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

All feelings can be accepted. Some actions must be limited!

“But” takes away the gift you’ve just given. It’s like saying, “I hear how you feel and now I am going to explain to you why that feeling is wrong.”

If you feel a but bubbling up, you can replace it with this handy sentence starter: The problem is . . .

Even though you know . . . “Even though you know it’s too late to go shopping for cookies, you’d sure like to have some right now!” “Even though you know it’s time to pick up your brother at the bus stop, it can be exasperating to have to leave the playground when you’re having fun.” (As a bonus, you’ve taught him a new vocabulary word!)

You may have noticed that we don’t respond to a child’s distress by asking questions: Are you sad? Did that make you angry? Why are you crying? Even gentle questions can feel like an interrogation when a child is in distress. He may not know why he is upset. He may not be able to express it clearly in words. Often when questioned like this, even adults can feel threatened.

Clearly he was very upset. In the past I would ask him, “What’s wrong?” or “What happened?” And I always got the standard responses, “I don’t know,” or “Nothing.” This time, instead of questioning him, I tried making a statement to show I understood how he felt. I said, “Jake, you look mad and sad at the same time.” Well, that opened a floodgate.

This brings us to a small and unimpressive-looking tool of great power. The tool of (almost) silent attention. You can continue to listen to your child, responding with an empathic, “Ugh!,” “Mmm,” “Ooh,” or “Huh.” Often that’s all you need. By lending an attentive ear and firmly squeezing our lips together, or letting out a sympathetic grunt, we can help our children find their own way through their feelings. The gift we can give them is to not get in the way of their process by jumping in with our reactions: advice, questions, corrections. The important thing is to give them our full attention and trust them to work it out.

It’s human nature. We’re stuck with it, and our children are no different. We resist being told what to do. Direct orders provoke direct opposition. When we give children commands, we’re working against ourselves. Where we had hoped to inspire obedience, we’ve just stirred up rebellion in their little hearts.

Don’t turn a choice into a threat. When giving a choice, it’s important that both options are pleasant! Satisfying as it may be to say, “You can come with me now, or I can leave you here for the wild dogs to chew on. You decide, honey!”

Instead of, “Stop banging on that keyboard. You’re going to break it!” (To which the inevitable reply is an offended, “No, I’m not!”) Give information: “Keyboards are delicate. All they need is a very light touch.”

“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 bathroom?”)

Instead of, “Don’t walk away and leave your jacket on the floor. I’m not going to pick it up for you.” Describe: “I see a jacket on the floor.”

Appreciate progress before describing what’s left to do.

When expressing annoyance, irritation, or anger, it’s important to banish the word you.

Punishment can distract a child from the important lesson she needs to learn. Instead of feeling an urge to fix the problem or make amends, punishment prompts a child to think selfishly. What television shows will she be forced to miss? What dessert will she have to give up? She’s likely to be filled with resentment instead of remorse.

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

Instead of saying, “Oh please, again with the remote? You’re being silly. It’s not worth fighting over.” You can say, “This is a difficult problem. Two children want to watch two different shows.”

An eye-opening study found that when people are offered large monetary rewards to complete a challenge, their creativity and engagement in the task plummets.

The larger message is: When there is conflict between us, we don’t need to put our energy into fighting each other. We can combine forces to search for a solution that respects the needs of all parties.

Instead of, “That’s a beautiful picture!” Try, “I see green lines that are zooming up and down the page. And look how they connect all these red shapes!”

When a child has done well and been told that she’s gifted and talented, why would she risk her status by trying something more difficult?

On the other hand, inauthentic praise (“Don’t worry, you’re doing fine!”) can be infuriating (“No, I am NOT doing fine!”).

Parents and teachers in my workshop were surprised to discover that putting children’s feelings and desires into words is helpful, even when we can’t give them what they want. When kids feel understood they also feel more calm, connected, and able to tolerate frustration.

“Dan wants to build something with his blocks without the loose pieces being moved around, and Sam wants to touch the blocks, too. This is a tough problem. What can we do?”

Instead of accusing and interrogating, state the obvious. In the case of the purloined dessert, you can simply say, “I see you ate the cake.” If she protests, don’t call her a liar. Instead, you can accept the feeling behind the protest. “It’s not easy to resist eating chocolate cake when it’s sitting right in front of you. I bet you wish you hadn’t eaten it!”

Say it with a word. When I’m driven into a frenzy by dawdling kids (and my gentler tools of playfulness and offering choices to get them into the car have failed) I yell, “CAR!!!” with all my frustration packed into that word. Chances are the word car, even delivered at top volume, will not cause lasting damage to the psyche.