Before You Tell Your Son to Toughen Up

Learning sympathy and patience the hard way.

Another meal, which meant another time my youngest son complained about gas, whining and squirming and not eating much. It only seemed to be a problem at the dinner table.

Everyone was sick of it. I assumed he was overreacting. It had been almost a week of scrunched-up faces and whimpers. Annoying, to say the least. I told him to suck it up, and to eat his food. No more whining. No more complaining.

He obeyed, but looked sad doing it.

I thought he was exaggerating for attention, so I made sure to spend some more intentional time with him, and even helped him keep a food journal to track what might be causing the issue. Which, again, I didn’t think really existed or was a big deal.

It finally resolved itself, and I forgot about the whole episode. Then, one week later, I flew home from a trip and had a deep, lingering pain in my stomach. It lingered for almost 3 days, getting worse. I didn’t eat. I could barely sleep. No medication touched it. Lying on one side brought some slight relief, taking the edge off. My abdomen felt like there was a mix of gravel and razor blades shifting around. I knew it wasn’t my appendix, but at some point, I thought it might be a severe bladder infection.

So I went to the ER right after a snowstorm. I had to call a friend with his truck to brave the white-mounded roads.

What was the problem? You’ve probably guessed it.

Gas. Trapped near the top of my intestines. Debilitating pain. And the next day, it was gone.

After that, I had additional respect for what my son might have been going through, and I told him. I had learned some sympathy and patience, and I had learned them good and hard. It was the good kind of suffering, the type that brings clarity and gratitude in its aftermath, with no long-term negative consequences. Like God reached down his hand and said, “Let me teach you an important lesson.”

Don’t be so quick to shrug off the concerns of your children. Even if you don’t think they are legitimate concerns, in their mind, with their smaller world, they are real concerns. Handle with care. Many experiences are new, especially pain; deal with it appropriately. A soft touch goes a long way, and doesn’t preclude a strong will or high standards.

It could be that my son needed to man up and stop complaining about the same thing over and over, but it was also true that I dealt with him too harshly. We both learned valuable lessons.

Think back to when you were a child. Remember when you had what you thought was a serious problem, something that seemed as big as the world and insurmountable. What do you wish your parents had done? How do you wish they had handled it? Did you wish they had taken it more seriously?

Don’t drudge it up to be bitter about it, but rather to inform your own attitude. Fatherhood is hard work that requires nuance, clear thinking, and patience. Maybe you can teach yourself the lesson without personally going through pain. That shortcut is the definition of wisdom.