Is Beyond Behaviors Worth Reading For Parents?

a really good book for you. I hope you like it becuase it tells you a good story. Please read it.

Mom was a top student at a prestigious school and had always been determined to be the best at everything. She demanded that I learn to walk by seven months, speak fluently by eighteen months, and master all addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division by the age of three. I did all of it. Yet Mom still felt it wasn’t enough. However, when my younger brother, Liam, didn’t speak until he was five, Mom clapped and cheered when he finally did, celebrating his “late-blooming brilliance”. I didn’t think anything of it. Until one day, I was wearing headphones, memorizing Spanish words, and accidentally let the sound leak out, scaring Liam. He clutched his chest and cried, saying his heart hurt. Mom’s eyes turned red as she stormed over and slapped me. Then she grabbed my ear, twisting it a full 360 degrees with all her strength. The pain in my ear was so intense that I lost all feeling, and the fear made me nauseous to the point of vomiting. Still, Mom forced the headphones back on, cranked the volume to the maximum, and locked me in the storage room to reflect. “How could I give birth to such a terrible child? You’re just jealous of Liam. No matter how much I do for you, you’ll never appreciate it! “Love listening to words, huh? Then listen all you want.” But seven days later, when she opened the door, she completely lost it.

Three days after the SAT scores were released, I came across a post asking for advice. [Both my older and younger sons are going to Northbridge for college. How should I split their living expenses so it's fair?] The comments were almost unanimous. [Why is this even a question? They're both your kids. Give them the same amount. That's the fairest way to do things.] I was about to scroll past when the newest top comment caught my eye. The profile picture belonged to my sister. [Don't judge when you don't know the whole story.] [I'm their older sister, so let me be honest. You can't raise two boys the same way.] [The older one is pretty average-looking, and he's awkward and quiet. Even if you gave him money, he wouldn't know what to spend it on. Meanwhile, the younger one is outgoing and handsome, with great style. One pair of his limited-edition shoes costs over $2,000.] [If you ask me, the older one should get $800, and the younger one should get $8,000. Each child should get the amount they need.] Beneath her comment was a reply from my childhood best friend, Whitney Jones. [Couldn't have said it better myself!] [Besides, we'll all be in Northbridge anyway. We can keep your younger brother company, so your mom won't have to worry about him back home.] Staring at the screen, I suddenly laughed until tears blurred my vision. When we were kids, we would play hide-and-seek. All of them would sneak off together, hand in hand, leaving me alone in the dark attic, covering my eyes and counting. Back then, I honestly believed that if I searched hard enough, I would eventually find them and become part of their little world. However, every time I opened my eyes, they had already slipped away with my younger brother, leaving to buy ice cream without me. It turned out nothing had changed since then. They were still walking side by side toward the bright lights of Northbridge, while I remained nothing more than an afterthought, someone brought along just for the sake of the picture. I deleted every university in Northbridge from my list and replaced them with schools in the far south, more than a thousand miles from home. I was done playing the loyal supporting character in someone else's fairy tale. Their game could go on without me.

Half a year after our divorce, my ex-husband became a trending topic online. His current wife, who had just given birth, jumped off a building. When she jumped, she was clutching a printed, 98-page copy of the "Cloves Family Code of Conduct." The reason for her suicide? She couldn’t buy discounted groceries online. A reporter came to interview me and asked, "Excuse me, were you also given the same family rules?"

My name is Chase Murphy. I've been married to Jessica Stanton for three years. After she tells me that she's infertile, she brings home two children from an orphanage. I raise them as my own, investing everything I have into their lives. But in return, they push me down the stairs without a second thought. "Now our real dad can finally be with Mom." In that split second, the truth crashes down on me. These aren't just any children—they belong to Jessica and her first love, Troy McPoland. When I open my eyes again, I find myself transported back to the day Jessica first introduces the children into our lives. This time, I'm done being the fool raising someone else's family.

Since I can remember, I have been a liar. That is the conclusion my mother made about me. After my twin brother, Daniel Benson, and I are born, she becomes obsessed with a so-called scientific parenting method. So, she puts a lie-detecting collar on each of us. Whenever we lie, the collar lights up in red. The moment it turns red, she presses a remote and shocks me. She says it will help form muscle memory to correct the bad character in me. Daniel's collar is always green. Even when he tears my mom's favorite clothes to shreds and calmly claims a dog does it, the collar still glows green. But I am different. Even if I just say, "Mom, I’m thirsty," The collar would suddenly flash a blinding red light. Then, a current shoots through my neck and into my body, making me tremble in pain. At first, I try to explain. But my mom always says the same thing. "The machine doesn't lie. You have to feel pain to learn. I'm doing this for your own good." After being shocked thousands of times, I slowly start to believe that maybe I am truly born a liar.