Making Great Conversationalists: Chapter One - Part Four

We've had a wild and crazy week here in Kidlet land.  The Spawn has started weekly outpatient PT to help him learn to walk.  Spawn has unusually flexible hips and has used that super power to learn how to sit and crawl using minimal abdominal muscle support.  It's a good trick for army-crawling, but a weak abdomen is keeping him from learning how to pull himself up into standing and remain standing.  So...we're learning how to use bicycle shorts with the inner leg seams sewn together to make it nearly impossible for him flex his hips into a large support base for three 20 minute sessions a day to let him start getting ripped toddler abs. 

Spawn's pretty accepting of the modified bike shorts - also known as Hip Helpers - and absolutely diametrically opposed to the existence of the PT gym  up to and including Dr. Robin who is his current PT.   While Spawn vocally disagrees with me, Dr. Robin is awesome and so good with Spawn.  Having a toddler who screams and cries for 20 minutes out of an hour session (albeit in discrete burst of baby anxiety or rage) is emotionally exhausting for me.  The physical exhaustion comes having a 21 pound tot clinging or wrestling with me for 60 minutes plus carrying him to and from the car.  (Spawn's also in the middle of a stroller strike that causes him to scream or cry when placed in his stroller.)

At the same time, I'm gearing up to begin subbing a few days a week while Spawn is with his doting grandparents.  I love the idea of being in a classroom again - but those whom the gods wish to destroy are first sent to get a substitute teaching licence in Michigan.   I feel like I've jumped through nearly as many hoops to get a substitute licence as I did to get an unlimited teacher's licence way back when during a time where Michigan is frantic because of a lack of full-time teachers to fill classrooms now that school is starting.

So that's the lowdown on why my posting schedule is all over the place again.  The good news is that I have one last dialogue in the first chapter of "Making Great Conversationalists" by Steven and Teri Maxwell.  In a change of pace, both dialogues sound plausible in this example.  The reason for this influx of reality, I suspect, is the fact that the Maxwells have actually been in this situation AND are freed from their previous obsession with how their children's conversation reflects on their parenting.   Today, we listen in on a fairly newlywed couple - April and Ryan - who have a eight month old son named Joseph.  April is a stay-at-home mom and Ryan has just come home from his office job.

At six-thirty, April hears the garage door go up, announcing Ryan's return home from work. She picks up Joseph and hurries down the stairs to greet him. " Ryan, I hope dinner isn't spoiled since you had to work late. It's your favorite - chicken enchiladas. I sure wish you could have come home on time. It's been a long day. Joseph has been extra fussy today, and he only took two half hour naps all day! Because it was rainy, we couldn't even go for our morning walk. The day seems so long, and now I have a terrible headache. I sure hope you are planning to spend some time with us tonight."

Ryan is checking his emails and text messages as he emerges from the car. " Sorry, April."

"Joseph wouldn't eat his sweet potatoes. He kept spitting them out. Then he took his cup and threw it on the floor every time I put it back on his high chair tray. I think something is wrong with the washing machine. It is making a funny noise that I haven't heard before. I tried to write a check for the electric bill, but I couldn't find the checkbook. Do you know where it is?"

" No." Ryan hugs the two of them while reading his phone over their shoulders. " I really want to get changed. Why don't you put Joseph in his pack-and-play while you get dinner finished up?"

So many stay-at-home mommies with little children are starved for adult conversation when their husband returns home from work. Like many of them, April blast Ryan with all the problems of the day, while he remains engaged in his work issues either mentally or through his phone. They are not building the kind of relationship that they would like to have: a relationship that is developed through good conversation. (pg.16-17)

As a stay-at-home mom to a toddler, I have far more sympathy for April than I do for Ryan in this situation.  At the end of exasperating days, I've referred to my son as a nonverbal capricious tyrant with inscrutable whims.  Being stuck at home with a crabby baby who refuses to nap and is creating a mess every time they are fed is exhausting and monotonous.  Adding in the fact that a critical piece of equipment for household function is making weird noises makes the day longer from background worry - and that's not taking into account the frustration of a missing checkbook.   I also understand the habit of sharing important pieces of info - like "the washing machine might be on the verge of breaking" - pretty quickly after my husband comes home.  I do that because I may not remember if I put it off any longer and my husband gets that.

April does do three things that I find off-putting.  Chicken enchiladas keep well in a warm oven; it's not like she's serving a Yorkshire pudding or a chocolate souffle that will be kinda off if it gets cold.  The only issue I can see with enchiladas is that the bits of tortilla that aren't covered in sauce could dry out a bit in a warm oven over time.  Thankfully, the magic of aluminum foil can prevent the really minor inconvenience of overly dry tortilla bits.   That's the only issue I can think of - and it is not worth passive-aggressively complaining to her husband about. 

