Small Steps: 6.5

There are no shortage of things to work on in this grand life, no limits to areas in need of refinement. Of late, for me? Communication. In specific? Tongue-holding.

And so, a small reminder for myself:

Say what you see.

And sometimes, only that.

I’m finding since that this micro-mantra, this ‘Say what you see’ is applicable in nearly any scenario – in offering (and receiving) feedback, in sharing compliments, in encouraging another. Just last month I scrawled a list of helpful things I witnessed Markus doing – for us, for others – and tucked it into a Valentine taped to the garage door. There it was in black and white: every little thing from toothbrushing to trash duty. He felt appreciated. He felt seen.

I’ve been practicing the art all around town – from noticing my hairdresser’s new cheek color (sidenote: it was pink and it looked incredible) to offering a hand to the grandfather in the grocery store.

Sure, we can say what we think. We can say what we know to be true, and why. We can spend our days lecturing, defending our convictions to others, attempting to talk everyone else into understanding things precisely the way we understand them.

But sometimes, often times, we need only say what we see.

And to listen – carefully, intently – to what we don’t.

Small Step No. 6

There’s a tried-and-true tip I’ve often heard from seasoned counselors, one of which is guaranteed to keep arguments fair, gentle and in-the-moment (rather than relying on cheap shots and past scripts), and it is simply this:

Avoid two words: (1) Always and (2) Never.

There are a few obvious reasons here, one of which being that neither of the above words are often true. Does your son really never do the dishes? Are you really always picking up dirty socks? Is your teen truly always on his phone? And so, as of late, I’ve made more of an effort to steer clear of these mounting exaggerations, certainly in an argument, but also in everyday language, and in my own self-chatter.

It has since, oddly enough, transformed my parenting.

It is no longer “You never finish your carrots!” or “You always forget your keys at your friend’s house!” and is instead, something a bit gentler, a bit kinder, a lot more true.

It is a small difference, the tiniest shift. But it makes for a giant space between frustration and exasperation, between correction and shame, between simple mistakes and complete failure.

It is surprisingly hard to do, leaving out the two words.

Last week, as I'm coming home from work, I’m buttoning my coat and adjusting my seat belt and re-buckling a shoe and starting the car when Markus announces he is up snowboarding with his friends.

Why do you always forget to tell me? flies through my mind, and before I can embarrass myself, the littlest voice in the back of my mind reminds me not to say “always.”

(Sometimes, parenting is little more than training a 40-something-year-old to sound precisely like your conscience.)

Small Step No. 5

Genius indeed.

Max's girlfriend Preslee is an expert in strategy, having studied psychology in high school and learning a thing or two from her own three(!) vibrant, boisterous siblings. I’d long admired how she manages to set high expectations for Max without constant nagging, bribes or ultimatums, and a few months ago, she spilled her secret…she was visiting my home for dinner and as she was helping to cut the turkey, she called out to her boyfriend: Thank you for washing your hands!

No nagging. No reminders. No request. Just a simple thank you for a task not yet completed. And sure enough, seemingly out of the woodwork, Max headed into the bathroom to wash his hands for dinner.

My eyes widened, and with a smile, she explained why it works:

Assume the best. They’re smart; they know what is expected of them and, if given a bit of freedom, will mostly live up to those expectations. By offering gratitude for a task not yet completed, I’m communicating (a) the expectation, (b) my trust that the expectation will be met, and (c) the person’s reward (i.e., a simple “thank you”) for meeting it.

She added: I don’t like to use the word “Please” unless I’m making a request, and hand-washing is non-negotiable.

Genius, yes?

And so, a small reminder for myself:

Lead with a thank you, not with a please.

A few weeks ago, a girlfriend called while Markus and I were listening to (loud) music.

I’m gonna take this, I said, turning down the volume on the speakers. Thank you for being quiet.

Markus offered a thumb’s up, then went outside to shoot a few pucks.

—

Top O' The Mornin'

to you!

Peach Diaries is not a brand. There’s no sales strategy, no newsletter sign ups, no editorial calendar, certainly no virtual assistant. It’s simply a place where I can work out what it means to be human, in bits and pieces, all faults and fumbles. Occasionally, I travel worldwide. Every now and then, I post some photos. Sometimes, I write bestsellers. (Just kidding, mostly, I burn the pancakes.)

3 Things of Beauty

Natalye & Markus

1. During courtship, a male Adelie penguin presents his chosen female with a pebble as a gift. If the female accepts, they mate for life.

2. If you die in Amsterdam with no next of kin, and/or no one to mourn for you, a poet will write a poem for you and recite it at your funeral.

3. You, today.