I value my kids' opinions. They have their own personalities and passions, and I find their different perspectives fascinating, especially when they differ from my own. I like what clinical psychologist Shefali Tsabary says, "when you parent, it's crucial you realize you aren't raising a 'mini me,' but a spirit throbbing with its own signature."
I'm not raising robots who simply do what I tell them to do. I want them to think for themselves and share their thoughts about the world with me. This is the template for how they will communicate with others long after they leave my house, and I want them to be able to stand their ground.
While negotiating well is a wonderful technique that we praise in adults, we vilify it in our children. Presenting a cogent argument for something is "talking back" in some homes, so kids never get to really build the muscle to think critically and express it in a safe way.
My husband and I allow this type of back-and-forth conversation in our house. But, admittedly, my patience for my kids' well-thought out arguments runs out when it comes to certain topics, such as screen-time. I have crafty kids who regularly present very logical cases for more screen-time.
They're making good grades. They've only had 30 minutes today. They need to check homework. They want to play an educational game.
All of these arguments may, in fact, be true. Kids are masters at making a solid case for more screen time. But there's a point when all that back and forth is exhausting. Even the most empathic parent reaches a tipping point. I've certainly reached mine, which resulted in an airborne iPad out the back door.
This video is literally taken from a page in my own parenting playbook.
When the negotiating starts in our house, I'm using a crafty technique myself. One I learned from my kids' preschool days. It's short, effective, and as necessary at age 13 as it was at age 3.
When I was getting my degree in Counseling Psychology (and my kids were very little), I was introduced to the work of John Gottman, a pioneer in marriage and family counseling. Some of his most compelling research examines how marriages affect kids and kids affect marriages.
The valuable insight I gleaned from Gottman's work is the power of Emotion Coaching, which is a method parents can use to help children develop emotional intelligence while solving problems.
For example, when my son was 3-years-old, he had a full blown meltdown at playgroup. When I used the techniques of Emotion Coaching, he settled down. He could listen because he felt listened to. I could redirect him. And it took under five minutes. IT WORKED!
And it was then that I learned the power of one little word to help me do that. That word?
Nonetheless.
Here's how it played out: "I can tell you're really frustrated that you can't play with that car right now, nonetheless, I'm not going to let you hurt yourself or someone else because you're mad right now."
Now, 10 years later, I'm still using that word. And no time has that word been more critical or effective than in negotiating screen time.
"I get it. You feel like you deserve more time online. It's your playground. You're having fun on those screens and get to do cool things. Nonetheless, you've hit your limit. Your eyes and brain need a break. It's time to engage with something or someone else."
Parenting is a blend of empathy and setting limits.
"I understand that you want to play Minecraft for 16 hours, but that's not gonna happen. I know you want honey buns for dinner, but yeah, no. There's a limit to my goodness."
As my kids have gotten older and our conversations have deepened, more than ever I want to listen to them and empathize with what they're thinking and feeling. That's what good parents try to do.
Nonetheless.
I will continue to set limits-- with screens and everything else -- that reflect our values. Limits that call my kids back to their humanity, back to balance, back to their childhood, even when they don't agree.
Because that's what good parents try to do.
Disclaimer: My company, Torch, owns the video in this post. It was inspired by my family.