Replies to '05/20 The Dr. Phil House: Brat Camp'

Well, most are so quick to open their mouths and voice their unsubstantiated opinions. That is not a good thing. So, here you have it from the horse's mouth.
 
In the first excercise in which the parents were asked to LISTEN to their children, you will recall that on more than one occasion Dr Phil commented "Let's see how the parents really, truly listen to their children." I found this easy. I have always listened to my son Noah. Active listening involves not only keeping your mouth quiet, but also assuming a posture that says "I am interested, I am hearing you." That is what I was doing. If my eyes looked intense, perhaps it was because I was intensely listening. That is a good thing in my book.
 
Another poster on this board mentioned that it looked like I had become accustomed to the abuse. Fair statement. Since being in the Dr Phil house, I have learned to not be a doormat anymore. I am now the mother again, and I have found a way to quietly, yet assertively, demand respect. Again, I was wrong, but I thought that I needed to offer my son an outlet for his anger, and me being the closest person to him, I previously believed that I was his safety net, that I was the person to whom he could get all of his "ick" out with and still be loved.
 
I was wrong. I thought that by allowing my son Noah to carry on with his diatribes that I was actually doing something healthy for him. I thought allowing him to 'get it all off his chest' was a good thing. I have learned, in the last few months. that there is a right way to do that. He now has much clearer boundaries on acceptable ways to express yourself, should you wish to continue to be heard. Within those parameters, I am all ears. Cross the line, and you will not have my attention until your behavioral choices have changed.
 
One poster wrote (regarding my being slapped across my face by Noah) "she sure looked rather composed after it happened." Thank you for that observation. Had I been a hothead, it surely would have looked differently. Others have wrote "I sure would not have just sat there and taken that!" Interesting dichotomy, and it sure illustrates that we are all very good at Monday morning quarterbacking.  Well, at the time, it was a matter of prioritizing. Being in a place of hope, of help....what good would it have done to react?
 
I was beaten, and thus I was willing to turn the situation over to those who deal with situations such as this. I am glad I did not give a complete reactionary response. It may have defeated our purpose in being there at that moment.
 
Interesting quote from Noah on film yesterday. He mentions that he hit me "lightly." He also mentions on the plane that I jabbed him "hard." You saw the slap. If you believe that his words are the truth, and you can truly subscribe to the idea that his slap across my face was indeed light, then and only then can you with a clear conscience believe that my jab to him was 'hard." Usually people that lie about one thing can be assumed to be lying about another.
 
Now, Noah asks me about several abusive moments, and I respond with "I don't recall that." What I really thought was "Quit your damn lying." However, I would squelch another person, my son's, spirit by responding that way. It is far more diplomatic to say "that is not my recollection." There are two ways to tell someone they are wrong. Being a loving mother, I chose the one that would save my son a bit of face.
 
Let it also be put out there that perhaps I am my own worst critic. I think everyone has this continued image of my not being involved in Noah's life. In the last two years, I have taken Noah to family camp, to golf lessons, football games (he plays and it requires a time committment), driven him 900 miles to see the ocean, taken him for a week's vacation in Northern Michigan, taken him to visit friends in another state, taken him to a conference on dealing with grief, and so on. Just today, I surprised him by picking him up early from school for a special lunch date. When I speak of not being there for Noah, perhaps it is because I have set the bar high, and for the first seven years of his life, I succeeded very, very well. Perhaps I am mad at myself for not being happy go lucky, or having a spark in my step. I am sure time and my actively working at changing that will allow us to prevail.
 
In closing, those that have offered supportive comments, I want you to know how I appreciate that. This is a very precarious road that we traverse. Your kindness is appreciated.

Wendy

Well, most are so quick to open their mouths and voice their unsubstantiated opinions. That is not a good thing. So, here you have it from the horse's mouth.
 
In the first excercise in which the parents were asked to LISTEN to their children, you will recall that on more than one occasion Dr Phil commented "Let's see how the parents really, truly listen to their children." I found this easy. I have always listened to my son Noah. Active listening involves not only keeping your mouth quiet, but also assuming a posture that says "I am interested, I am hearing you." That is what I was doing. If my eyes looked intense, perhaps it was because I was intensely listening. That is a good thing in my book.
 
