When you’re pregnant with your first child, everyone tells
you how wonderful it will be when he or she arrives into the world. “You’ll
enjoy every minute of time with this child, with whom you’ll want to spend more
and more and more time.”
On the one hand, this is totally true. That precious little
bundle of joy (and poop and spit-up) tugs at your heart in a way unlike
anything you’ve experienced previously. This is the love that drives you out of
bed when the infant cries, gives you grace to clean up yet another mess, and
ensures that the child survives into adulthood—despite driving you sometimes
crazy in the process.
But, on the other hand, that statement is totally not true. We
joke about longing to be stranded on a desert island with a good book, a glass
of wine, and nary a kid in sight. What we don’t even joke about is the fact
that sometimes children can be downright boring and demanding. We can’t say
that because it sounds so horrible, that these little people we’re raising—and
that we love to pieces—are not great conversationalists most of the time. Sure,
sometimes, they say something quite cute and interesting. But do I really want
to hear all about how to play the Treasure Island game
my second grader learned in PE that morning? Do I need to be fully engaged in a
conversation about dinosaurs for the hundredth time? Do we need to be told
every thought that crosses our children’s minds—and pretend that those insights
are all so darn interesting?
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Let me state emphatically that I do talk with my children,
that I’m frequently amazed by their insights, suggestions, thoughts, and
silliness. We enjoy hearing about their day at the dinner table—but we also
have no problem telling them they are talking too much, that we don’t want to
hear for the umpteenth time about their LEGO creation, and that we truly would
rather talk about something other than baseball stats.
What I think we’ve lost as parents is the balance of things, the realization that
our children aren't very interesting most of the time—and that’s okay, because
they are only children. We’ve forgotten that childhood is messy, gross, and
boring to grownups in a healthy way. We’ve become obsessed with our children to
the point that we give them status and place beyond their years by paying close
attention to all that they say and do, by always admiring their words and
works, and by making them believe that everything they do is noteworthy of our
complete and full attention.
During a recent conversation among mothers with children of
various ages, one said, “Sometimes I crank up the radio just to not engage in
conversation with my daughter about the movie Frozen. She talks about it nonstop, and it’s driving me crazy.” We
all laughed, then I said, “I’d just tell her to stop talking about it, that I
wasn’t going to be listening to her chatter on that subject for now.” Her
reply? “I never thought about just telling her to stop talking. I thought I
should always listen to everything she said.”
Her statement is typical of today’s parent—that we think we
have to pay close attention and respond to our children’s chatter all of the
time. We’ve forgotten what our grandmothers knew instinctively: That children
talk too much and that they need to be taught to be good conversationalists.
What we’re doing collectively as parents is teaching our children the exact
opposite: how to be a bore.
If you want your child to learn how to be someone with whom
others will enjoy conversing, try these tips:
Cut them off.
When a child goes on and on about something he’s passionate about, you want to
encourage that passion, but you also want him to realize that not everyone’s
going to be as excited as he is about dinosaurs, for example. Help him realize
when he’s talking too much about that topic by simply telling him it’s time to
stop talking about it.
Show them how
conversation works. Talking with someone is different than talking at
someone. When a child dominates a conversation, they are not engaged in true
conversation—they are talking at the other person, instead of with them. Gently
redirect their talk to include other family members or friends. Help them
one-on-one if necessary to say three things, then stop and ask a question of
the other person.
Practice listening
skills. Sometimes, a child will act bored around another sibling or friend
who is talking about a topic that doesn’t interest her—but will expect complete
enrapture when she has the floor to talk about her pet issue. Guide her in how
to be a good listener, too. People want to talk more with others who truly
listen than they do with someone who only wants to promote her agenda without
regard to others.
So the next time you become bored with your children’s conversation,
tell them gently, redirect the flow, and help them to become better at talking
with, instead of talking at, others.
Until next time,
Sarah
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