Have a New Kid by Friday

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Have a New Kid by Friday Page 12

by Kevin Leman


  (Grunt.)

  “What did you do today?”

  “Nothin’. ”

  “Where have you been?”

  (Shrug.)

  “What did you do with your buddies tonight?”

  “Nothin’. ”

  Every parent has received the silent treatment. The “fine.” The grunt. The “nothin’. ” The shrug. There’s nothing more exasperating than trying to communicate and having the other end of the two-way conversation not cooperating.

  How are you trying to communicate? By asking questions. It works in most conversations, right?

  Wrong. Most questions we ask our kids really are nonproductive questions we ask our kids really are nonproductive (“So, how was your day at school?”),

  and kids are smart enough to know it. When an adult asks questions, children know what answers the adult expects. And that makes them more determined not to answer.

  “But, Dr. Leman, how will I ever know anything about what’s going on with my child if I don’t ask questions?”

  Put yourself in your child’s shoes for a minute. If, as soon as you opened your mouth, your parent turned into Judge Judy and gave you an edict, put your ideas down, and put you down, would you want to open your mouth?

  Why not switch the paradigm? If you want your children to talk to you about anything, don’t ask questions. Instead, get quietly involved in their world. Talk about what they’re interested in—even if it’s not what you’re interested in.

  For example, if your child likes a certain rock group you’re not crazy about, say, “I was thinking about that group the other day. I wonder if those guys in that band get along, if that guy with the far-out hairdo is as weird as he looks, and who the leader of the group is.”

  If you meet your children on their interest level, they’ll be a lot more willing to talk. They’ll feel less alienated from you if you show interest in entering their world. By meeting them on their interest level, you’re saying, “I love you. I care about you. What interests you is of importance to me too.”

  If your child makes a comment you think is shocking or ridiculous, instead of saying, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard,” which is probably your first inclination, instead say, “That’s interesting. Tell me more about that.”

  By not asking questions, you’ll learn a lot more about your child and your child’s world.

  Complaining

  “He always goes into my room and messes it up.”

  “Do we have to take her to the mall with us? She’s so embarrassing.”

  “She took my sweater without asking. And now she can’t find it.”

  “I hate that teacher. She’s so unfair.”

  A long time ago, when I was assistant dean of students at a university, two secretaries complained nonstop to me about each other. Finally, I got tired of it. The next time one secretary complained about the other, I walked her, arm in arm, to that secretary’s desk. It nipped the complaining in the bud and took away all the angles. It forced those two women to handle their skirmishes themselves, instead of involving others.

  Another time I received a call from a student’s parents. They were very upset because their son had phoned them about something he felt wasn’t fair. So I said thank you, then called the student into my office.

  “How’s school going?” I asked.

  “Great.”

  “Your social life?”

  “Your social “Fine.”

  “Your classes?”

  “They’re fine.”

  Kids will always complain—about their brother, sister, other parent, teacher. In fact, children love to whine and complain about someone else.

  What they don’t like to do is to confront the other person. So if your child complains, guide him toward the source of the complaint.

  “Well, that’s interesting, because the reason you’re here in my office is that I got a call from your mom and dad.”

  The student shifted in his seat. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I just wasn’t in a good mood last night. . . .”

  Do you think that student was likely to call his folks anymore to blow off steam, knowing he could end up in my office again?

  Not likely. He was forced to own up to his words.

  Let’s say your son comes in and complains about his older brother. The responsible parent will say, “Listen, did you talk to your brother about that?” Chances are the child will say no. Then take him by the hand, lead him to his brother, and say, “Tell your brother how you feel.”

  When I was in high school, when students got into a skirmish, the administrator would give them boxing gloves, take them to the gym, say, “Let me know when you’re through,” and walk out the door. But I never heard of anyone actually fighting. A couple of times I got collared and was brought to the gym. I never fought with anyone.

  There was no “You started it” or “No, you did.” No one even bothered to point the finger of blame.

  Such an action—putting two skirmishers together—will take the wind out of your child’s sails . . . or, more like it, take the sails out of your child’s wind.

  Kids will blow about one thing or another. It’s a given. But if you guide your child toward the source of his complaint, you’ll often end the complaining quickly, without involving yourself any further.

  Curfew

  “My daughter is 16 and starting to hang out with guys. What curfew should I set?”

  “Ryan ignores every curfew we ever set and comes home whenever he feels like it. I sit home by the window and worry until he gets home. My husband just gets mad and raises the roof once Ryan does get home about how irresponsible he is. Nothing seems to work.”

  Some states and cities have curfews, but, frankly, curfews don’t make a lot of sense. Sande and I have raised 5 children, and we have never pronounced a certain “magic hour” when the children had to be off the streets and home. Instead, we’ve always put the ball back in their court. As soon as a teen is driving, she had better be responsible; otherwise she shouldn’t be driving. (By the way, driver’s education is good for teens, and it also saves Mom and Dad money for insurance.)

  So when a child says, “Dad, what time do you want me to be home?” instead of giving a curfew—“You better be home by 10 p.m. or else”—say, “Be home at a reasonable hour.” This makes your teen think through his decision and be accountable for the time he chooses to come home.

