Life was not exactly simpler back then -- although it's human nature to romanticize the past--but the complications were different. Back then, we had a plethora of logistical complications. Little kids eat throughout the day. Young children need constant scrutiny. A family of 7 dirties a lot of laundry. We had behavior complications for sure, but they were more straightforward, or more straightforward seeming. Back then, they had names, like: PTSD or Attachment Disorder.
These days, they have labels, like "traumatized kid" or "emotional disturbance." The difference between then and now, is that back then, the "things" somehow seemed "solvable." Let me set the record straight, that was never true. My kids -- nor yours -- did not come with a list of things I needed to fix. It's mama-nature; we fix things. But here's the rub. Our kids are not broken. Like us, they've been shaped by their pasts and are being shaped by their lives today. It's our job, not to "fix" them, but to help them navigate this world so they are one day ready to face it as independently as possible.
I have a child who takes 4 different medicines for anxiety, mood stabilization and ADHD: 3 in the morning and 1 each in the afternoon and at night. Medicine is not enough though. It takes parenting. We are constantly asking ourselves, "What am I doing to make this better or in what way am I helping manifast this behavior?"
What I'm not saying: I'm not saying parents are to blame for all their kids' struggles. This may be extra true if your kids came with fully packed bags. However, we know we contribute, right?
We enable,
we cajole,
we cave,
we exacerbate,
we antagonize
we incite.
It's important to be honest about these things. It's essential, after a blow-up or an incident, that all the adults involved sit down and take a clear and honest look at his or her own part. In what way did I do any of those things? Sometimes we say the child came home from school "spoiling for a fight," and we know that sometimes we come home from work the same way. When we saw the child was upset, did we "poke the bear?" Did we argue with an upset child, knowing full well that arguing solves nothing? When the child says, "I'll just leave," did we say, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out"?
Those are the obvious things. Often, it's more subtle. When something went wrong, instead of waiting for a calmer time to mete out a reasonable consequence, we yelled out, "No screens for 2 weeks," and when his response was a slammed door, we yelled out, "Make it 3." On the surface, it looks okay, because a consequence was warranted. In reality, nothing needed to or should have been decided in the heat of the moment. Emergency measures did not need to be taken. 
I'm learning to listen for the warning bell clanging in my head. It reminds me of something you'd hear aboard a ship: "clang, clang, clang." When I hear that clanging, which seems to say, "Take control now," I know that is my signal . . . instead . . . to step down and do NOTHING." That little voice I'm hearing is only going to turn the volume up to 11 and everything is going to get much worse the minute I try to bring it under my control.
If you can notice that feeling in yourself that is prompting you to act in a hasty, rash or punitive way, and recognize it, then you can heed that as your warning bell and choose NOT to act when you know you are in that state. As long as there is no safety concern, walk away and address the situation later. It will lead to a better outcome for everyone. Instead, let's turn it down to a 3 and offer a metered and thoughtful response that offers a lasting benefit to both of you.
Cheers
