My patience tank was running low. His anger barometer was rising rapidly. This most recent clash was over fingernails. My Son, C, has an irrational fear of cutting fingernails. It is a phobia that probably came from some trauma when he was younger where I accidentally pushed the nail cutter too deep in and cut his flesh.
Each time I cut his fingernails, his instinct was to pull his hand back. I had to hold his hand firmly and remind him not to move in order for the nail cutter to remain steady. Still, I couldn’t help but hurt him sometimes when he made sudden movements. It then reinforced the idea that nail cutting was a scary experience.
Several times before, I had persuaded him to learn how to cut his fingernails himself. That would give him control and he could feel for himself how close the nail cutter could go. At 8, he is capable of doing so. But the sight of the nail cutter was enough to make him curl into a ball like a hedgehog.
Coaxing him to cut his long, unsightly fingernails could take anywhere from hours to days.
“Let’s cut your nails today,” I said.
“Can we please do it tomorrow instead?” he pleaded.
When tomorrow came, he would delay it again.
It was ridiculous and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry sometimes. But yesterday, my patience really ran low. We finally sat down to do it. As was the norm, I held his hand down, positioned the nail cutter on one fingernail to let him check that it was not too deep in. He had to give the ‘okay’ for me push the lever down and make the cut.
‘Okay?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Cut.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
Cut.
Suddenly, C let out a loud “Oooooowww! Its painful!”
Tears flowed and he clutched his third finger tightly. The hedgehog curled up again. I was quite sure I didn’t cut too deep in and was skeptical about his pain. Perhaps he was just exaggerating and the pain was more psychological than real? In that split second, I was going to say things like, “Come on, it can’t be that painful?”, or “It’s just a small thing! You’re not dying.” Then I reminded myself that dismissing his hurt would not help matters but only make him feel small and useless.
So, holding my skepticism in, I chose to blow gently on his fingers and ask if he was feeling better.
I encouraged him once again to try doing it himself. It was that or to let me continue with the task and risk getting hurt again. Long fingernails was not an option. I demonstrated to him where to position his thumb and second finger, how to angle his other hand so that it would be easy to cut his nails. I clipped a few of my nails to show how easy it was. Then I put the clippers in his hand.
He sat there, fiddling with it for a while. Then, after a bit more coaxing, he decided to give it a try.
Wow. Breakthrough. He was going to cut his nails himself for the first time.
The whole nail cutting session that followed involved was like a TV comedy. There were lots of fumbling, whining and failing on his part. I could not understand what was so difficult about pressing the lever down as it kept shifting out of position in his hand. I fumbled too in trying to find the simplest language and movements to explain the mechanics of a nail cutter.
“You need to keep the lever straight.”
“You’ve held the nail cutter upside down!”
“You need to hear the click sound. That means your nail has been cut.”
“The thumb should be on top, not your second finger.”
Sometimes, he succeeded but only the tiniest whisker of fingernail fell from the blade. You can imagine how long the process took just to cut 10 little fingernails. I was getting really exasperated. All the tasks waiting to be done were delayed.
However, when I saw C’s eyes light up with wonder each time he made a successful cut, my heart softened. ‘Click!’ The nail cutter went. What was easy and second nature to me was a demanding new skill that needed tremendous effort from my son to learn. As an adult, I had forgotten what it was like for a child to face a new skill, no matter how simple it seemed, like combing hair, or folding blankets. Patience is trained in circumstances such as these— unforeseen delays, interruptions to housework or a teachable moment that had to be seized.
So there I remained. Choosing to sit patiently next to him. Choosing not to criticise how crooked his fingernails looked. At least they were shorter and cleaner. After he was done, he allowed me to file his nails to smoothen the sharp edges. The whole process took close to an hour for a task that could have just taken 5 minutes. But hey. It was a milestone. He finally cut his fingernails on his own.
Lessons On Dealing With A Child’s Fears
- On hindsight, I wondered why he agreed to learn to cut fingernails himself that day when my previous attempts to get him to do so failed. I think as parents, we need to keep pushing the envelope when it comes to helping our child overcome a fear. Plant suggestions, but don’t force. Take small incremental steps. My previous encouragements and rationalisations must have built up and reached a tipping point where C is finally convinced to try. A slight increase in the belief that he could do it. A slight increase in frustration with mummy for not doing the job right pushed him to take over himself. Whatever the case, it has taught me to persevere and continually encourage my son to overcome his fears.
- I was thankful that I did not dismiss his fears or call him a baby. Facts and logic about how easy nail cutting was wouldn’t have helped since I was dealing with an irrational fear. I didn’t want him to see himself as inept or cowardly. I wanted him to see himself as someone who was willing to try something even if he was scared (See my previous post on growing character strengths) By accepting our child’s fears, we let them know that it’s ok to be scared.
- Finally, this experience taught me what it means to journey with our child. Initially, I felt like the whole afternoon was unproductive. So much time wasted on a trivial activity. On second thoughts, if I had not sat with him for the whole hour while he was cutting his fingernails, he might not have finished the task. Several times, he dropped the nail cutter and wanted to give up. I had to put the nail cutter back in his hand, help him stabilize his finger etc. Show the way. Walk next to our child. That hour became a very precious experience for me to grow my patience and for him to develop independence.