“How was school today?” is a really dull question inviting a monosyllabic response. I always told my kids, “Tell me something good that happened today.” And then, something bad. Led to some revealing conversations.
When my kids were young (less than 10), I’d take them out in the desert and show them how to make a fire and then, put it out. “Okay, now YOU do it” They both got singed a bit on both steps, including hovering their hands over the fire that was now ‘out’.
It took the mystery of fire away and showed them how to put one out, and to make sure it was out. Result: No playing with matches.
This post is my favorite so far.
My father is brilliant.
I’m told that when I was between four and five, and was started in Sunday School, I was acting up and being a regular PITA.
So he told me(with the superintendent in hearing) that no, I didn’t have to go to Sunday School. In fact, he wasn’t going to let me go to Sunday School. Remember the Christmas program last year? I was never going to get to be in that! Or do the fun things they did.
Apparently I immediantely wanted to go back to class.
And I do remember, at the age of eight, when my dad was teaching me to count change, in preparation for recieving an allowance. I was whining it was too hard, and wanted him to do it for me. He told me I wouldn’t get the money if I couldn’t count it, and suddenly I knew how to count change.
I heard that one for the first time in the Patrick Swayze movie Roadhouse. Swayze’s character is giving the bouncers at a rowdy roadside bar a stirring speech on how to handle troublemakers.
Bouncer: “So we’re not supposed to take anything personal? How about someone calls you a cocksucker?”
Swayze: “No. It’s just two words strung together to get a specific response.”
Other bouncer: “And what if he calls my mamma a whore?”
Swayze: “Well, is she?”.
I thought that was brilliant when I first saw that movie, and I remembered it ever since.
It’s time for the “you have to cook any cookable parts and leave the kitchen spotless afterward” rule.
“But what if they call the Enterprise a garbage scow?”
“Then you hit them. That’s a matter of pride.”
I don’t really get this “well, are you?” thing…surely the problem isn’t the actual thing they were called, but that they have a sibling who wants to hurt them on purpose. Are they just supposed to go back to playing with that person? What will that person do if/when the name-calling stops working? It must be terrifying for a child to receive no support in that situation, and have to live in enemy territory all alone.
I admit, my confusion probably stems from being only child, but I was quite severely bullied when I was young. The fact that my home was safe is the reason I’m alive to today. The though of having bullies living in my house being loved by my parents is enough to make me wake up screaming.
If you’ve got *siblings *name calling, you’ve got two, not one problems. “Well, are you?” is a perfectly cromulent way to deal with the hurt feelings of the name-called. THEN you go to the other and address the folly of name calling.
If it’s the neighbor kid doing the name calling, really all you can certainly effectively do is the first part; it’s nice when you can address the second, but it’s not always possible. And “Well, are you?” at least sets up the intestinal fortitude and clear self-image and sense of perspective your child will need to deal with bullies throughout life that you can’t fix.
Sure, but the people bragging about “Well, are you?” are all slapping each other on the back and acting as if the problem vanished as soon as they convinced the little annoying snot that he isn’t whatever it was. They’re acting as if the problem exists only in the child’s head, and as soon as they sent them back to play, the problem is gone, they don’t need to do anything else. I mean, none of them even gave the child an acknowledgement that what the sibling did was wrong, dammit. It just sounds so horrible.
At least with neighbor kids you have the option of not spending every moment at home at their mercy, you know?
When my daughters were around 7 and 4 they developed an inability to pick up after themselves. I would ask and ask, give timeouts, withhold treats, nothing seemed to work. The worst was legos; they were really into them at this time and would spread them all over the floor. I don’t have a problem with this as long as they clean them up when play time is over. Anyway, one day I told them to clean up the legos as bed time was in 10 minutes. As is usual, they picked a few up but mostly ignored me. I gave them a few minutes and told them they had 5 minutes left and anything left on the floor would get thrown away. I then went and put a new bag in the vacuum cleaner. At the end of the 5 minutes, I came in and found nothing had been picked up. I calmly plugged in the vacuum cleaner, informed them that time was up and they should go brush their teeth, and then I started vacuuming. Sucked them up by the hundred. They screamed and said daddy no, stop daddy. I stopped and, calmly asked what the problem was. I had told them that everything left on the floor would be thrown away. They, crying, begged me to let them have another chance and i told them go ahead, you have one minute. After they went to bed, I emptied the vacuum cleaner bag of the legos I had vacuumed. They have never failed to pick up their stuff since, and I never even raised my voice.
And another thing: what the heck is the child supposed to do when the answer is “yes”? That’s a damn hard skin you’re demanding of your little ones.
