help if you let her come to breakfast in her dressing -gown and dress afterwards. 

A Child's Point of View, 1930: Ursula Wise talks about the child's dignity and her right to this, as well as encouraging a sense of humour and a little self deprecation!

 June 4^th, 1930 in The Nursery World

 

A Child’s Point of View 

 

“Puzzled” writes: “I have read with great interest your answers to others in difficulty, and would be so grateful to have your opinion of mine. My little charge, aged four and a quarter, is a highly strung, nervous child. I find fault as little as possible, but when she has to be corrected, she has a most puzzling way of behaving. For instance, if I tell her in a very serious voice I am very displeased she will come to me a few minutes afterwards and say, ‘It is not nice of you to speak to me like that. Now I am very displeased and I am looking very cross!’ On one occasion she called me to look at something. I replied I would soon come but was very busy just then, consequently afterwards I found a very offended little mortal. I tried to make her understand that to get cross when I was unable to come was not right or reasonable. 

            A few days afterwards when I called her, she kept me waiting; when I said that she ought to come when Nannie called, she replied with great firmness that she had been very busy showing something to her dog, and if she did not come I ought not to be displeased over it. She evidently feels that if I express displeasure, she is entitled to do likewise, and also that if I can offer a reason for not going when called, she can do the same. If she happens to fall, she will generally hit the floor hard with obvious bad temper which seems mingled with hurt feelings. She is generally responsive to reason and persuasion where she loves. Will you please tell me how best to manage her with regard to these little difficulties?” 

 

            This is a very interesting problem, and one not easy for a busy grown-up, who has to get on with practical necessities to deal with. But it is by no means an uncommon reaction in children of high intelligence and a certain sensitive temperament. In finding out how best to deal with it, I think one has first of all to recognise that there is a certain amount of reason and justice in the child’s point of view. It isn’t just perversity, it is in part a real attempt to understand the moral values and intentions of adults. The child is reflecting upon what you have said to her, and trying to get the inside point of view about what you think unreasonable, or what you disapprove of. But, also, she is defending her dignity. It is painful to her to be subject to the judgement of other people, and by saying the same things to you she is trying to get her balance again and to get away from the painfulness of being small and dependent. To be so very sensitive does not make for social ease, and one cannot but feel sorry for children who find it so painful to be corrected. She may grow out of it to some extent, of course, particularly when she mixes with other children at school.

            I think there are three ways of helping her. One cannot, of course, altogether avoid having to show that one doesn’t approve of certain kinds of behaviour. Nor would it in the end help her if you avoided her correction when it was really needed. But one should admit to the full whatever justice there is in her point of view. As far as is really practicable, one should be as polite and considerate to the child as one expects the child to be to others. one should not cut across her play, for instance, unless tis really cannot be avoided. It is no good expecting such a child to be a model of automatic and unreasoning obedience, because she is simply not capable of being that, and to try to make her so would only cause deep resentment. It would help her very much, for instance, to explain how much depends upon your being able to get on with your work, and to talk this out without her reproach. 

            Another help you can give her is the utmost good humour! Such a child often suffers from a lack of the sense of humour. She takes herself too seriously, and if one can get her to laugh a little at her own tremendous wish to be as important and as morally powerful as the grown-ups, it does help her development. I don’t mean you must laugh at her. One would need to go very gently indeed. But I have found that when children feel the need to assume this great self-importance, one can ease things a little by a friendly good-humoured smile or laughter, in one’s voice, or the sort that is with the child not at her. 

            And the third form of help is undoubtedly plenty of the society of other children of her age. Active play with other children would probably help to lessen her special sensitivity a little, and to give her more confidence in herself, and therefore greater ease and a better sense of proportion. 

An important presence: parental violence arises only once throughout Ursula Wise's column. Here she stresses the huge importance of the nanny's rôle.

 "Unlucky Nanny" writes: 

 

“I have been helped with lots of nursery problems by your advice to others, but have never seen this question asked: How can one best help a little child who often sees her parents quarrel, and even strike each other? Nine months ago I had a breakdown, and was advised not to go back to the post I was in, because the domestic upheavals were worrying me. I had charge of a little girl who I loved very dearly, and still do. Her parents were very unhappy together, and as she was two years old, she was beginning to get very worried and upset. She is living with her mother now, but when I last visited them was always asking for her Daddy. Now my present little charge has had the experience of her mother leaving her, but she is back again now, and they seem quite unhappy. How can I help the little girl if there is trouble again? She is two.”    

