It Only Takes Five Seconds...

I consider parenting to be the most important part of my life right now. Because of that, I often read articles, blogs, and books on parenting and how to do it “right.” I don’t agree with everything I read, but I do get lots to think about. One thing that has struck me as so important and so true is this: 

Our kids are always, especially when they are little, wanting to tell us things. They want to tell us what their drawing is. They want to tell us what they played on the playground. They want to explain to us, in sometimes excruciating detail, an entire episode of their favorite TV show.

Sometimes we are in a hurry. Sometimes we are distracted. Sometimes we just don’t care about what they are saying.

Sometimes we just don’t listen.

Recently I overheard an interaction between a dad and his son. The little guy was jabbering on and on and as he spoke, the parent said “Got it buddy. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it.” The dad didn’t get it. He didn’t want to get it. He honestly didn’t care at all about what the son was saying. I don’t pretend to have been in his shoes, and I can’t know what the circumstances were. Maybe the dad just got some bad news and he was mulling things over in his own mind. Maybe he was rushing off to an important meeting and trying to keep his head in the game. Maybe he had something important to tell his son before he forgot it, and he was trying to hurry the conversation along. 

But I honestly doubt it. 

Knowing my own self and my own kids, I know that it is probably more likely that the parent was just tired of the never-ending little voice going on and on and on. I have been there.

Oh, have I been there. Right now, I have one son who wants to tell me about all of the different levels of his video games. I really don’t get video games.  I really don’t care about video games. I really really don’t want to hear monologues about video games. But I try to listen. I try to understand, so that the monologue can become a conversation.  I know that it is interesting to him. I know that it matters to him, and he is excited about his accomplishments and frustrated by his inabilities.

That’s the heart of it, right there. Even though to me it is “just videogames” to him, it is accomplishment, frustration, joy, entertainment, excitement, challenge, exploration, socialization, strategizing. What would I want to talk to my kids about, if not these things?

Someday he will want to talk about applying for college. Or dating. Or peer pressure. Or any other number of things I don’t even want to imagine yet. And I don’t want him to not bother telling me when those things are on his mind; I don’t want him to think that I will just nod my head and mumble “I got it” when he is telling me something about himself.

Let’s look at another example of a different dad. This dad has a son at our preschool, and the son has delayed speech. This family has worked very hard to help the son learn to speak and express himself verbally. They see a speech therapist, and they engage in conversation as much as they possibly can with the son. To this dad, every word that his son says is a treasure. The father mentioned the other day that “It only takes five seconds” to stop and listen to what his son wants to say. Whether that is just running up to tell a teacher something he thinks is important, like that he found flowers on the playground, or something that we think is important like a need to go to the bathroom, it only takes five seconds.

Stop, next time your child wants to talk to you. Stop and listen. What better use could you make of your time?