Another poster on this board mentioned that it looked like I had become accustomed to the abuse. Fair statement. Since being in the Dr Phil house, I have learned to not be a doormat anymore. I am now the mother again, and I have found a way to quietly, yet assertively, demand respect. Again, I was wrong, but I thought that I needed to offer my son an outlet for his anger, and me being the closest person to him, I previously believed that I was his safety net, that I was the person to whom he could get all of his "ick" out with and still be loved.
 
I was wrong. I thought that by allowing my son Noah to carry on with his diatribes that I was actually doing something healthy for him. I thought allowing him to 'get it all off his chest' was a good thing. I have learned, in the last few months. that there is a right way to do that. He now has much clearer boundaries on acceptable ways to express yourself, should you wish to continue to be heard. Within those parameters, I am all ears. Cross the line, and you will not have my attention until your behavioral choices have changed.
 
One poster wrote (regarding my being slapped across my face by Noah) "she sure looked rather composed after it happened." Thank you for that observation. Had I been a hothead, it surely would have looked differently. Others have wrote "I sure would not have just sat there and taken that!" Interesting dichotomy, and it sure illustrates that we are all very good at Monday morning quarterbacking.  Well, at the time, it was a matter of prioritizing. Being in a place of hope, of help....what good would it have done to react?
 
I was beaten, and thus I was willing to turn the situation over to those who deal with situations such as this. I am glad I did not give a complete reactionary response. It may have defeated our purpose in being there at that moment.
 
Interesting quote from Noah on film yesterday. He mentions that he hit me "lightly." He also mentions on the plane that I jabbed him "hard." You saw the slap. If you believe that his words are the truth, and you can truly subscribe to the idea that his slap across my face was indeed light, then and only then can you with a clear conscience believe that my jab to him was 'hard." Usually people that lie about one thing can be assumed to be lying about another.
 
Now, Noah asks me about several abusive moments, and I respond with "I don't recall that." What I really thought was "Quit your damn lying." However, I would squelch another person, my son's, spirit by responding that way. It is far more diplomatic to say "that is not my recollection." There are two ways to tell someone they are wrong. Being a loving mother, I chose the one that would save my son a bit of face.
 
Let it also be put out there that perhaps I am my own worst critic. I think everyone has this continued image of my not being involved in Noah's life. In the last two years, I have taken Noah to family camp, to golf lessons, football games (he plays and it requires a time committment), driven him 900 miles to see the ocean, taken him for a week's vacation in Northern Michigan, taken him to visit friends in another state, taken him to a conference on dealing with grief, and so on. Just today, I surprised him by picking him up early from school for a special lunch date. When I speak of not being there for Noah, perhaps it is because I have set the bar high, and for the first seven years of his life, I succeeded very, very well. Perhaps I am mad at myself for not being happy go lucky, or having a spark in my step. I am sure time and my actively working at changing that will allow us to prevail.
 
In closing, those that have offered supportive comments, I want you to know how I appreciate that. This is a very precarious road that we traverse. Your kindness is appreciated.

Wendy

Well, most are so quick to open their mouths and voice their unsubstantiated opinions. That is not a good thing. So, here you have it from the horse's mouth.
 
In the first excercise in which the parents were asked to LISTEN to their children, you will recall that on more than one occasion Dr Phil commented "Let's see how the parents really, truly listen to their children." I found this easy. I have always listened to my son Noah. Active listening involves not only keeping your mouth quiet, but also assuming a posture that says "I am interested, I am hearing you." That is what I was doing. If my eyes looked intense, perhaps it was because I was intensely listening. That is a good thing in my book.
 
Another poster on this board mentioned that it looked like I had become accustomed to the abuse. Fair statement. Since being in the Dr Phil house, I have learned to not be a doormat anymore. I am now the mother again, and I have found a way to quietly, yet assertively, demand respect. Again, I was wrong, but I thought that I needed to offer my son an outlet for his anger, and me being the closest person to him, I previously believed that I was his safety net, that I was the person to whom he could get all of his "ick" out with and still be loved.
 
