Parents And Children

Parents And Children
Parents And Children
Anonim

Sowing reasonable, kind, eternal, sometimes you have to pick out the land for sowing with a pick.

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We, who gave birth to them and are now trying to raise them - the first ten years, the second ten years, the third ten years. Thinking - "what can I do for them." You can do one thing for them: praise.

Don't be afraid to over praise or praise. It is impossible to overestimate, because there is no better than this concrete of yours in the world anyway. Praising is also impossible, because the more you praise him, the more he is sure that he is good. And the more he is sure that he is good, the better he really is. And vice versa.

The worse he behaves, the more terrible he is, the more unbearable - the more often you need to praise him. All his horror and intolerance come from the desire to prove to himself and others that he is really unbearable. That it is impossible to love him. That he is the worst. Because if he is NOT the worst - why is he so rarely praised? More than anything, he needs to find a person who will not agree with this. He will not agree, knowing how terrible he is, will not agree, knowing what he is capable of and how hard it is with him. Who, knowing everything about him, will still consider him good. And praise.

The better he behaves, the more diligent he is, the more ideal - the more often you need to praise him. Because he's trying his best. Because he desperately needs to be appreciated. Because it’s very harmful not to go to balls when you deserve it. Because the best are either the strongest, or those who need love more than others. And the strongest grow up from those whom they loved very much at the moment when they so needed it.

The more he is no more, grayish, mediocre, ordinary - the more often you need to praise him. Because there are no ordinary and untalented people. Because gray is a poorly considered motley one. Because praised a hundred times a day, he begins to feel special. And for them, as it were, grayish, more than anything else, it is important to catch up with the bright ones. Find out that the division into those and these is conditional, that a butterfly is obtained from a caterpillar of any kind. And that the butterfly that comes out of it will definitely be the best. You firmly believe in this, and therefore praise him.

Praise without regard for bad behavior, praise for everything that falls on the eye, praise for any manifestation of warmth and light, praise for skills, praise for virtue, praise in private and in public, praise constantly, how to smile. Every day. Every time. With every praise saying "I love you." To remember. To absorb. To continue walking around the world with the confidence that he can and should be loved, and not with the feeling that there is nothing to love him for.

Praise them. And you don't have to be afraid that they will never praise you.

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From our working findings. If the child is so heavy that it is completely impossible to conduct a dialogue with him, you can calmly stop scolding him altogether. It doesn't help anyway. Instead of swearing, to which he, everywhere the worst, has a clear immunity, it is better to find good in him and praise him. At least he will be surprised.

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From conversations with parents.

- I give him stars for every good action he has done during the day. Dressed without yelling and screaming - an asterisk. Solved the problem - an asterisk. I did not quarrel with my brother - an asterisk. For every twenty stars I give a gift. Now she began to give out an asterisk for taking pills. I argued for a long time that I should give an asterisk for each pill, and not one for everything. I laughed for a long time. Listen, I say, dear, if I were given an asterisk for every pill I drink from my fun life …

* * *

Dad is sitting in front of us. Dad has a boy. More precisely, dad has four boys, but we work with one. Dad in a suit with a tie (in our latitudes it is almost a cosmic rarity), with a diplomat, the eyes of an underage teenager and with a hedgehog on his head. I want to stroke this hedgehog with my palm.

The conversation is about the boy.

“He really likes you,” I say with conviction, “he remembers you all the time. Says: "but daddy is", "but dad and I are" …

Dad blinks, turns pink and suddenly smiles broadly, making himself look terribly like his ten-year-old son.

To be honest, his son never spoke about dad in front of us. But maybe he will start.

Continuation of the article here.

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