To Curb Frustration, Use “and” Instead of “but”
If you’ve ever tried to reason with a three-year-old (or a four-year-old, eight-year-old, etc.), you know this is often an exercise in frustration.
Your toddler doesn’t understand (and doesn’t care) that you need to leave the playground right now because the parking meter is almost out and you will get a ticket if you don’t. Your preschooler doesn’t care if she has to get out of the pool abruptly because for the next 10 minutes, because this is “adult swim time” and she is not “adult.”
We know they cannot eat cheddar popcorn as a snack if we run out of cheddar popcorn in our house; we are not trying to ruin their mood / day / life, there is simply no cheddar popcorn left. See? Watch! It’s all over! No cheddar popcorn to be found!
So what should we do? We often try to confirm their feelings (we hear you!), And also explain the inner illogicality of these feelings.
“ I know you want to rock out on the playground longer, but Mom needs to move the car .”
“ I know you love swimming so much, but you will be able to swim in the pool again very soon! “
“ YOU WANT CHEDDER POPCORN BUT WE. NOT. HAVE. ANY. “
Sure, this seems reasonable, but ineffective. They are still upset, you are still upset, and everyone loses. But former cognitive psychologist Mary Widdix, who wrote for The Washington Post , suggests a simple adjustment: Instead of using the word “but” in your responses, use “and.” Using “and” makes the child’s feelings true, even if the basis for those feelings is illogical, unreasonable, or factually incorrect. Both positions are equally valid.
This is how it sounds in practice:
” I know you want to rock a little longer in the playground, and Mom needs to move the car .”
“ I know you love swimming so much, And you will be able to swim in the pool again very soon! “
“ YOU WANT CHEDDAR POPCORN, AAANNNDDDD WE ARE. NOT. HAVE. ANY. “
Is this a panacea for hysteria? No, it’s not like that. And that’s the beginning, Widdix writes in The Post :
Of course, simply replacing one word in your vocabulary will not eliminate tantrums or rid the world of parental guilt. It couldn’t be easier. Still, it’s wonderful how this affects compassion and understanding. I can believe that the smell of pasta makes my middle child vomit, And that he might just move to another room. Thus, he feels fully grounded in his experience of the unbearably unpleasant smell of boiling water and remains responsible for dealing with his sensitivities. He is not wrong, and I am not obligated to solve the problem for him.
This confirms both their feelings and the reality of the situation. I bet it works for adults too.