I was wrong. I thought that by allowing my son Noah to carry on with his diatribes that I was actually doing something healthy for him. I thought allowing him to 'get it all off his chest' was a good thing. I have learned, in the last few months. that there is a right way to do that. He now has much clearer boundaries on acceptable ways to express yourself, should you wish to continue to be heard. Within those parameters, I am all ears. Cross the line, and you will not have my attention until your behavioral choices have changed.
 
One poster wrote (regarding my being slapped across my face by Noah) "she sure looked rather composed after it happened." Thank you for that observation. Had I been a hothead, it surely would have looked differently. Others have wrote "I sure would not have just sat there and taken that!" Interesting dichotomy, and it sure illustrates that we are all very good at Monday morning quarterbacking.  Well, at the time, it was a matter of prioritizing. Being in a place of hope, of help....what good would it have done to react?
 
I was beaten, and thus I was willing to turn the situation over to those who deal with situations such as this. I am glad I did not give a complete reactionary response. It may have defeated our purpose in being there at that moment.
 
Interesting quote from Noah on film yesterday. He mentions that he hit me "lightly." He also mentions on the plane that I jabbed him "hard." You saw the slap. If you believe that his words are the truth, and you can truly subscribe to the idea that his slap across my face was indeed light, then and only then can you with a clear conscience believe that my jab to him was 'hard." Usually people that lie about one thing can be assumed to be lying about another.
 
Now, Noah asks me about several abusive moments, and I respond with "I don't recall that." What I really thought was "Quit your damn lying." However, I would squelch another person, my son's, spirit by responding that way. It is far more diplomatic to say "that is not my recollection." There are two ways to tell someone they are wrong. Being a loving mother, I chose the one that would save my son a bit of face.
 
Let it also be put out there that perhaps I am my own worst critic. I think everyone has this continued image of my not being involved in Noah's life. In the last two years, I have taken Noah to family camp, to golf lessons, football games (he plays and it requires a time committment), driven him 900 miles to see the ocean, taken him for a week's vacation in Northern Michigan, taken him to visit friends in another state, taken him to a conference on dealing with grief, and so on. Just today, I surprised him by picking him up early from school for a special lunch date. When I speak of not being there for Noah, perhaps it is because I have set the bar high, and for the first seven years of his life, I succeeded very, very well. Perhaps I am mad at myself for not being happy go lucky, or having a spark in my step. I am sure time and my actively working at changing that will allow us to prevail.
 
In closing, those that have offered supportive comments, I want you to know how I appreciate that. This is a very precarious road that we traverse. Your kindness is appreciated.

Wendy

Well, most are so quick to open their mouths and voice their unsubstantiated opinions. That is not a good thing. So, here you have it from the horse's mouth.
 
In the first excercise in which the parents were asked to LISTEN to their children, you will recall that on more than one occasion Dr Phil commented "Let's see how the parents really, truly listen to their children." I found this easy. I have always listened to my son Noah. Active listening involves not only keeping your mouth quiet, but also assuming a posture that says "I am interested, I am hearing you." That is what I was doing. If my eyes looked intense, perhaps it was because I was intensely listening. That is a good thing in my book.
 
Another poster on this board mentioned that it looked like I had become accustomed to the abuse. Fair statement. Since being in the Dr Phil house, I have learned to not be a doormat anymore. I am now the mother again, and I have found a way to quietly, yet assertively, demand respect. Again, I was wrong, but I thought that I needed to offer my son an outlet for his anger, and me being the closest person to him, I previously believed that I was his safety net, that I was the person to whom he could get all of his "ick" out with and still be loved.
 
I was wrong. I thought that by allowing my son Noah to carry on with his diatribes that I was actually doing something healthy for him. I thought allowing him to 'get it all off his chest' was a good thing. I have learned, in the last few months. that there is a right way to do that. He now has much clearer boundaries on acceptable ways to express yourself, should you wish to continue to be heard. Within those parameters, I am all ears. Cross the line, and you will not have my attention until your behavioral choices have changed.
 
One poster wrote (regarding my being slapped across my face by Noah) "she sure looked rather composed after it happened." Thank you for that observation. Had I been a hothead, it surely would have looked differently. Others have wrote "I sure would not have just sat there and taken that!" Interesting dichotomy, and it sure illustrates that we are all very good at Monday morning quarterbacking.  Well, at the time, it was a matter of prioritizing. Being in a place of hope, of help....what good would it have done to react?
 
