Not all the feedback we received was positive. Some people were disappointed at not finding more help for children who had serious or complex problems. Others were unhappy at not having their particular questions answered. Still others were frustrated because they had made a genuine effort to say or do things differently with little or no success. Their common refrain was “I tried it, but it didn’t work.”
When we asked what actually happened and heard the details of their experience, it was almost always easy to see what went wrong and why. Evidently, there were some ideas we needed to develop more fully. Here are some of the comments and questions we heard, along with our responses:
About Choices
I gave my teenager a choice and it backfired. I told him he could either get a haircut and come to Thanksgiving dinner or he could have Thanksgiving dinner in his room and that it was up to him.
He said, “Fine, I’ll have it in my room.” I was shocked. I said, “What?! You would do that to me! And to your family?” He just turned his back on me and walked away. Maybe choices don’t work with teenagers.
Before you offer a child of any age a choice, it helps to ask yourself, “Are both of these options acceptable to me and likely to be acceptable to my child?” Or are these choices really threats in disguise? Will he experience me as using a technique to try to manipulate him? At its best, the subtext of a choice should be “I’m on your side. There’s something I want you to do (or not do), but rather than giving you an order I’d like to give you some say in the matter.”
What choice could you have given your teenage son about his hair? Chances are, none. Most teenagers experience almost any parental comment about their hair—the style, the color, the length, the cleanliness or lack thereof as an invasion of their personal space.
But suppose you can’t contain yourself? If you’re willing to risk moving into this sensitive area, approach with caution: “I know it’s none of my business; however, if you could consider the possibility of allowing the barber to remove just enough hair so that we could see your eyes, you’d have a thankful mother on Thanksgiving.”
Then make a quick exit.
What do you do if you give your child two choices and she rejects both of them? The doctor prescribed a medicine for my daughter that she hates, and I did exactly what you suggested. I told her that she could have it with apple juice or ginger ale. She said, “I don’t want either one,” and clamped her mouth shut.
When children have strong negative feelings about doing something, they’re not likely to be receptive to any choices. If you want your daughter to be open to the options you offer, you need to start by giving her full respect for her negative feelings: “Boy, I can see by the way you’re wrinkling your nose how much you hate even the thought of taking that medicine.” A statement like that can relax her. It says, “Mom understands and is on my side.” Now your daughter is more emotionally ready to consider your words. “So, honey, what could make it less awful for you—taking it with juice or ginger ale? Or can you think of something that would help—even a little.” Actually, the possibilities for choices are endless:
Do you want to take it fast or slow?
With your eyes open or closed?
With the big spoon or the little spoon?
Holding your nose or your toes?
While I sing or while I’m quiet?
Should I give it to you or would you rather take it yourself?
The point is, some things are easier to swallow if someone understands how hard it is for you, and if you have a small say in how it goes down.
About Consequences
Another communication breakdown occurred when consequences were included in the problem-solving process. One parent told us how disappointed she was when the one time she tried to work out a solution with her children they all ended up in a big fight.
I called a family meeting and told the kids what the vet said about our dog being seriously overweight and not getting enough exercise. We were going through all the problem-solving steps together and making good progress, deciding who would be responsible for what and at what time, when my middle son asked what the consequence would be if someone didn’t do his job. My oldest suggested no TV for one night. The other two said that wasn’t fair. To make a long story short, we all wound up in this big argument about what a fair consequence should be, with everybody mad at one another and no plan about what to do for the dog. I can only conclude that my boys just aren’t mature enough for problem-solving.
It is not a good idea to bring up consequences when you’re trying to solve a problem. The whole process is geared toward creating trust and goodwill. As soon as the idea of a consequence for failure is introduced, the atmosphere is poisoned. Doubt is created, motivation is killed, and trust is destroyed.
When a child asks what the consequence would be if he doesn’t do his part, the parent can respond, “I don’t want us even to think about consequences. Right now we need to figure out how to make sure our dog gets healthy and stays healthy. It will take all of us working together to make that happen.
“We understand there will be times when we won’t feel like doing our part. But we’ll do it anyway, because we don’t want to let one another or our dog down. And if someone gets sick or there’s an emergency we’ll take turns getting the job done. In this family, we all look out for one another.”
