Validation in Action
At one time, I was kind of obsessed with parenting books. Feeling so inadequate and possessing a nature that feels very much the opposite of the kind of parent I really want to be, I pretty much read everything I could get my hands on. (Though quickly discarding anything that served to emphasis my natural tendencies–anything too controlling, anything that advocated the least unkindness toward children, anything that led me to see my children in a negative light or as somehow “less than” adults in regards to value and need for respect, etc, etc.)
A couple years of that, and I just started feeling confused with each new book, so I stopped. Doesn’t mean I’m not interested in them, or won’t read any again, but I just decided to stop reading so much of what other people thought, and just work through it on my own (well, with lots and lots of prayers and faith!) and figure out what I think.
That’s where I am now, and it feels pretty good. I don’t always remember all the exact responses I’ve read about and thought I’d like to use, but at least what’s coming out of me is actually coming from me, so it’s usually pretty genuine. And I can always back up and redirect the situation when I realize I’ve headed us in a direction I didn’t want to go.
All this came to my mind this morning as I witnessed how much better a parent my husband is–just naturally, all on his own, no parenting books required. He genuinely respects our kids and honors them. And maybe he just understands them better, expects them to act “childish” sometimes, and doesn’t instantly see flawed little characters in need of correction.
The scenario?
We were all cuddled up on the big bed for a bit, and then Sarah got down and started reading some of the books that were lying on the floor. Eventually Jade wanted to read too, and as she was getting down Sarah announced (in a voice I judged to be rather cold), “Jade, you can’t read the Jack and Annie books.”
Now my first reaction was to ignore her desire, assume she’s being selfish and rude, and dismiss her statement with something like, “We share all the books.” Or “Why can’t she read the ones you’re not reading?” Or whatever. In the name of standing up for Jade, or “fairness”. Or something.
Thankfully Matt responded before I had a chance, and with his naturally understanding and kind voice, gave respect and validation to her wish while still assuming goodness in her. He asked, “Sarah, while you’re reading the Jack and Annie books, would you like to help Jade find a book she can read?”
Her voice and attitude changed instantly, and, where my reaction surely would have resulted in her holding on to her “stingy” desire even more strongly, clinging to her wishes and feeling more resentful of Jade than ever, his validation allowed her to let go of those kinds of feelings and her generosity and sweetness became abundant:
“Yeah! Ja-ade, do you want to read this book you were reading last night? Or how about The Tale of Peter Rabbit? You love that one!”
And of course Jade just beams when her sister is using that kind of voice with her, so she accepted the offer happily.
My husband is a parenting genius. And he doesn’t even know it.
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