  Give your child the benefit of a doubt until he proves you wrong. If you have a 16- or 17-year-old who comes home at 4 a.m., I’d say that would be the last time he could borrow the car. In such a situation, you would say, “Coming home at 4 a.m. shows me that you don’t have good judgment. I’m not interested in lending my car, which I’m responsible for and is registered in my name and insured with my money, to someone who comes home at 4 a.m. Let’s cool it with the driving for a while and revisit this in 3 months.”

  It may feel good to you as a parent to say these things, and it’s wise for you to take this tactic, but it also costs you. As soon as you uphold this important standard, you’ve impinged on your own life. That 16-year-old can no longer drive himself places. That means Mom or Dad will have to drive him.

  But guess what? Parenting is an inconvenience. There are no two ways around it. You love your children, but sometimes—be honest—they are a pain in the neck (and other places too).

  When you allow a child a 1- to 3-month time-out on driving, you’re sending a strong message about how lucky he was to be driving the family car—and what he’ll need to be doing differently next time. It’s a lesson not easily forgotten.

  Children will misuse their freedom sometimes, but the important thing is to keep the ball in their court so they are growing in responsibility and toward a healthy adulthood.

  So don’t set a curfew. Instead, say, “Be home at a reasonable hour.” Chances are, when you do so, your child will be home even earlier than you expect.

  When our daughter Lauren went to a birthda
y party in eighth grade, I asked her when the party was over.

  “There’s no end time,” she said, “just a start time. When do I need to be home?”

  I threw the ball back into her court. “What do you think is reasonable?”

  “Eleven o’clock,” she said. Interestingly, she phoned right at 11:00 from a girlfriend’s cell phone to say that she was on her way home. Did I tell her she had to? No. She did all that herself.

  When Sande and I used this technique, our three older children—Holly, Krissy, and Kevin—came up with their own rules regarding the family car. Holly, our firstborn, was the one who started the rules. Sande and I had to laugh—her rules were stricter than ours would ever be!

  Children need to know that driving is a privilege—not a right—as a family member. And coming home at a responsible hour without being told is an important part of the road to becoming a responsible adult.

  Defiance/Purposeful Disobedience

  “He looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘NO!’ at the top of his lungs.”

  “I told her she couldn’t go to a movie with her friends. She sneaked out her window and went anyway.”

  “He’s always facing off with me when his father is out of town. He knows better than to do it when his father is home.”

  Defiance is a mountain—a very big mountain—if you don’t conquer it. And the earlier you climb it in your child’s life, the better.

  Let’s say your 3-year-old defiantly stomps his foot and says, “No!” What is he doing? He’s challenging you to the nth degree. He has absolutely dug in, and he’s not going to do what you’ve asked him to do.If spanking is compatible with your family values, this is indeed the time for a good swat on your kid’s tail, combined with a stern look that says you mean business. This look needs to say, “This is what I expect you to do, and I expect you to do it now.” With a younger child, consistency of expectation and follow-through wins the battle. And a period of isolation and think time about his actions is also effective in changing the defiant behavior.

  If your older child (age 10 and up) is purposefully defiant, then you have a much larger problem. You have a son or daughter you cannot trust.

  What’s the answer? What works best with defiance is—all of a sudden, without warning—giving the child vitamin N (No) at every turn.

  Child: “We gotta go. It’s time for basketball practice.”

  Parent: “No, you’re not going. I’m not going to drive you.”

  Child: “Can I have 10 bucks?”

  Parent: “No.”

  Child: “Can I go to Jack’s house?”

  Parent: “No.”

  Here’s what’s interesting and why this method works so well. These are always things you’ve let that child do in the past. Now, suddenly, you are not letting her do anything. Sooner or later (and usually sooner) the child wants to know why not. “What’s the deal? You always let me do that.”

  How should you respond? Bamboozle the kid. “Why not?” you ask. “Why don’t you spend a few minutes in your room thinking about why not? When you come to the conclusion about why you think I said it, I’d be happy to talk to you.”

  Then remove yourself from the proximity of the child so she doesn’t have the opportunity to try to argue and raise your blood pressure.

  Most children, when left to themselves, will come up with the reason and will say, “I’m sorry.”

  But that’s when you have to stick to your guns without shooting yourself in the foot. An apology from the child doesn’t change the fact that she goes nowhere for the day.

  Now, tomorrow? That’s a new day, and it should have a new chance.

  But for the lesson to stick, the child needs to feel the consequences of defiant behavior. Sometimes it means you suffer too (not being able to go to an event you wanted to go to). However, letting a child do her activity that day, after saying I’m sorry, means she hasn’t learned anything (other than to continue manipulating you). And neither have you.

  Disrupting in the Classroom

  “Jake’s the kind of kid who’s always in trouble. He got caught shooting the librarian with a water pistol. Then he let out a mouse from biology into the girls’ restroom, and all the girls ran out screaming. Every year Jake spends hours in the principal’s office, and teachers groan the following year when they find out he’s on their roster.”