Similarly, the complete lack of a backstory makes April's comment that she hopes Ryan will spend time with April and Joseph tonight seem passive-aggressive or needy.   If Ryan does extra work at home or tends to veg out, some description of his previous actions would ground the story more. 

Finally, did April and Ryan adopt Joseph last week?  April's concerns about Joseph's eating habits are really strange for the mother of an infant that age.  Eight-month old babies reject foods all the time.  Hell, my son would scarf a puree one day and behave like it was poison the next.    He'd only eat purees some days if I let him hold the spoon the entire time.  I tried letting him hold two empty spoons - one for each hand.  No dice; he wanted to have some control over utensils going near his mouth.  (Can't blame him for that, really.)   Likewise, an eight month old will treat any object they can reach in a high chair as a potential projectile.  Even at 17 months, my son is equally likely to toss a sippy cup onto the floor as he is to drink from it.   Eight months also feels really young for a kid to handle a cup; my son's OT/Speech therapist was happily surprised when I told her that Spawn was starting to drink slightly thickened liquids from a cup I held and guided at ten months adjusted age.  The Spawn really only got good at drinking straight liquids from a sippy cup at around 15 months of age - so April might be worried over a milestone Joseph is several months away from being ready for.

April's got her quirks - but I'm hard-pressed to find anything likeable about Ryan.  He can't detach from his phone for thirty seconds to greet his wife and child?  He literally cannot complete a hug without reading from his phone.  Does Ryan multitask having sex with his wife while reading his emails?  (I don't really want to know the answer to that.) Why can't he say "April, I'm sorry, but I've got to wrap one business thing up before being done for the night." ?  April may still be tired and wound up - but at least Ryan would be respectful of her attempts to communicate with him instead of being completely checked out.    I might be reading overly much into this - but the fact that Ryan recommends April drop off the baby in his pack n' play while she finishes dinner makes me wonder if he was listening to her at all.  April said she's finished dinner a while ago.  The process of sticking a serving spoon into a dish of enchiladas after pulling it out of the oven takes less than 30 seconds even if she's got a baby on her hip.  Conversely, perhaps the writer of this section isn't a cook and has no idea how strange Ryan sounds.....

The advice section feels a bit overly harsh on April - and way too permissive on Ryan's behavior.  I can see how April might come across as overly intense when Ryan first came home - but she's not being rude, just tired and overwhelmed.  Ryan, on the other hand, is being damned rude.

The ideal conversation, on the other hand, is two people alluding to events in their day without actually discussing them:

Let's see how that conversation could have gone if both April and Ryan had learned to be loving conversationalists.

At six-thirty, April hears the garage door go up, announcing Ryan's return home from work. She picks up Joseph and hurries down the stairs to meet him. " Joseph, Daddy's home!" she bubbles to the baby as they move into the garage. " Ryan, I kept dinner warm in the oven since you had to work late. We have been so looking forward to having you home."

" Me too. It was a rough day at work. I will tell you all about it when we eat dinner. How was your day, sweetheart?"

" My day was rough too. I'll tell you more about that later. Would you believe Joseph sat up all by himself after his nap when he was playing on the floor? I hope he does it again tonight for you. He was so cute, and I think he actually was proud of himself."

' Yeah! Another milestone for our little man," Ryan hugs the two of them and takes Joseph into his arms. " Hey, Joseph, Daddy loves you so much, and I am so glad to be home with you."

April says, " I made your favorite for dinner tonight. Chicken enchiladas. I'll go put the food on the table while you play with Joseph." (pgs. 17-18)

See, life is so much sweeter when you sweep the frustrations and irritations of family and work under the rug while focusing on the strangely angelic baby!  Ryan's in for one hell of a shock when he starts playing with Joseph and Joseph devolves into a sobbing pile of eight month old baby because he's teething or afraid of sweet potatoes or really wanted to live in the garage.  (Seriously, it's not kind to hand off a crabby, sleep-deprived baby to a spouse without fair warning.)   April, who still has a headache, a washing machine that is making foreboding noises, and no checkbook in sight, is going to be super-happy when she is ready to relax only to find out that Ryan needs to finish an urgent matter from work tonight.   Will anyone be happier when the washing machine throws a bearing in the middle of a load tomorrow morning and April can't hire a repairman because Joseph ate the checkbook and so a frantic phone call arrives in the middle of Ryan's meeting that he's spent hours prepping for last night?

There is a happy medium.  When my husband comes home, we both make a good faith effort to greet each other warmly and express happiness that the baby is alive and well.  Next, we dump all of the assorted household and work baggage that we need to discuss and get those things squared away.  That way we are less likely to forget something important like "I think Spawn is teething again..." or be emotionally unavailable because one of us is distracted by something that happened. 

