This Is Not a Power Struggle, Your Kid Is Just Maxed Out

Ignorance is what happens when you don’t know what you don’t know, but act like you do know, you know?

Yes, I’ve basically described humanity. But for now, let’s pick on our kids. I mean, focus on our kids.

You’ve gotten the eye roll, the whining, the refusal to do the one simple thing you asked. It was never that simple, though. Was it?

You can call it “attitude,” “disrespect,” or “spoiled rotten.”

But a lot of what you’re seeing is your child’s ignorance wearing a pair of brass balls that would’ve gotten them smacked in the mouth, beaten with a paddle, or worse if they’d grown up when we did (1970s and 80s). I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t raised in the candy-coated land of The Bradys.

Which means my brain was trained to see boldness as back talk.
But parenting now requires a different skill: translation.

When our kids fall apart over what we’d consider “small stuff.”

• The wrong color cup, the cup that ruins everything and knows it.

• Being asked to put on deodorant like it’s a human rights violation.

• The homework they “suddenly remembered” at 9:47 p.m. (with the urgency of a hostage negotiation).

• A change of plans that pops the top off Pandora’s Box.

When we don’t know any better as parents, we’re quick to say, “They’re so dramatic,” or “I wish they weren’t so sensitive.” “Get over it,” “You don’t know what rough is” were popular in my house.

What we think is attitude is often a kid whose nervous system is stressed out and who doesn’t have the skills to handle it yet. And let’s be honest, adults still have those moments. I know I do. Thank goodness they’re rare these days.

So our job isn’t to shame them for not knowing how.
Our job is to help them build the skill set piece by piece, like IKEA furniture, but the manual is missing, and everyone’s tired.

This matters for every kid. It matters extra for AuDHD kids because once their nervous system flips into overload, logic clocks out, and emotions take the wheel.

Once logic clocks out, yelling instructions is like trying to teach math to a smoke alarm. So let’s start with what actually works.

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🎧 Related listen
Power struggles don’t just show up in parenting. They show up anytime pain goes unspoken and people are left to carry it alone.

In my newest podcast episode, I sit down with Susan Snow, who lost her father as a teenager when he was ambushed and killed in the line of duty. We talk about trauma, silence, masking, and the moment everything finally began to shift toward healing.

🎧 Press play and hear what it takes to reclaim your voice when pain becomes your past, but not your future.

👉 Listen here

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Meet Them Where They Are

Meeting your kid where they are doesn’t mean you approve of the behavior.
It means you stop trying to teach a lesson to a brain that is currently on fire.

Here’s a sense of what that looks like in real life:

1. Hit pause.
   Not forever. Just long enough to stop turning a hiccup into a full-blown Broadway production.
   

2. Name what’s happening without turning it into a roast.
   Try:

   • “Feels like something didn’t go the way it should.”

   • “You weren’t expecting that. I can see that’s very upsetting for you.”

   • “That didn’t work out the way you planned, huh?”

   Basically: describe the storm, don’t yell at the weather.
   

3. Shrink the demand. Like, aggressively.
   When a kid is overwhelmed, “do the whole thing” isn’t motivating. It’s terrifying.
   Try: “Let’s do the first tiny step together.”
   Or: “Show me the part that feels impossible.”
   

4. Make it clear you’re on their team.
   Say it out loud:
   “You’re not in trouble.”
   “I’m here.”
   “We’ll figure this out.”
   Kids learn faster when they know they won’t lose your love or connection for getting it wrong.
   

5. Save the lesson for later.
   When their brain comes back online.
   When your brain comes back online.
   When nobody is one snap away from regretting everything.

When a kid feels unsafe, their brain doesn’t think, “How do I do better?” It thinks, “How do I protect myself?”

You can’t teach a kid to “handle it better” while they’re melting down like chocolate in a hot car. First, you cool the car. Then you talk about salvaging the chocolate.

Ignorance isn’t bliss.
It’s exhausting.
For them and for us.

Let’s see it as an opportunity for both of us.

Thanks for being you,
Brian

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