I was beaten, and thus I was willing to turn the situation over to those who deal with situations such as this. I am glad I did not give a complete reactionary response. It may have defeated our purpose in being there at that moment.
 
Interesting quote from Noah on film yesterday. He mentions that he hit me "lightly." He also mentions on the plane that I jabbed him "hard." You saw the slap. If you believe that his words are the truth, and you can truly subscribe to the idea that his slap across my face was indeed light, then and only then can you with a clear conscience believe that my jab to him was 'hard." Usually people that lie about one thing can be assumed to be lying about another.
 
Now, Noah asks me about several abusive moments, and I respond with "I don't recall that." What I really thought was "Quit your damn lying." However, I would squelch another person, my son's, spirit by responding that way. It is far more diplomatic to say "that is not my recollection." There are two ways to tell someone they are wrong. Being a loving mother, I chose the one that would save my son a bit of face.
 
Let it also be put out there that perhaps I am my own worst critic. I think everyone has this continued image of my not being involved in Noah's life. In the last two years, I have taken Noah to family camp, to golf lessons, football games (he plays and it requires a time committment), driven him 900 miles to see the ocean, taken him for a week's vacation in Northern Michigan, taken him to visit friends in another state, taken him to a conference on dealing with grief, and so on. Just today, I surprised him by picking him up early from school for a special lunch date. When I speak of not being there for Noah, perhaps it is because I have set the bar high, and for the first seven years of his life, I succeeded very, very well. Perhaps I am mad at myself for not being happy go lucky, or having a spark in my step. I am sure time and my actively working at changing that will allow us to prevail.
 
In closing, those that have offered supportive comments, I want you to know how I appreciate that. This is a very precarious road that we traverse. Your kindness is appreciated.

Wendy

Well, most are so quick to open their mouths and voice their unsubstantiated opinions. That is not a good thing. So, here you have it from the horse's mouth.
 
In the first excercise in which the parents were asked to LISTEN to their children, you will recall that on more than one occasion Dr Phil commented "Let's see how the parents really, truly listen to their children." I found this easy. I have always listened to my son Noah. Active listening involves not only keeping your mouth quiet, but also assuming a posture that says "I am interested, I am hearing you." That is what I was doing. If my eyes looked intense, perhaps it was because I was intensely listening. That is a good thing in my book.
 
Another poster on this board mentioned that it looked like I had become accustomed to the abuse. Fair statement. Since being in the Dr Phil house, I have learned to not be a doormat anymore. I am now the mother again, and I have found a way to quietly, yet assertively, demand respect. Again, I was wrong, but I thought that I needed to offer my son an outlet for his anger, and me being the closest person to him, I previously believed that I was his safety net, that I was the person to whom he could get all of his "ick" out with and still be loved.
 
I was wrong. I thought that by allowing my son Noah to carry on with his diatribes that I was actually doing something healthy for him. I thought allowing him to 'get it all off his chest' was a good thing. I have learned, in the last few months. that there is a right way to do that. He now has much clearer boundaries on acceptable ways to express yourself, should you wish to continue to be heard. Within those parameters, I am all ears. Cross the line, and you will not have my attention until your behavioral choices have changed.
 
One poster wrote (regarding my being slapped across my face by Noah) "she sure looked rather composed after it happened." Thank you for that observation. Had I been a hothead, it surely would have looked differently. Others have wrote "I sure would not have just sat there and taken that!" Interesting dichotomy, and it sure illustrates that we are all very good at Monday morning quarterbacking.  Well, at the time, it was a matter of prioritizing. Being in a place of hope, of help....what good would it have done to react?
 
I was beaten, and thus I was willing to turn the situation over to those who deal with situations such as this. I am glad I did not give a complete reactionary response. It may have defeated our purpose in being there at that moment.
 
Interesting quote from Noah on film yesterday. He mentions that he hit me "lightly." He also mentions on the plane that I jabbed him "hard." You saw the slap. If you believe that his words are the truth, and you can truly subscribe to the idea that his slap across my face was indeed light, then and only then can you with a clear conscience believe that my jab to him was 'hard." Usually people that lie about one thing can be assumed to be lying about another.
 