The end of each chapter has a series of questions for families to go over as they read the book.   In CP/QF writing tradition, the questions range from painfully dull to horrifying.  I've picked out the ones that amuse me or provide unintentional glimpses into how dysfunctional the families really are:

1) Read the good and bad conversations in this chapter as a family. Discuss them. Can your children discern the good ones from the bad ones? What do they think makes the good ones good and the bad ones bad? (pg. 19)

Well, the entire book follows the pattern of topic A bad conversation,  topic A good conversation, topic B bad conversation,  topic B good conversation ad nauseum.   Assuming the children have moderate skill in pattern recognition, I'm pretty sure they'll get the pattern even if they have no idea of the difference between the two conversations.   Be sure to give them full credit if they answer "The good conversations come second!"   Oddly enough, another correct answer would be "The good conversation conceals more information than the bad conversation" - and I'm not sure that's a lesson I want my kid to learn.

2) Sit down individually with each child with the state of purpose to talk. Go somewhere private in the house where there won't be distractions. Tell the child you want to be able to talk with him, and let him know he isn't in trouble. Ask your child some questions then evaluate his conversation with you. Here are some suggestions for questions you could ask. Ask if he has anything pressing he wants to talk to you about. Ask if he is having any problems in general, any problems with you, or any problems with other family members. Ask him how he is spending his time. (pg. 19-20)

*blinks*

"Hey, Billy.  Sit down.  We have the stated purpose to talk.  Yeah, here's your blanky.    No, the stated purpose to talk means that we're going to talk.  Not porpoise - purpose.  We are purposing to talk.  Please don't jump on the bed when we're purposing to talk.  I need you to use your words.  I need you to use your English words, not dolphin squeaks.  I know that dolphins jump in the air - but you need to stop jumping on the bed even if you are a dolphin."

"Hi, Leslie.  We have the stated purpose to talk....why are you crying?  No, you're not in trouble.  Why would you think you were in trouble?  I do not only talk to you one-on-one when you are in trouble.  You are not in trouble.  Great.  So....do you have any problems with me?  Wait, why are you crying again?  Look, you are not in trouble."

"Hi, Jana.  We have the stated purpose to talk.  You are not in trouble.  Did you think you were in trouble? Why does everyone think they are in....nevermind.    Are you having any problems with any family members?  Jessa's keeping you up at night by kicking your bed.  How do you want to solve it?  No, having her switch beds would be too much work.  What's another solution?  Eh...me talking to her is too much work.  How about you give her your prized jewelry box?  Why are you objecting to giving someone who is harassing you something you love with no promise of stopping the behavior?  You are in trouble, missy."

*sighs*

Look, I've spent years learning how to get teenagers to talk to adults.  The only bit of the second question worth doing is trying to find a time and place that is conducive to talking without interruptions.   If the purpose of this exercise is really to evaluate the conversational skills of a kid or teen, make sure you give them an easy, light topic that they can talk about without bringing up a welter of  hard emotions.   While the Maxwells abhor the following topics, most kids will respond to a chance to discuss their favorite TV show, movie, book, sport or sports team.   Giving them a loaded topic like "let's talk about things I do that frustrate or anger you" especially when the topic is thrown at them cold AND there's no promise of immunity from punishment if the adult doesn't like the answer will likely shut the kid down.

3) After the discussion evaluate your child with the following questions. Make sure you write down your answers and any other pertinent information concerning your child's ability as a conversationalist so you can compare it to a conversation you will have with your child after finishing this book.

• Were you able to spend 15 minutes talking with the child?
• Did the conversation flow between you?
• Was it give or take or one-sided?
• Did your child listen?
• Did he seem interested?
• Did he answer with a word or two or with whole sentences?
• Did he ask you questions?

(pg. 20)

Reality check: not all verbal kids can pull off a 15 minute conversation on command.  Small kids and elementary school aged kids might well wander off course before 15 minutes even if they have excellent conversational skills for their age group. 

Reality check two: The skill of the parent in eliciting conversation from a given child will greatly affect whether or not the kid can do the first three criteria as well as the fifth and sixth one.    Compare this example:
Q: "If you could go anywhere in the world - and money's no limit - where would you want to go?"
A: "Disneyland."
Q: "That's interesting!  I'd like to go to Disneyland, too!  What would you do at Disneyland?"
A: "I'd really like to meet Belle and go on the........"

Now look at this example: 
Q. "Do you have any problems with me that you want to talk about?"
A: "No." 
Q. "How are you getting along with Alice?
A: "Fine."
Q: "Do you have any pressing issues we need to talk about?"
A: "Nope."

Did you notice that I gave the "good" example before the "bad" example?  See, authors can break up monotonous patterns in their writing by reversing the order of examples!    That's a freebie for any CP/QF self-help authors who wander onto my site. *curtseys*

The next chapter shows that the Maxwells haven't taught their kids to read body language and that they pick medical professionals in a very different manner than I do.