 

            This is surely the most difficult problem which a child’s nurse can have to face. she cannot alter the primary situation and cannot, in fact, do a great deal to help the child face the central emotional difficulties aroused by quarrels and division between the parents. But she can do something, and that something is quite real. If she herself is stable and loving and wise in handling the child, she can help the child to go on believing that there are stable and secure people in the world, even though the most important people in it are so frightening and unhelpful. it is not surprising that “Unlucky Nanny” herself had a breakdown, if she saw the parents of her little charge in actual physical violence, as well as quarrels. In the present case the situation does not seem so acute, and Nanny may have more opportunity of being real use to the little child. One very important service which a nurse can render to a child in such an unhappy situation is by avoiding a tendency to exploit it for her own satisfaction. It would be very natural and easy to slip into an attitude that implied, “See how bad your parents are, and see what a nice and loving person I am.” To some extent the child is bound to feel like this, since indeed it will have some objective truth, but it would be very bad for the child if the nurse was to exploit this for the sake of getting extra admiration and affection from the child. This can be so easily done in subtle ways without ever being put into words. But it would not help the child so much as a large and tolerant sympathy, that would avoid condemnation of the parents whilst yet being a stable and secure refuge for the child. I am sure this sounds as if I were asking the nurse in such a home to be a marvel of wisdom and self-control, and I appreciate how hard it must be. And yet it is true that this is a very important aspect of the problem; and if ‘Unlucky Nanny” wants to help her little charge, she should be alive to the risk of (only too naturally and unwisely) slipping into the way of attaching the child too much to herself and turning her against the unhappy parents. Nevertheless, of course, she must give steady affection and real sympathy and understanding. She must show the child that she understands the latter’s fears and anxieties about the division between the parents. She can do this by a large, tolerant sympathy and a perfectly steady attitude of affection on her own part. She should avoid any mere indulgence of the child. Her handling should be firm and quiet whilst unshakably loving. If by any further development the parents were to part temporarily again, she should certainly comfort and cheer the child by saying that Mummy had gone away for a time but would probably be coming home before long. It is a very great responsibility for a Nanny, but the fact that she is herself so aware of this responsibility is an indication that she has some intuitive understanding of what it means to the child, and therefore of the best way of helping her. Occasional playtimes with other little children would be another great help which she could give her charge. Another important thing would be to be sure that the child’s active interests were satisfied in talk and play and seeing things in the word outside the home, and learning to use her limbs and fingers in all the ways suitable for her age. These indirect aids are just as important as the direct support of steady affection and sympathy, because they can help the child to realise that there are lovely and satisfying things and people outside the home, and that the world does not go to ruin even though one’s parents are unhappy or separated. 

 

Deceitfulness in a seven year old, 1938. Susan Isaacs replies to a teacher interpreting a child's behaviour, including linking it to her parents' financial worries, second teething and the inherent guilt in a child.

July 1938 in Home and School “Readers’ Questions”

Deceitfulness in a seven year old 

 "D.H.N." writes:- 

            I should be very grateful if you would advise me regarding the treatment of a little girl aged seven years, who has begun to steal, tell untruths and act deceitfully. This has apparently all happened within the last six months.

            The thefts have been little things taken from children’s pockets, e.g., marbles, handkerchiefs, a chain, a purse, halfpennies, sweets, apples. The money was invariably spent on sweets before the child went home. The other things were found hidden in her drawer in the bedroom. The child admitted to the thefts, after careful questioning, at one moment and denied them the next, and even when found with the things in her possession claimed them as her own. At no time did she appear conscious of wrong doing. She has been in the school since she was four years old and her teachers and I always regarded her as one of our brightest and most reliable scholars, calling upon her for leadership and special duties in the school. She is intelligent and possesses a very vivid imagination, e.g. she often plays alone at home, representing a number of characters in her play with perfect imitation. She will live over again activities and special functions which take place in school, using her dolls to express what she wants. She plays quite normally with other children of her own age and is invariably the leader. At school she is interested in her work and happy with her teacher. The child comes from a good working class home. There are three children in the family of which she is the eldest by four years. All the children are nervously inclined and highly strung, and the child in question has from babyhood suffered from nervous habits such a nail biting, finger picking, pulling of clothing and bedclothes to pieces. These characteristics have now almost disappeared. Recently she became very hysterical about the loss of a tooth and gathered a crowd in the park where she was playing. The parents are friendly and sympathetic with the children, giving them equal attention, and allowing reasonable toys and simple possessions. Recently the father’s income has been precarious owing to irregular employment, but the children have never gone short of their requirements. The mother tells me her little girl has only on one occasion taken anything from the home, when she took and hid a cigarette when her father sent her to bring it to him. She has, however, recently begun to rummage in drawers other than her own for no apparent reason. There has just been a development which seems more serious and the act of a more mature mind. The child went into a coffee shop and ordered biscuits in the name of a neighbour saying that the lady would call and pay later. During my thirty years’ experience with little children, I have never come across a case which has puzzled me so much. 

            The parents are naturally very worried, and having tried simple childish punishments, which have only seemed to arouse defiance, they spoke of resorting to corporal punishment. I have asked them not to do this, but to wait until we could have expert advice before doing anything further. They are willing to sacrifice anything for the child’s good, even sending her to a suitable home for treatment if such were available.