Now, Noah asks me about several abusive moments, and I respond with "I don't recall that." What I really thought was "Quit your damn lying." However, I would squelch another person, my son's, spirit by responding that way. It is far more diplomatic to say "that is not my recollection." There are two ways to tell someone they are wrong. Being a loving mother, I chose the one that would save my son a bit of face.
 
Let it also be put out there that perhaps I am my own worst critic. I think everyone has this continued image of my not being involved in Noah's life. In the last two years, I have taken Noah to family camp, to golf lessons, football games (he plays and it requires a time committment), driven him 900 miles to see the ocean, taken him for a week's vacation in Northern Michigan, taken him to visit friends in another state, taken him to a conference on dealing with grief, and so on. Just today, I surprised him by picking him up early from school for a special lunch date. When I speak of not being there for Noah, perhaps it is because I have set the bar high, and for the first seven years of his life, I succeeded very, very well. Perhaps I am mad at myself for not being happy go lucky, or having a spark in my step. I am sure time and my actively working at changing that will allow us to prevail.
 
In closing, those that have offered supportive comments, I want you to know how I appreciate that. This is a very precarious road that we traverse. Your kindness is appreciated.

Wendy

Well, most are so quick to open their mouths and voice their unsubstantiated opinions. That is not a good thing. So, here you have it from the horse's mouth.
 
In the first excercise in which the parents were asked to LISTEN to their children, you will recall that on more than one occasion Dr Phil commented "Let's see how the parents really, truly listen to their children." I found this easy. I have always listened to my son Noah. Active listening involves not only keeping your mouth quiet, but also assuming a posture that says "I am interested, I am hearing you." That is what I was doing. If my eyes looked intense, perhaps it was because I was intensely listening. That is a good thing in my book.
 
Another poster on this board mentioned that it looked like I had become accustomed to the abuse. Fair statement. Since being in the Dr Phil house, I have learned to not be a doormat anymore. I am now the mother again, and I have found a way to quietly, yet assertively, demand respect. Again, I was wrong, but I thought that I needed to offer my son an outlet for his anger, and me being the closest person to him, I previously believed that I was his safety net, that I was the person to whom he could get all of his "ick" out with and still be loved.
 
I was wrong. I thought that by allowing my son Noah to carry on with his diatribes that I was actually doing something healthy for him. I thought allowing him to 'get it all off his chest' was a good thing. I have learned, in the last few months. that there is a right way to do that. He now has much clearer boundaries on acceptable ways to express yourself, should you wish to continue to be heard. Within those parameters, I am all ears. Cross the line, and you will not have my attention until your behavioral choices have changed.
 
One poster wrote (regarding my being slapped across my face by Noah) "she sure looked rather composed after it happened." Thank you for that observation. Had I been a hothead, it surely would have looked differently. Others have wrote "I sure would not have just sat there and taken that!" Interesting dichotomy, and it sure illustrates that we are all very good at Monday morning quarterbacking.  Well, at the time, it was a matter of prioritizing. Being in a place of hope, of help....what good would it have done to react?
 
I was beaten, and thus I was willing to turn the situation over to those who deal with situations such as this. I am glad I did not give a complete reactionary response. It may have defeated our purpose in being there at that moment.
 
Interesting quote from Noah on film yesterday. He mentions that he hit me "lightly." He also mentions on the plane that I jabbed him "hard." You saw the slap. If you believe that his words are the truth, and you can truly subscribe to the idea that his slap across my face was indeed light, then and only then can you with a clear conscience believe that my jab to him was 'hard." Usually people that lie about one thing can be assumed to be lying about another.
 
Now, Noah asks me about several abusive moments, and I respond with "I don't recall that." What I really thought was "Quit your damn lying." However, I would squelch another person, my son's, spirit by responding that way. It is far more diplomatic to say "that is not my recollection." There are two ways to tell someone they are wrong. Being a loving mother, I chose the one that would save my son a bit of face.
 
