Say "OK" and do it

My sister-in-law (also known as "the other Michelle Marte") has a saying that she uses when it comes to her children:

"We do not negotiate with terrorists."

If our children want something, and they whine, or they scream, or they yell, the answer is an automatic "No." No matter how much they beg and plead, the answer is, was, and always will be a resounding "No." Our minds cannot be changed by poor behavior. We do not negotiate with terrorists.

But what about the times when they're not screaming, yelling, or whining? What about the times when their requests, however unreasonable, are presented in a slightly more reasonable way?

Then the waters become a little but more murky.

I am convinced that my son, Max, is going to be a lawyer when he grows up. Maybe he will specialize in labor management cases. Or, better yet, maybe he'll be a criminal defense attorney who becomes famous for convincing prosecutors to give his clients the best possible deal.

Or maybe he'll use his powers for good instead of evil, and he'll become a hostage negotiator. Or someone who talks people down off of tall, tall buildings.

Whatever he ends up doing, I can be sure that it will somehow involve his powers of persuasion, which he works to perfect on a daily basis.

Max is a negotiator. You know the type -- he's convinced that there's no such thing as a hard "No," and if he can only say or do the right thing, you will change your mind and give in to his demands.

It's partly my fault that he turned out this way. When he was in pre-school and I was tired after being up all night with his newborn sister, I got lazy and I introduced him to the concept of negotiating. He wanted something, I said no, he started to whine, and I, knowing that my brain would explode if I had to listen to even one more second of whining, said,

"Convince me."

Huh?

"If you really want this, and if you think that there's a really good reason why I should let you have it, then tell me what the reason is. Convince me."

And so it began. He would lay out all of his arguments, and I would determine whether or not he had made a convincing case. If his reasoning was sound, I would change my mind. If his reasons were dumb, my "No" would stand firm.

Most of the time, the "No"s ended up winning. Four-year-olds have a tendency to try to reason with you by saying things like "Because I want it" and "Because I said please." These are reasons, but they are not compelling reasons, and they are not enough to convince me to change my mind.

But his skills have developed over time.

Now, when he predicts that I will say "No" to whatever it is that he wants, he comes in with both guns blaring before he even asks his question.

"I already finished my homework, and my toys are all picked up, and Daddy says that we have half an hour until dinner is ready, so can I please, please play Lego Star Wars?"

How do I say no to that?

For the most part, I think that the negotiations are fine. He's learning a skill that will become useful later on in life (Apparently he started using it with his pre-school classmates prior to moving on to Kindergarten. I once received a report from his teacher stating that Max and another child had had a dispute about something, the other child had threatened to tell the teacher, and Max had said, "Wait! Let's see if we can work something out.")

But sometimes, when "negotiating" starts to feel more like "arguing," I just want him to accept that "No means No."

When it's already half an hour past his bedtime, and I know that he won't want to wake up for school the next morning, I do not want to negotiate about whether he should brush his teeth and go to bed or whether he should be allowed to read "just one more chapter."

When I am tired after a long day at work, and I tell him to go get his clothes off and get ready for his shower, I don't want to debate about why he should be allowed to play his video game BEFORE he takes his shower instead of AFTER he takes his shower.

Sometimes, I just want to give an answer, and I want him to accept it.

This is where our newest favorite phrase comes in.

Say "OK" and do it.

We learned this from Max's Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Moak, who is also known as the most wonderful woman on Earth (more on her another time). Apparently, she has also been introduced to Max's powers of persuasion. But she, unlike us, has learned through her years of teaching how to deal with such a person.

When she tells Max to do something, and he starts to argue with her, she says, "Max, just say "OK" and do it." And the most amazing thing happens. He says "OK," and then he goes off and does whatever it is that she just asked him to do. No fussing. No "But, but, but..." He just does it.

It's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen!

The first time that we witnessed this phenomenon was during a parent/teacher conference. Jud and I were trying to talk to Mrs. Moak, and I had asked Max to do something for me. He started gearing up to offer me a list of alternatives to whatever I had just requested, and I started gearing up to pull on my Mom Pants and say, "Because I said so, young man" (or something equally parental sounding), when Mrs. Moak said, "Max, say "OK" and do it." And he stopped, mid-sentence, and said "Oh. OK." and then he went off and did what I had just asked him to do.

Our mouths gaping open, we turned to this magical teacher, and we said, "What just happened? How did you do that?"

She explained that she had recently attended a seminar where they had discussed this technique, and she had found it to be interesting, so she had started using it in her classroom. So far, she had met with great success.

By asking the children to say "OK," she was asking them to acknowledge that they had heard and understood what she had just asked them to do. And by adding the "and do it" onto the end, she was giving them an almost hypnotic suggestion: of course they would do whatever it was, why wouldn't they?

We fell in love with this technique, and we started using it immediately.

Like any technique, it has its limits. We try not to use it too often, as we don't want to wear it out. And we don't want to quash the brilliant negotiation skills that Max is developing, as we don't want to be held responsible when he is unable to convince a crazed gunman to stop picking people off from atop a clock tower because we insisted that he do what we told him to do, rather than teaching him how to think for himself.

But when the situation merits, when we are tired of having to assert our parental authority for the fifteenth time in a row, we will stop what we are doing and we will say, "Max, just say "OK" and do it."

And he will.

It's a beautiful thing.