To Help Your Child Do More, Speak Less.
Have you ever seen a parent talk to a toddler about a Rice Crispie treat? They patiently explain the risk of tooth decay, the importance of a balanced diet and dinner time. Right in the middle of the grocery aisle.
Sometimes we should talk less.
Yes, children need to learn about the world. They thrive in the warmth of our sympathy. I have written an entire book on the importance of understanding children’s perspectives for solving disciplinary problems.
But that doesn’t mean you have to start an hour long dissertation defense to explain a simple limit or home rule.
I found out about this when I almost tripped over my daughter’s backpack in our hall, and it seemed to me for the hundredth time. I juggled with my work bag and two empty travel mugs at the end of a long day.
My chest flushed. I’ve told her so many times to hang up her backpack as soon as she walks through the door! We even bought a dedicated backpack cabinet and installed hooks for each kid’s bag. When, oh, when will this simple habit take hold?
I took a deep breath. Shouting won’t help. Of all my children, Ava was the worst at responding to reprimands. It seemed that every time I corrected her, the delay time increased before she got into action.
Instead, I pulled the sticker out of the nearest stack. I wrote: “Dear Ava, I don’t like to lie on the floor. Please hang me. With love, your backpack. ” I left it in my backpack and put my things away.
About an hour later, Ava burst into the kitchen with a note in one hand and a backpack in the other. I was surprised to see a smile on her face.
“Mommy, look what I found! This is so stupid. Backpacks can’t write. “
She thrust the note into my hand and left the room. As I followed her, I saw that she had hung her backpack on the designated hook without complaint.
This breakthrough marked the beginning of a new era in our family. Wherever possible, we will communicate limitations and corrections in writing. This keeps emotions from interacting. Verbal challenge can activate our children’s amygdala, the part of the brain that controls emotions and the fight-or-flight response. Instead, the written word refers to the prefrontal cortex, a part of the brain for reasoning, problem solving, and critical thinking.
We post our daily schedule, housework schedule, and screen limits on our kitchen wall. This has the added benefit of informing grandparents or other caregivers of family rules in case the children try to do it quickly when my husband and I are away.
Of course, words are sometimes needed to redirect a child. In such situations, I try to speak to a minimum. I could point to a cereal platter left on the kitchen table and say “dishes” with a smile. Or touch my watch and say, “It’s time to do your homework.”
If I need to discuss a bad grade or a discipline problem, I can promise my child that I will only speak as much as it takes to get around the block once. This imposes discipline on me so that I can effectively explain my fears and makes it less likely that the child will disconnect from me. (Long lectures rarely attract attention.)
Of course, self-control is needed to suppress the impulse of the lecture. And creativity to come up with a way to discipline with notes or a few carefully chosen words. But you may find that when you talk less, your children fight less in return. Anyone with a kindergarten-raised or an argument-prone teenager can appreciate the benefits of a quiet home.