  You know this kid. He seems to make it a goal to disrupt the classroom. He’s the one who sets off smoke bombs in the garbage can under the teacher’s desk. He’s the one who gets out of his desk in the middle of class and starts crawling toward the door like a snake. He’s the one with his hand always up, ready to contribute something witty to make the other children laugh. He’s the one who simply can’t sit still. He’s the one that students roll their eyes at, but he always succeeds in being the entertainer.

  He’s also the one who drives every teacher on the planet crazy. I know what kids like Jake need, because I used to beone of those disruptive kids. All that disruption is for one purpose only: to gain attention. So stop and give him attention.

  “Leman, are you crazy?” you’re saying. “If I give him attention, he’ll only do it more. It’ll encourage him.”

  Ah, but listen to the rest of the story. Jake’s behavior didn’t change until I suggested this strategy to the parents and teachers. (For those of you parents who are aghast at this one, remember that this book is titled Have a New Kid by Friday. We have a lot to accomplish in a short time frame, so drastic measures are needed sometimes.) Every time Jake acted disruptive, the teacher was to stop the class and acknowledge the behavior. “Class, I see today that Jake wants to entertain us. Go ahead, Jake, and do what you want to do, and we’ll all watch.” This acknowledgment would take all the fun and surprise out of the behavior. After Jake (now not quite so confident) did his little show, the teacher was then to say, “Class, thank you for watching Jake’s little show. I hope you enjoyed it. And because we had to take time out to watch his show, we now need to finish math.”

  There may be a chorus of groans from the class. “But it’s time for recess!” someone may say.

  “Yes, it is,” the teacher was to say. “And recess will be 10 minutes shorter because of Jake’s display.”

  I assured them that peer pressure—having all the kids upset about a shorter recess—would then take over and finish the job.

  And it did. Beautifully.

  Driving

  “My daughter, who is a really responsible teen, started driving when she was 16. My son is turning 16 in a month, and all of his friends already have their licenses. But I’ll be honest. It scares the pants off me to think of Evan driving a car. He’s so spacey and can’t keep track of anything. His dad is convinced he’ll park somewhere and just ‘lose’ the car, not to mention go through a bunch of gas caps. But he’d be embarrassed if we said no to getting a license, especially since all his friends have one, not to mention his sister did at his age. What should we do?”

  “I told her she couldn’t take the car to the mall, but she did anyway. Did she think I wouldn’t miss it or something? I’m trying to think of an appropriate punishment, but I’m so angry I can hardly think. Help!”

  “We were stunned when our son Rick was escorted home by our hometown cop last night. He and three of his friends had been pulled over because the cop saw them cruising the highway and got suspicious. Rick claimed that even though the other kids had been drinking, he hadn’t. The alcohol-level test proved him right, but still, he was the driver. He’s 17, and his friends are still 16. How could he be so stupid? We are embarrassed beyond belief. If it were up to my husband, Rick wouldn’t drive for the rest of his life.”

  My dad graduated from only the eighth grade, but he was a pretty smart guy. I was a real jerk as a kid, but believe me, I knew Dad’s rules that governed the use of the family car. They were emblazoned in black-and-white.

  1. You can’t ever have more than one other kid in the car with you without my expre
ss permission.

  2. You cannot leave the village and drive in the city without my permission.

  The rules were so clear-cut, they were one of the few things I didn’t test. I knew my dad would be as firm as cement about them.

  Driving is a privilege, not a given. Some teens are ready to drive at 16; others, like Evan, should wait a little longer until their heads are firmly connected to their actions. And a teen who violates a parent’s edict about driving the car isn’t to be trusted. The keys should be taken away from her, and she shouldn’t drive for a set period of time. Her privileges should be suspended for defiance and lack of responsibility.

  Am I being too harsh? Think of it this way: if your child defies you on important things like driving a car, would it be smart to let him keep driving? If he defies you, he’s saying, “You know, Mom (or Dad), you really don’t matter. I don’t care what you say. And I don’t respect you.” Is that the kind of kid you want driving your $32,000 auto with liability insurance of $100,000?

  Certainly not. This is the time for tough love. Give the teen a suspension of privileges and some think time. This is one behavior you need to deal with while the horse is still in the barn.

  Should you take away his driving privileges for life? No, that would be impractical. Think about how complicated your life is, then add to it the time needed to drive your teen where he needs to go (such as an after-school job).

  But driving is clearly an adult responsibility. If your child is not ready for such responsibility, he should not be driving. If any alcohol is involved (as in the case with Rick), there should be a much longer suspension period, since any facet of drinking and driving is indeed a serious one.

  Drugs and Alcohol

  “I couldn’t believe it when the principal called to say that he’d caught Seth and some other boys smoking marijuana after school. My son was smoking pot?”

  “Anita’s always been a good student. Then she entered junior high. Her grades started to drop—not just a little but a lot. Now she’s staying out really late with friends, she’s mouthy, and she doesn’t get up until afternoons on the weekends. Then she still looks blearyeyed. What happened to my good girl?”

 

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