February 23, 2009
"We have been considering the role of singing in parenting, how about speech? One could get through the day without singing but not without speaking, yet how carefully do we consider what we say? When I was student teaching, one of our supervisors used to count how many times we sad ""um"" or ""you know"" to help us become aware of our habits in speaking. It was the first step toward consciously choosing our words and becoming more effective communicators.
One of the popular habits I've observed is the use of ""ok"" in communicating with children. I would suggest, just like the examples above, it is unconscious, but let's consider the effect it has on our communication with our children.
Below is an article from MOTHERING Magazine about a mother's awakening to the impact of ok in relating to her children. It's both honest and to the point.
Parenting by Permission
by Sandra Eble
As I settled in for a picnic lunch with my children in the middle of what promised to be a long, hot summer day, I noticed another family claiming the shade of the tree next to ours. Three boys, about ten, six, and three, clamored for bagels. My interest was piqued when the boys begged for a yogurt. In a voice that commanded attention, the mother stated. ""There is only one yogurt and two spoons. There are three of you. This is to be shared fairly. Any pigs will lose their turns."" She then laid down and closed her eyes, while I waited for World War III to commence.
To my disbelief, the two oldest took the spoons and passed the yogurt: one bite for each of them and two bites for the youngest. No one screamed that the baby was getting a double helping. They enjoyed that yogurt to the hilt, scraping out the cup with gusto. Meanwhile, my children were still bickering about the choices I had offered. What secret did the mother possess to instill that kind of cooperation? Could I go over and beg for an hour-long parenting class?
On the drive home, I reviewed how I might have handled the same situation. The biggest diffence I could find was in the mother's approach. She laid out a plan and the consequuences and then stepped out of the picture. Her plan had not been detailed but rather descriptive of the facts and her expectations.
What would I have done? First, I would have apologized for only having one yogurt, then I would have begged for approval. ""Is that OK?"" I would have asked. This mother had not even explained why there was only one yogurt. I would have repeatedly looked for assurance that I was still a wonderful mother, even if inept at providing for them. Then I would have apologized for only having two spoons, again repeating, ""Is that OK?"" Was this how my communication was breaking down?
Over the next few days, I studied my efforts. Time to clean up. OK? When I asked if it was OK, dissent followed.
I turned my attention to dropping the OK after suggestions or commands, deciding that parenting is not often a democracy. When it's time to go to Shop-Rite, it is my timetable and not a group decision-making process. If a timetable can be altered to fit others' needs, then that can come up in the form of a discussion. ""Cleanup needs to happen before dinner. Do you want to do it now or in 15 minutes?"" If my statement is ""Time to clean up, OK?"" then to be sure it is not OK.
I had been operating under the illusion that if I was understanding and explained my reasoning then my children would smile and cooperate. In truth, explanations rarely worked. Now I was facing the fact that my parenting style was not very effective.
All this reflection dredged up a long-forgotten memory. When my oldest, M'Liss, had been an angel infant and I was still encased in the myth that breastfeeding was the answer to all mothering problems, a neighbor who was trapped in open warfare with his 12-year-old daughter laid out the maxim that ""children are not reasonable."" I was sure then that proper parenting, understanding, and patience would create ""reasonable"" children. Now after 17 years in the trenches with six children I believe that he was right. There are moments when no amount of explanation or patience will sway a revved-up three-year-old.
My life took on a new dimnesion when I removed ""OK"" from my vocabulary. I can now sail through Shop-Rite with my four-year-old. I have left behind the days of ""Let's pick up Cheerios, OK?"" and the whine that follows. Such a little word, yet the power it wields in a parent/child relationship can be tremendous."