 

            In all the circumstances, you describe, there are two of the child’s experiences which seem to me likely to account for this change in her behaviour. On the one hand, she is losing her teeth, and you describe how strong her feelings were about this, and how hysterical she became.  

            You may perhaps have read what I wrote recently to explain the anxiety and trouble which second teething often brings to many sensitive children, who secretly feel that they are falling to pieces altogether, and don’t know where the process will end. 

            It is not at all uncommon for children to begin to steal just at this time. It is as if they felt ‘I must get back what I have lost.’ Of course these feelings have nothing to do with reason but are none the less strong because they are entirely rational. 

            In this little girl’s case, however, there is a special further circumstance, viz: the family trouble about the father’s irregular unemployment and the uncertainty of income. You say that the children have never gone short of their requirements; but an intelligent child of this age sees and hears everything that goes on around her. She will have heard lots of conversations between father and mother, and will see their anxious faces, and know what trouble they have in their hearts, and since her actual knowledge and experiences are very limited, since she has no way of helping her parents over this trouble, she can only deal with the situation by imagination. 

            I have no doubt from what you say that the child is in a very great state of anxiety about the family circumstances, and suffers secret fear of starvation, of loss and even of death. And not only is she feeling anxiety but also guilt. Long before this age, children feel even intense guilt about their parents’ troubles, and you describe how this little girl even from babyhood suffered from various nervous habits. 

            Such nervous nail biting, finger picking etc., always indicates deep-seated guilt as well as anxiety. Children who bite their nails do so partly because nails may scratch and hurt other people. And since this child’s parents are friendly and sympathetic, giving their children all the good things they can, as well as love and attention, it would be very surprising if a highly intelligent imaginative child of this age did not think about things from the parents’ point of view, feel sorry for them, feel grief and remorse for her own naughtinesses towards her parents in the past, and about her need to take so much from them. Most of these feelings will be quite unconscious, but intensely real all the same. 

            The little drama which you describe, of the child’s going into a shop and ordering biscuits in the name of the neighbour, so strange and so puzzling from the point of view of the adult, can be understood when we know more about the child’s feelings. I would say that she was acting out the fulfilment of a wish. She wanted to believe that her own mother could buy biscuits for her and pay for them later, even if not now. She created this little drama in her mind and acted it out in order to ease the feelings of guilt and distress about the fact that other could not buy the biscuits for her. And this would be not only because she wanted the biscuits, but because she wanted to feel that mother could pay for them, because she wanted to deny the mother’s grief and loss.

            It would not help the child or correct the development of her character to punish her physically. In fact no punishment would relive this trouble. If I were you I would talk over the whole situation with the child, and that you understand that she is really very troubled indeed about father’s work. She is really afraid that there will be no food at all, either for her or her father and mother and the other children; and she is so sorry for her mother and father, so troubled that she has even been naughty towards them, that she does not know how to bear these feelings. She steals the toys, money, food, etc., in order to prove to herself in imagination that there are good things in the world for her; and she orders things in the shop in someone else’s name in order to persuade herself that there is still a good mother in the world who will be able to buy her food and all that she needs. 

            You can be sure, too, that another thing the child is afraid of is that father and mother no longer love her. In their feelings, children often interpret genuine difficulties in the parents’ lives as a sign of a lessened love towards the children themselves. Again, of course, this is completely unreasonable, but that does not make it any less true in the child’s feelings. 

            It would help her if her father and mother, therefore, could talk over their difficulties very frankly to the child, less often in front of her, but more often directly to her, and in a way that will show the child that there is no loss of love in their hearts, and that their difficulties and anxieties about external things have not made any difference in their feelings towards her. 

            If, however, there is no improvement in the near future , I would strongly suggest your persuading the parents to take the child to the Manchester Child Guidance Clinic (Atherton Street Schools, Little John Street, Deansgate, Manchester), where they would certainly be able to get help for the troubles which underlie this behaviour. 

 

 

 

Displaced, 1930: Ursula Wise's understanding and compassionate words of advice for a mother and her little girl struggling with the arrival of a new baby

  July 2, 1930 in The Nursery World 

 

Displaced 

 

The letter this week deals with the emotional crisis faced by first children with the arrival of a new baby

 

“Petal” writes: “I should much appreciate your advice about my little daughter, now aged twenty-two months. I have just returned home after three weeks absence in a nursing home where my baby son was born. Since my return Audrey seems to whine and cry - real sobs and tears- if things are not quite to her liking, and if I bring her into the drawing room to see visitors we have quite an outburst. She has always been very shy, and would not go to strangers even when quite a baby, but I thought she was getting a little better. She is very conservative, and does not like any new experiences, new toys or new faces, and she took some days before she would come near the new baby, but she is now very interested in him and not the least bit jealous. I had not been with her a great deal for some months, so she has not felt my absence.

