The power to listen

We have a new family member. His name is Yaari. Well, he is not actually our family member - he is a new kid in my older son's class. But as much as I keep hearing about him in recent days, he might as well move in with us.

- Yaari had a D on his test again today.

- I don't care about the grades of other kids. I only care about yours. And so should you.

- But he is the worst student in class. He never answers any questions. He only draws. And he is not even good at that.

- I don't care. You should not pay attention to what other kids do in class.

- But they always put me with him, and he always asks me questions.

- If he is distracting, you should talk to the teacher.

- He never does anything when our team does a project, and then takes credit for it.

- You should resolve it with the teacher. If you can't, I can talk to the teacher for you.

- No! I don't want to be a cry-baby.

- Ok, then I won't hear more about Yaari.

Next day, the Yaari conversation begins again. Finally, yesterday I've had enough. "If I hear one more word about Yaari, I am writing a note to the teacher and solving this problem," - I snap. "No! I won't talk about him anymore, I promise," - my son replies.

That was a mistake. I only realized it today. I shut off my son's ability to vent about a problem that is obviously bothering him.

How many times do we come home from work and complain to our spouse about a nasty boss, a lazy coworker, a nosy friend? We know our partner can't help, and we don't want any help. All we want is a sympathetic ear and an ability to vent. We often feel that if we keep our problem to ourselves, we would explode. So we need to let it out. All we need from a spouse, a friend, or a parent, is to listen. No help. No advise. No judgement. Just patient listening. And when we let off steam, we feel grateful, and we feel better.

Why, then, when our kids come to us with a problem, we feel a strong desire to interfere? They have a problem, so they must need an advise, or help, or a note to a teacher, or a tutor. They need our help in some way. Is it a parent's instinct to always rush to the rescue? When they are little, and they have a problem, most of the time they do need your help. But the more they grow up, the more situations arise when you can't help. And even if you can, you shouldn't. "Helicopter parenting" only makes problems worse.

When a child comes to you with a problem, make time to listen. Stop what you are doing or suggest another more convenient time when you can give him your full attention. Listen and think if he really needs you to interfere, or he simply wants to let off steam. Depending on the situation, offer help or suggest how your child can solve the problem himself. And if he refuses your suggestion, don't immediately rush with another one. He may not have wanted a suggestion. He may simply have wanted a sympathetic ear, or a shoulder to cry on. If he feels better after talking to you, your job is done.

I now know how hard it can be to listen to the same problem over and over again and not being able to do anything about it. But it is important to recognize when you have to listen, and do so. Afterall, we don't appreciate it when we come to our spouse with our problems, and he looks bored, or uninterested, or simply cuts us off because it's a 100th time he listens to the same problem and he can't help. I need to reassess the Yaari situation. Shutting my son out is not a good solution, no matter how irritating it is to listen to the same complains every day.