How to Talk so Little Kids Will Listen: A Survival Guide to Life with Children Ages 2-7 (The How To Talk Series)

by Joanna Faber

We were coming home and Benjamin wanted to get the mail from the mailbox. He carried it inside and immediately threw it up in the air. Instead of my usual, “Hey, that’s not okay! You need to pick it all up,” I said, “Benny, the mail belongs on the desk.” He gathered it all up and put it on the desk.

When you say ‘chairs!’ you’re giving us the benefit of the doubt. You assume that if you just point out the problem, we’ll be glad to fix it. The other way is disrespectful. You’re implying that we’re lazy, thoughtless people.”

What happens when your four-year-old hears you say, “Apple core”? She has to think. Apple core? What about an apple core? Oh, I left it on the couch. I guess I should put it in the garbage. The child tells herself what to do. She doesn’t feel bossed around. Now she won’t be tempted to throw the apple core at the back of your head.

Just be careful that the one word you use is a noun, not a verb. A verb is more likely to sound like a command. Sit! Come! Quiet! Better for dog training than for child rearing.

Suggestions came flying: “Seat belt.” (Instead of, “Buckle your seat belt, now.”) “Jacket.” (Instead of, “Pick your jacket up off the floor and hang it on the hook.”) “Light.” (Instead of, “How many times have I told you to turn the light off after you leave the bathroo...

If you’ve asked your child not to leave her apple cores on the couch a hundred times already and you just sat down on a slimy, rotten core and are feeling the wetness seep through the seat of your pants, you can stand up and roar, “APPLE COOOORE!” It’s therapeutic for the parent and not likely to cause long-term psychological damage to a youngster. You expressed your feelings strongly without resorting to character attacks, name-calling, or threats.

Appreciate progress before describing what’s left to do. As you may have noticed in the last example, when you describe what you see, it helps to describe the positive instead of focusing on the negative. Describe the progress that you see before pointing out what’s left to be done. Instead of, “I see you haven’t finished the cleanup,” you can say, “I see almost all of the cars and blocks have been put away! There’s only one dump truck and a few road pieces left to go.”

We’re humans, not robots. It’s not a good idea to pretend to be calm until we explode (and most of us will explode eventually).

It can be helpful for a child to know what another person is feeling. Kids need to know when their parents or teachers are frightened, frustrated, or angry. It’s hard for them to figure out what’s going on when our words don’t match our emotions.

But then I realized I didn’t want to do that, so I told him, “I’ll get frustrated if I don’t finish this shirt first. I can help you as soon as I finish ironing the sleeves.” Jamie said, “Okay, Dad,” and then he stuck around to watch me iron. I would never have thought to tell him my feelings before this class. It’s so strange to me that I didn’t learn to say things like “I’m frustrated” until I was thirty-four years old, and my son already knows that at four. He’s way ahead of me!

He cannot be convinced to be afraid, but he’s generally willing to make accommodations for his nervous mother.

She’s just a baby! You hurt her! That’s mean!” He reacts very inappropriately. Sometimes he actually laughs in my face. This week I’ve started telling him my feelings instead. “When I see one child hurting another child I get very upset!” I have to admit it works! He stops and he doesn’t laugh or run away. Last night at bedtime he told me his feelings. He was jumping on the bed saying, “I’m . . . angry . . . at . . . you!” with one word for each jump.

I remember a workshop member telling me she was frustrated that we always ended the workshop late. She explained that she often had to miss the end of the session because she needed to get home in time to relieve her babysitter. I was chagrined. I thought I was being accommodating by starting late, but it turns out I was making it more difficult for this mom who had to leave on time. I apologized to her and resolved to announce to the group that we would honor our start time.

But what if this mom had approached me by saying that she was furious with me for starting late? I’m sure my reaction would have been different. I would have felt attacked and perhaps wondered if she might be a bit unbalanced. I might have even tried to avoid her in the future. Save your outrage for those times when it is unavoidable. Your kid smacked you in the nose, covered the cat in molasses, flushed your wedding ring down the toilet. Fury is not a useful everyday seasoning for a relationship!

The final tool of this chapter is to take action without insult. If your child refuses to wear his bike helmet in spite of your brilliant use of playfulness, choice, and information-giving, you can say, “I’m putting the bike away for now. You’re in no mood to have your head squeezed by a helmet, and I can’t let you ride without one.”

If your child wants to help put pancake batter in the pan, but despite friendly reminders you can’t convince him not to jump around at the stove, you can say, “I can’t cook with you now. I’m too worried about burns.”

If your child refuses to get in his carseat, “I can see the seat belt is uncomfortable. You feel freer without it. I can’t take you to your friend’s house without the belt buckled.” Or, “I don’t want to be late for work. I’m buckling you in. I know how much you hate it!”

If your student is flicking the paintbrush full of wet paint at his seatmates, “I can see you’re in no mood for keeping paint on the paper right now. I can’t let you splatter the other kids. Let’s move you to the Play-Doh tab...

Notice that in all these examples the child isn’t being scolded or accused. The adult is describing her own feelings and actions. She’s standing her ground...

The older they get, the more they can be in charge of themselves, especially if they’ve had the practice of making choices and being in charge of their own behavior when they’re younger.”

The payoff for taking that extra step to engage our kids’ cooperation without orders, bribes, and threats is enormous. Study after study has found that young children who are not constantly ordered around are much more likely to cooperate with simple requests from a parent—for

and more likely to follow rules when no adults are present to control them. Self-control can only be developed by practice, not by force!1

Let’s start with natural consequences. We can’t give a child a natural consequence. The only truly natural consequences are the ones found in nature. They happen without us having to do anything. If you pull a dog’s ear, you may get bitten. If you stick your hand in a fire, you get burned. If you step off the edge of a cliff, gravity will cause you to plummet to the ground below.