            “Ordinarily she is a cheerful, happy little person, and sits in her pen quite contentedly chatting to her toys, so she has not been spoilt or been the centre of attention. In fact I wonder whether I have kept her too quiet. We live in a very quiet country village, and do not have many visitors, but the grannies and the aunts I think ought not to pander to her idiosyncrasies, but I cannot make her if she does not want to. She is quite all right with people she knows, and not so bad with young people, but elderly people - usually large and dressed in dark garments - seem to inspire her with dread. I may say that my husband and I are very reserved people and do not shine in company, while I also was a very shy little girl, so do you think the trouble is hereditary? It used to not to be so bad when Audrey just sat speechless on my lap, as she usually brightened up sooner or later, but now she clutches me tightly and sobs, and I usually have to send her out of the room.  

            “I shall be most grateful for your advice, as it seems such a problem. She is perfectly healthy and most independent in other ways.”

 

            I don’t think there can be any doubt that the new baby is the immediate cause of the whining. Even though the child does not show jealousy in any open way, her querulousness is but a sign of the great effort she is making to deal with the situation. However careful and tender mother is, the little newcomer is bound to cause jealous fears in the older child, and the fact that your little girl would not come near the baby for some time suggests how strong this was. It will take her a little time to accept that the baby brother wholeheartedly, but as her direct interest in him develops, and as she finds that your won affection for her is as sure and warm as always, things will become a little easier for her. 

            But just for the present I should certainly not force her to see visitors who distress her. She is sure to be rather more sensitive all round just now, and to fear every sort of change even more than she normally does. You want her to grow out of such excessive shyness, of course, but she is more likely to do so if she is not forced to meet people who have no intrinsic appeal to her, or those who seem frightening to her - even if her fear does seem silly and unreasonable to other people themselves. I should choose rather carefully the grown-up friends who I did bring her in to see, and should arrange to send her out for a walk when someone was coming to the house of whom I thought she probably would be frightened. If she can make one or two really good friends among grown-ups, and her circle is gradually increased, she will gradually lose her fears and shyness and become more at ease. If, however, you insist upon her seeing anybody and everybody, including those who frighten her, the outburst of fear and crying must tend to make her worse rather than better, as she is bound to feel ashamed and unhappy about it afterwards. And as the nervous ones among us grown-ups know, it isn’t easy to feel happy and at home when we meet again people with whom we have already been social failures! Failure makes for failure, and nothing succeeds like success! So, I should go slowly, and let her have a few really happy and agreeable friends among the grown-ups. After all, she is no more than a baby herself yet! 

            And if a situation arises in which you can hardly avoid her being brought in to see someone whom you know she does not feel at home with, I should let it be no more than a greeting, and send her back to play again after the briefest possible time. 

 

 

 

Sleeping Alone, 1936: Ursula Wise reminds a parent that it takes patience and time to break habits, for both the child and the parent.

 

 

September 30, 1936 in Nursery World

 

 Sleeping Alone 

“H.R.S.” writes: “During the past three years I have so often found my problems in connection with my small daughter answered by your letter to other readers, all of which I find most interesting, that I have no need to write to you myself. But now I would be very grateful for your advice on several points. J. was three years old last month, and is a happy, healthy child, very intelligent and advanced for her age. So far, she has always slept in a cot in my room, and during the past year I have often taken her into my bed in the night, which I know is a bad thing to do, but it was started on a holiday to comfort her in strange surroundings, and has been very difficult to break. However, she is getting over that now gradually, and always says when she goes to bed that she will stay in her own bed all night, and tries to do so. But sometimes she wakes up in the night and says she wants to love Mummy, and if I do not take her into my bed at once, she gets worked up to a terrible pitch and nothing will comfort or quieten her until I take her. Then she is very loving and hugs and kisses me and says such sweet things and is so happy to be with me and goes to sleep at once. Now what I would like to know is, do you think it would be wise to put her into a room by herself, or would it be wiser to wait til she is a bit older, as she was not brought up to it from a baby? We talk about her having her own room and she likes the idea.  But often in the night I have to hold her hand when she wakes, she seems to need the assurance of my being near her. Would it be too much of a break for a child of her temperament to be suddenly alone? Can one expect a child of three to mostly do as it is told? When we are out for walks, J. often runs on ahead of me. If I call her to come back, she takes no notice and runs away as hard as she can go. I am terrified that she might get into the road and be knocked down before I can reach her, as the road is full of bends and she gets out of my sight. She knows she is disobeying me, but does it with a wicked look in her eye from sheer devilment, and although I try to reason and explain to her why she must not do it, she says she is sorry afterwards; she is always ready to run away at the next opportunity. She is very independent and adventurous and has no fears.