Alternatives to “But”
A number of parents complained that when they acknowledged their children’s feelings the children became even more upset. When we asked exactly what they said, the problem became clear. Each of their empathic statements included a “but.” We pointed out that the word but tends to dismiss, diminish, or erase all that went before. Here is each parent’s original statement, with our suggested revision that eliminates the “but.”
Original statement: “You sound so disappointed about missing Julie’s party. But the fact is you have a bad cold. Besides, it’s only one party. There will be plenty of other parties in your life.”
Child thinks: “Dad just doesn’t understand.”
Revised statement: (Instead of “butting away” the feeling, give it full value.) “You sound so disappointed about missing Julie’s party. You were looking forward to celebrating your friend’s birthday with her. The last place on earth you wanted to be today was in bed with a fever.”
If Dad is feeling expansive, he can express what his daughter might wish: “Don’t you wish someone would finally discover a cure for the common cold?”
Original statement: “I know how much you hate the thought of having a sitter again, but I need to go to the dentist.”
Child thinks: “You always have a reason to leave me.”
Revised statement: (Delete “but.” Substitute “The problem is . . .”) “I know how much you hate the thought of having a sitter again. The problem is I need to go to the dentist.”
What’s the difference? As one father commented, “‘But’ feels like a door slammed in your face. ‘The problem is’ opens the door and invites you to consider a possible solution.” The child might say, “Maybe while you’re at the dentist I could play at Gary’s house.” Mom might say, “Maybe you could come with me and read a book in the waiting room.” Then again, there might not be a solution that satisfies the child. Nevertheless, by acknowledging that there is a problem we make it easier for him to deal with it.
Original statement: “Holly, I can see how unhappy you are about your haircut. But you’ll see, it will grow. In a few weeks you won’t even notice it.”
Child thinks: “No kidding. Like I couldn’t figure that out for myself.”
Revised statement: (Delete “but.” Substitute “And even though you know.”) “Holly, I can see how very unhappy you are about your haircut. And even though you know it will grow, you still wish somebody would have listened to you when you said you wanted only an inch taken off.”
By prefacing your statement with and even though you know, you credit your daughter’s intelligence and make your point without dismissing hers.
“Why Did You . . . ?” “Why Didn’t You . . . ?”
Some parents complained because they felt that they went out of their way to be understanding of their children only to be met with a hostile response.
As a new stepmother I’m well aware of how important it is not to be critical of the children. I leave the discipline up to their father. But when he was out of town and the teacher sent a note saying my stepson’s report was overdue, I knew I had to handle it. I was very calm. I just asked him, in a friendly way, why he didn’t get his report in on time, and he exploded at me. Why?
Any sentence that begins with Why did you or Why didn’t you can feel like an accusation. The question forces a youngster to think about his shortcomings. Beneath your friendly “Why didn’t you,” he may hear, “Isn’t it because you’re lazy, disorganized, irresponsible, and a hopeless procrastinator?”
Now he’s on the spot. How shall he answer you? He’s left with two untenable choices. He can either own up to his inadequacies or he can try to defend himself and make excuses for them: “Because the assignment wasn’t clear . . . Because the library was closed, etc.” In either case, he becomes more upset with himself, more angry at you, and less likely to think about how to remedy the situation.
What might you substitute that would lead to a nondefensive reaction? You can turn the problem over to your stepson and offer your support. As you hand him the note from his teacher, you can say:
“This was addressed to Dad and me, but you’re the person who will know how to take care of it. If there’s anything getting in the way of starting or finishing the report, or if you want someone to bounce some ideas off, I’m here.”
Several parents were disappointed at reading the book from cover to cover and not finding anything about “time-out.” Initially, we were puzzled by the comment. We had raised six children between us without ever sending anyone to time-out. Then, little by little, we began to notice a groundswell of books and magazine articles advocating time-out as a new disciplinary method, a humane alternative to spanking, and instructing parents on precisely how to carry out the procedure successfully.
How could we not consider it? The explanation seemed almost reasonable. By sending the misbehaving child into another space or place, with nothing to distract him—no books, toys, or games—and insisting that he sit there for a specified amount of time, one minute for each year of his life—the child will soon see the error of his ways and return chastened and well behaved.
But the more we thought about it and the more we read about it in all its variations, the less we liked it. To us it seemed that time-out was not new or innovative but an updated version of the outdated practice of making a “naughty” child stand in the corner.
