Negotiations with a Preschooler

As parents, we have taken to heart the hackneyed but valuable advice, “Pick your batttles.” Thus we make a number of decisions and give our son some directives and that are non-negotiable.  The rest of the time we try to be flexible.  We try, however, not to nag, argue or vacillate.  Instead we make simple deals.  “How about this?  How about if you finish this much food and pick up your blocks, then we’ll go outside for a while?” “Let’s make a deal.  If you try to go potty before we leave, I’ll read you that story in the car.”

Discussions are calm and our son is rarely oppositional.  The approach has worked well so far, with one side effect:  negotiations are now being initiated by both sides.

Several months back our son wanted my assistance to set up one of his toy train tracks.  So together we created a nice big set-up for his little trains.  Not only because part of me is still 8 years old, but also to be a good parent, I stayed with him and began playing with the train (as we had played together hundreds of times before).  This time, however, he looked at me defensively and stated, “This is my train set.  You shouldn’t play with it.”

“We can both play.  You can drive that engine around there and I could use this one over here,” I suggested.

Still firm, “Actually, I don’t want you to play.”

Instead of letting go, I felt compelled to pursue this lesson in sharing.  Mild guilt can be useful, “Well, I helped you build this nice train track.  Aren’t you glad I did that?  Don’t you want to share with me?”

”No.”

“Well, I thought I did something nice for you by helping you build this track.  Don’t you think it would be fair for me to be able to play with it too?”

He stopped to think for a few seconds, seemed to relax his attitude a little, but remained very serious and earnest, proposing, “How about this?  How about I play with the trains and you go make lunch.”

Quite a deal.  He’s got the language down, his concept of quid pro quo needs a little development.

His technique appeared again when (several months ago) we stooped to using material rewards to jump-start his seemingly non-existent interest in potty training, at times even (gasp!) candy.

At first it was very motivating.  After a while he apparently became fatigued by having to go through the whole disruptive, messy potty process to earn his reward.  So he put an offer on the table, “I’m proposing a new deal.  How about I get a gummi worm when I don’t go potty?”

Unfortunately for him, this was a non-starter.  Again, he was learning he has to offer a little more to the other side.

Another time we needed to go to the laundromat, and Benjamin was really looking forward to it.  For some reason, though, that day he chose to completely dress himself from head to toe for the first time.  From struggling to get his big little head through the hole in his shirt to trying to pull on each sock with 20 tiny little yanks, this took quite a while.

With his “Don’t help!  I can do it,” and my “I don’t know if we’ll have time to go . . . .” it was getting a little tense.  In the end, we ran out of time and I knew there would be trouble.  I broke it to him and asked — rhetorically — if it was OK that we weren’t going today.  (Normally, I try to remember: it’s a bad idea to ask if there’s only one option.) He was skeptical and frustrated but said, “Well, it’s . . . OK . . . but, well, it’s only OK if we . . . if we go to the laundromat another day.”

“Uhhh . . . OK It’s a deal!”

First he was a little heavy on the ”quid ”; then he was a little heavy on the ”quo.” That’s OK; we wouldn’t want him to get too savvy, too soon, or we might have mutiny on our hands.

So far we’re pretty confident in our parenting, but at this rate, if we need advice, instead of “Nanny 911,” we’ll have to turn to “Deal or No Deal.”