Let it also be put out there that perhaps I am my own worst critic. I think everyone has this continued image of my not being involved in Noah's life. In the last two years, I have taken Noah to family camp, to golf lessons, football games (he plays and it requires a time committment), driven him 900 miles to see the ocean, taken him for a week's vacation in Northern Michigan, taken him to visit friends in another state, taken him to a conference on dealing with grief, and so on. Just today, I surprised him by picking him up early from school for a special lunch date. When I speak of not being there for Noah, perhaps it is because I have set the bar high, and for the first seven years of his life, I succeeded very, very well. Perhaps I am mad at myself for not being happy go lucky, or having a spark in my step. I am sure time and my actively working at changing that will allow us to prevail.
 
In closing, those that have offered supportive comments, I want you to know how I appreciate that. This is a very precarious road that we traverse. Your kindness is appreciated.

Wendy

Well, most are so quick to open their mouths and voice their unsubstantiated opinions. That is not a good thing. So, here you have it from the horse's mouth.
 
In the first excercise in which the parents were asked to LISTEN to their children, you will recall that on more than one occasion Dr Phil commented "Let's see how the parents really, truly listen to their children." I found this easy. I have always listened to my son Noah. Active listening involves not only keeping your mouth quiet, but also assuming a posture that says "I am interested, I am hearing you." That is what I was doing. If my eyes looked intense, perhaps it was because I was intensely listening. That is a good thing in my book.
 
Another poster on this board mentioned that it looked like I had become accustomed to the abuse. Fair statement. Since being in the Dr Phil house, I have learned to not be a doormat anymore. I am now the mother again, and I have found a way to quietly, yet assertively, demand respect. Again, I was wrong, but I thought that I needed to offer my son an outlet for his anger, and me being the closest person to him, I previously believed that I was his safety net, that I was the person to whom he could get all of his "ick" out with and still be loved.
 
I was wrong. I thought that by allowing my son Noah to carry on with his diatribes that I was actually doing something healthy for him. I thought allowing him to 'get it all off his chest' was a good thing. I have learned, in the last few months. that there is a right way to do that. He now has much clearer boundaries on acceptable ways to express yourself, should you wish to continue to be heard. Within those parameters, I am all ears. Cross the line, and you will not have my attention until your behavioral choices have changed.
 
One poster wrote (regarding my being slapped across my face by Noah) "she sure looked rather composed after it happened." Thank you for that observation. Had I been a hothead, it surely would have looked differently. Others have wrote "I sure would not have just sat there and taken that!" Interesting dichotomy, and it sure illustrates that we are all very good at Monday morning quarterbacking.  Well, at the time, it was a matter of prioritizing. Being in a place of hope, of help....what good would it have done to react?
 
I was beaten, and thus I was willing to turn the situation over to those who deal with situations such as this. I am glad I did not give a complete reactionary response. It may have defeated our purpose in being there at that moment.
 
Interesting quote from Noah on film yesterday. He mentions that he hit me "lightly." He also mentions on the plane that I jabbed him "hard." You saw the slap. If you believe that his words are the truth, and you can truly subscribe to the idea that his slap across my face was indeed light, then and only then can you with a clear conscience believe that my jab to him was 'hard." Usually people that lie about one thing can be assumed to be lying about another.
 
Now, Noah asks me about several abusive moments, and I respond with "I don't recall that." What I really thought was "Quit your damn lying." However, I would squelch another person, my son's, spirit by responding that way. It is far more diplomatic to say "that is not my recollection." There are two ways to tell someone they are wrong. Being a loving mother, I chose the one that would save my son a bit of face.
 
Let it also be put out there that perhaps I am my own worst critic. I think everyone has this continued image of my not being involved in Noah's life. In the last two years, I have taken Noah to family camp, to golf lessons, football games (he plays and it requires a time committment), driven him 900 miles to see the ocean, taken him for a week's vacation in Northern Michigan, taken him to visit friends in another state, taken him to a conference on dealing with grief, and so on. Just today, I surprised him by picking him up early from school for a special lunch date. When I speak of not being there for Noah, perhaps it is because I have set the bar high, and for the first seven years of his life, I succeeded very, very well. Perhaps I am mad at myself for not being happy go lucky, or having a spark in my step. I am sure time and my actively working at changing that will allow us to prevail.
 
In closing, those that have offered supportive comments, I want you to know how I appreciate that. This is a very precarious road that we traverse. Your kindness is appreciated.

Wendy