We wondered, suppose Billy hits his little sister because she keeps pulling on his arm while he’s trying to draw and Mom, in a fury, sends him to “do-time” in his time-out chair. She claims that’s better than hitting Billy for hitting his sister. But what might be going on in Billy’s mind as he’s sitting there? Is he thinking, “Now I’ve learned my lesson. I must never hit my sister again, no matter what she does.” Or is he feeling, “No fair! Mom doesn’t care about me. She only cares about my stupid sister. I’ll fix her when Mom’s not looking.” Or is he concluding, “I’m so bad, I deserve to be sitting here all by myself.”
It is our conviction that the child who is misbehaving does not need to be banished from the members of his family, even temporarily. However, he does need to be stopped and redirected: “Billy, no hitting! You can tell your sister, with words, how mad it makes you feel when she pulls on your arm while you’re trying to draw.”
But suppose Billy tells her and suppose she continues pulling? And suppose Billy hits her again? Doesn’t that call for time-out?
Sending Billy to “solitary” might stop the behavior for the moment, but it doesn’t address the underlying problem. What Billy needs is not time out but private time with a caring adult who will help him deal with his feelings and figure out better ways to handle them. Mom might say, “It’s not easy to have a little sister who’s always pulling at you to get your attention. Today she made you so angry that you hit her. Billy, I can’t allow either one of my children to hit the other. We need to make a list of things you can do instead if she bothers you again when you’re trying to draw.”
What are some alternatives to hitting?
• Billy could yell “Stop!” in her face—very loud.
• He could push her hand away—gently.
• He could give her her own piece of paper and a crayon.
• He could give her something else to play with.
• He could draw when his sister is napping.
• He could draw in his room with the door closed.
• If nothing else works, he can call Mom for help.
Billy can post his list of solutions wherever he likes and consult it whenever the need arises. He no longer sees himself as someone who acts so bad when he’s mad that he needs to be sent away but as a responsible person who has many ways to cope with his anger.
About Spouses and Significant Others
A number of our readers shared a common frustration. They found nothing in the book about how to get through to a resistant spouse.
I’m trying to change the way I talk to the children, but I’m being undermined by a husband/wife/partner who doesn’t go along with my new approach. Do you have any suggestions for me?
When the same question arose at one of our lectures, we asked people in the audience what they had done. Here are their responses:
• I talk to my husband about the changes I’m trying to make. That way, he feels included in the process but doesn’t feel any pressure to have to change himself.
• We keep the book in the car. Whoever isn’t driving reads a little bit aloud and then we talk about it.
• My husband won’t read books on parenting. He’s from the “what’s the difference what you say, as long as your kids know you love them” school. Finally, I told him, “Look, when we decided to have children we knew we wanted to do right by them. We wouldn’t think of dressing them in rags or giving them a diet of junk food. Well by the same token, why would we talk to them in ways that aren’t healthy—especially if there are better options out there? Our kids deserve the best—from both of us.”
• I try to involve my husband by asking his advice about the best way to handle certain situations with our two sons. I’ll say something like “Honey, I need to bounce this off you. This is an area where I have no experience, since I was never a little boy. Now, what would make you more likely to want to cooperate—if your mother said this to you or if she said that?” Usually, he answers right away, but sometimes he’ll think about it and come up with a suggestion I never would have thought of.
• My wife hates it when I tell her what to say or how to say it. It’s best if I just use the skills myself and say nothing. Something must be rubbing off on her, because the other morning as we were rushing to get out, my daughter refused to put on her jacket. Instead of arguing, my wife gave her a choice. She asked her if she wanted to wear it regular or backward. My daughter giggled, picked backward, and off we went.
The Power of Playfulness
Several parents took us to task for not including a chapter on humor. In our defense, we explained that when we were writing the chapter on “Engaging Cooperation” we actually did debate the pros and cons of including humor. We knew how doing anything offbeat or unexpected could change the mood in seconds from mad to glad. But how could we ask parents, with everything else they had to do, to “be funny.” So we limited ourselves to two short paragraphs about humor. Big mistake. Parents, we discovered, are funny. Even those who don’t believe they can be. Anytime we had a workshop, anywhere in the country, and asked the very serious, grown-up parents to get in touch with the playful, funny, silly, zany, kid part of themselves, they did. They came up with the most delightful examples of what could be done or what they had done to raise their own spirits and melt their children’s resistance.