As for logical consequences, the “logic” is highly debatable. If you continually arrive late for my workshop, despite my warning that lateness is unacceptable, I may find it “logical” to lock you out of my classroom. Or perhaps it would be more “logical” to keep you locked in after class for the same number of minutes you were late. Or maybe my “logic” demands that you miss out on the snacks. As you may be starting to suspect, these are not true exercises in logic. They’re really more of a free association, where we try to think of a way to make the wrongdoer suffer. We hope that the suffering will motivate the offender to do better in the future.

Toni looked like she was trying to suppress a smirk. “I remember getting grounded for lying about a sleepover. I learned to lie better the next time. I was pretty sneaky. When I got older I used to climb out the window.”

“I don’t actually remember getting punished as a child,” said Sarah. “I guess I was that good little girl who always wanted to please. But I can tell you that the kids in my preschool who get put in the time-out corner and lose privileges are the same ones week after week. I have to admit, it doesn’t seem to change their attitude.”

Anna looked distressed. “I hate to say it, but punishment did work for me. My father didn’t spank softly. He hit hard, with a belt. Sometimes my mother made me kneel on rice with bare knees. It was painful and humiliating. It stopped me from doing anything that I thought might get me in trouble. But I was a miserable, terrified little kid. I don’t want my own kids to feel that way.”

Studies find that kids who are punished are more likely to misbehave in the future. Punishment actually increases the undesired behavior.1

It is kind of stunning how much our kids really do want to emulate us. And how much they focus on our overall strategy. It’s a tired old phrase but true: children will do as you do, not as you say.

A punishment makes him feel bad about himself. Making amends helps him feel good about himself, and helps him to see himself as a person who can do good.

I take action in order to protect, not to punish. I take action to protect my child from harm, to protect others from being harmed physically or emotionally, to protect property, and to protect my own feelings.

Notice that we are giving a very clear message to the child that we are not acting to punish, but to protect. We don’t say, “You behaved badly at the park yesterday, so you don’t get to go today.” We don’t say, “You were too rough with the stroller, so you’ve lost the privilege of pushing it.” We focus on safety and peace of mind for the present, and solutions for the future.

Later, when things calm down, I’m going to try problem-solving, and the next time will be better!

One of the keys to successful problem solving is to wait for a time when the mood is right. It can’t be done in the midst of frustration and anger. After the storm has passed, invite your child to sit down with you.

The first step of problem-solving is to acknowledge your child’s feelings.

The second step is to describe the problem.

The third step is to ask for ideas.

Be sure to write down all ideas, no matter how outrageous.

The fourth step is to decide which ideas you both like and cross out the ones that neither of you like.

The last step is to try out your solutions.

With problem-solving, you can always go back and brainstorm some more. When you put your heads together, you’re bound to come up with something that will work for both of you.

If nothing is working, you may have to reconsider your basic expectations.

When children are not ready to behave in a way that is safe for themselves and others, we default to managing the environment. We don’t expect babies to keep their fingers out of electrical sockets. We cover them. We don’t build playgrounds next to highways and expect toddlers not to run into traffic after a rolling ball. We fence in the playground.

But let’s assume that you are asking for behavior that is age appropriate and within your child’s skill set. Here are some real life examples of parents using alternatives to punishment. Although you may wonder if skipping the punishment lets a child off the hook and deprives him of learning to take responsibility for his actions, you’ll notice that in all these examples, the opposite is true.

This time I yelled as loud as I could, “I see a boy on a fence and I’m afraid he’ll get hurt!” Benjamin jumped down and ran over to me. I hugged him and said, “That made me very, very scared!” He said, “Sorry, Mommy!”

Problem-solving doesn’t always have to be a laborious, time-consuming, multistep activity. Sometimes it’s a simple shift in perspective. Instead of thinking, “How can I control this child?” we can think of our child as being on the same team and invite his help and participation.

Darn it. Asher had other ideas for this precious nap period. If I wanted to be clean I was going to have to be skillful. Rashi was a light sleeper. “Oh, you want to play with the Magic Mitts now.” “Throw it!” “I want to take a shower now. What should we do?” Asher thought for a moment. “I can get the tape player and listen to Sesame Street in the bathroom.” “I like that idea. Let’s do it!” I got my shower that morning. A clean victory!

Me: You guys love chasing each other around the house. It’s fun. The problem is I get upset because a lot of times someone ends up crying. I think we need some ideas for how you can have fun without anybody getting hurt or even scared. Mia: When I say stop, Jake and Sophia don’t stop. Sophia: That’s because you’re laughing when you say stop! You just want to win all the time. Jake: Yeah, you act like a baby. Mia: I’m not a baby, stupid-head! Me: Hey, no name-calling. We’re trying to think of ideas here! Maybe “stop” isn’t a good word because sometimes people say “stop” when they’re just playing and sometimes they say “stop” when they’re scared or hurt. It can be confusing. Maybe we need a better word that means “really stop, I’m not kidding around.” Mia: (She climbed up on a chair and put her finger in the air to make her pronouncement.) I know! We can say “PAUSE THE GAME!”

Sophia and Jake agreed. “Stop” will mean go. “Pause the game” will mean stop. They went back to running around. Whenever Mia started to feel a little bit overwhelmed, she wielded her new power. “Pause the game!” Every time she said it, all the children froze. They didn’t seem to mind the new twist to the activity. Then she’d yell, “Play!” and they’d go back to running.

Show respect for the conflict. Don’t minimize the problem.