I think you’re seeing this through the lens of your experience and that’s making it difficult for the scenario to assume the right size in your imagination. If my son calls my daughter “an idiot”, for example, he’s not bullying her. He’s calling her a name. Yes, I tell him that what he did was wrong, but there’s no crime in my continuing to house and love him. Siblings call each othet names a lot, and only sometimes does it escalate into bullying, which I see as the planned, systematic attempt to tear someone down.
While I can’t say that I’ve employed the “well, are you?” approach, I can see that it has more value than rending my shirt and wailing, “He called you what?! Oh my God! This is awful!” Sometimes brushing something off helps us teach out kids not to let name-calling ruin them.
Yeah, I’m aware I have the wrong end of the stick here. I’ll also admit that I’m afraid of having several children, because so many sibling interactions seem so fucked up to me. I mean, siblings are allowed to hit each other, and the world just shrugs, you know?
I’d probably wind up shaking the instigator and screaming “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” into their face, which even I can see is not good parenting.
My skater kid was constantly spraining or breaking something. I came home one day to him sitting on the porch, cradling his hand, crying.
“I… broke my …wrist…”
“Was it worth it?”
Instant huge smile. “Heck, YEAH! See, we made this ramp and we could jump off the garage roof…”
“So, I shouldn’t feel bad for you?”
“Heck, NO. I got a better idea, when this is all healed.”
And if you did that, the kid would answer “I dunno.” Kids have very poor impulse control. I used to watch my nephews’ faces as they conceived of an idea that they knew would get them into trouble, yet went through with it anyway. And then they’d admit that they knew it was wrong, but “I dunno” why they went ahead and did it.
The first couple times Number One Nephew whacked Number Two were high drama. Soon thereafter, Number Two whalloped Number One. Overreacting to these things just encourages them to do it more, just because they know it’ll get attention. Nowadays, the rough and tumble barely merits notice unless there’s blood or shrieking involved.
And this weekend, my niece bellowing “Emergency! Emergency!” because her rambunctious brother was annoying her didn’t even merit an adult coming in to check. Girl can shriek. We did shout out a “HEY!”, though, which led to momentary peace.
It’s all part of kids learning how to interact with other people. The occasional whallop from a sibling isn’t anything near to bullying – it’s forceful communication, to be sure. And parents need to make sure kids understand where the line must be drawn for that sort of stuff. But bullying has a whole lot of other ugly components beyond that, which don’t (usually) show up in sibling infighting.
… Reminds me of a story of a friend’s awesome parenting moment. Her son was trying to annoy his sister by sticking his finger reeeealy close to her but not touching her. After about ten minutes of this, his sister whacked him in annoyance.
Son came crying into the next room with the adults, looking for sympathy. “She hit me! But I didn’t touch her!” he wailed.
“Then it wasn’t worth it, was it?” was mom’s calm reply. Sniveling dried up, and sister was no longer bothered. Drama averted.
Kids are allowed to hit each other when they are. We sure were not, nor was hitting anybody else allowed, nor were our cousins or our neighbors or our classmates or… allowed to hit.
OTOH, Grandma Number One and Uncle Number One (aka “the other side”) taught The Kidlette to hit her brother; they would specifically, purposefully, and at any time they knew my brother and sister in law could not appear suddenly sic her on him. That made teaching The Kidlette not to hit a lot more difficult than it had been with The Kidlet, but we eventually were able to get her taught. Those two aren’t the brightest bulbs onna tree: pulling their little game in front of me was a big mistake, as I tattled as soon as I could get my sister in law aside - and she knows her mother and brother well enough to believe me straightaway. Dire Threats along the lines of “if I can’t trust you with my kids I will not let you see them” were issued.
Re. hitting, a key line was/is ¡mataros pero no os peguéis!: “kill each other but don’t hit each other!” The contradiction is so glaring that it stops pretty much anything if issued early enough (it doesn’t work if the kids are blind with rage). Worked with us, works with the Kidlets; there have been times we used it in a public venue and some other adult, amazed by the result, came over to make sure he’d gotten it exactly right.
You miss the point. The lesson being taught is that the “problem” exists in the head of the name caller and can only become a problem for the “victim” if they allow it to be.
If you want to build self esteem in kids, don’t give them a participation trophy every time they don’t win something. Instead, teach them that their self worth should not be dependent on what others say or do.
Again: what if the the answer is “yes”? What if the name isn’t “idiot”, but “fat”? Or “ugly”? And the kid believes themselves to be fat and ugly?
Or, god forbid, “gay”, and the kid isn’t ready to come out to you?
Or the kid really is insecure about being stupid?
Doesn’t that jus validate the bully? That if whatever they say is true, well, you’re screwed? They can just treat you however they want, and daddy won’t give a crap? Cause you’re to fat, ugly and stupid to love?