Sometimes my three-year-old refuses to get dressed because he wants me to do it for him. When he gets in this mood, I put his underwear on his head and try to put his socks on his hands. He, of course, tells me I’m doing it wrong and then puts his underwear on and his socks on his feet. Then he says, “See, Mommy, this is how it goes.” I act completely surprised and try to put his pants on his arms or his shirt on his legs. The game always ends with laughter and hugs.
• • •
To get my son to brush his teeth we invented germs—Geraldine and Joe—who would be hiding. So we would brush each spot while they would sing, “We’re having a party in Benjamin’s mouth.” Then they would scream when he brushed them and yell when he spit them down the drain. They would call out, “We’ll be back!”
The challenge of maintaining a semblance of order in any home with children of any age seemed to generate the most creative solutions. Here’s what some parents did to motivate their children to help around the house or clean up after themselves.
We’re trying to establish some traditions to encourage our new “blended” family—her three (seven, nine, and eleven) and my two (ten and thirteen)—to get along better. Arguing about who does what chores has been a real sore point. Now every Saturday morning we write down all the jobs that have to be done on separate pieces of paper. Then we fold them, put each one in a different color balloon, blow them up, and throw all the balloons into the air. Each child grabs one, breaks it, does the job, comes back, and breaks the next. On it goes until all the jobs are done and we congratulate one another on our great teamwork!
• • •
I’m an at-home dad who recently came up with a new way to deal with all the mess the kids make. I take out my special deck of cards with all the high numbers removed. Then each boy picks a card that tells him how many things he has to put away. There’s lots of excitement as they count what they put away and rush back to see what their next card will be. The last time I did it, the whole cleanup was finished in twenty minutes and the kids were disappointed that the game was over.
• • •
SCENARIO: One room with two girls. Pieces from three puzzles all over the floor.
MOM: “Okay, kids, this is called Can you beat the music? I’m going to play this new album and the idea is to see if you can get all the puzzle pieces back in their original boxes before the first song ends.”
They went for it and finished the job in two and a half songs.
• • •
I’ve got four boys. At least fifty times a day I’m yelling at them to put their shoes away. The first thing they do when they come home is take off their shoes and drop them in the middle of the floor, and I’m always tripping over eight shoes.
INSPIRATION: I write shoes on a piece of paper, put a string through it, and hang it over the entrance to the kitchen, low enough so they’ll run into it when they come home.
Kevin, my eight-year-old, is the first to arrive. The note brushes his hair as he enters the kitchen.
|
KEVIN: |
What’s this? |
|
ME: |
Read it. |
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KEVIN: |
Shoes? What’s that supposed to mean? |
|
ME: |
What do you think? |
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KEVIN: |
Are we going to get new shoes today? |
|
ME: |
No. |
|
KEVIN: |
(thinking hard) Do you want us to put our shoes away? |
|
ME: |
You guessed it. |
Kevin puts shoes away! Comes back and explains the note to the next three kids who put away their shoes!!!
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KEVIN: |
You should make a sign like that for washing your hands. |
• • •
My teenagers hate cleaning the bathroom. (“Ma, it’s gross!”) I didn’t argue. I just posted a note on the mirror over the sink. Here’s the poem that did the trick:
Grab the Comet and a rag
Scrub-a-dub—Oh, what a drag!
Edges, ledges, nooks, and crannies
Don’t forget where sit the fannies
Yes, it does, it takes some time
But work well done is so sublime!
Thanks.
Love,
Mom
• • •
The mother who gave us this story titled it “Nothing Lasts Forever”:
I wanted all the trains and tracks cleared out of the den, so I walked into my son’s room and pretended to call him on the phone. Ring. Ring.
He pretended to pick it up and said, “Hello.”
I said, “Is this the Reilly Construction Company?”
He said, “Yes.”
I said, “I have this big job of removing some heavy trains and tracks to another location and I heard your company was the best.”
He came in and picked everything up. I tried it a second time and it worked again. Then one day I rang him up and asked, “Is this Reilly Construction?”
My son answered, “He’s out of business.”