Lately life has been somewhat tempestuous at home. Emma's
4-1/2-year-old priorities conflict with Max's 2-1/2-year-
old priorities -- add two work-a-holic parents and their own
stresses, and voila, you have a powder keg. Recently it got to
the point I was looking forward to travelling so I could have a
few days of peace. I take that as a bad sign.

The last few days gave me new insight into my job as a parent
-- and equally essential lessons as a consultant and manager.
Most managers tell me their biggest struggles are managing
conflicts and relationships -- so perhaps this story about
managing the conflicts at home will provide ideas even to
those without kids.

Last week I had time with Karen McCown, Six Seconds' Chairman
and Founder. We talk frequently about my little family and
about her grandchildren. As many EQ Reflections readers have
told me, grandparent-hood sounds like the best of parenting:
all the love, none of the "hot buttons."

The next day I happened to talk to a colleague and the
psychotherapist sitting next to her. I talked a bit about my
struggles at home, and I was struck by the dramatic difference
between the therapist's approach and Karen's.

The therapist said, "It sounds like you are letting you kids
run things in your house, and you can't do that."
Somewhat testy, I said, "Actually, I can do it -- but I agree
it might not be a good idea."
"You need to be clear about who's in charge," she went on,
ignoring my frail jibe, "and consistently reward the
appropriate behavior and have consequences for the
inappropriate behavior. You have to be more consistent."
Not bad advice for a cocktail party. Then I considered Karen's
advice from the evening before and how different it was.

First Karen asked me what is happening -- what's the pattern.
I explained that a conflict escalated, Emma's behavior got
explosive, and I sent her to time out or her room.
"Is that working?" asked Karen.
"Not really."
"So you probably don't want to keep doing it, do you?" Under
Karen's clear gaze, there was only one available answer. I shook
my head. "Do you and Emma talk about what happened?"
"Emma would rather not," I say starting to feel a bit pathetic
-- how did I give a four-year-old so much power?
After a few more minutes, Karen summarized our discussion
into this experiment: "Why don't you try this: Next time you
send Emma to her room, say, 'When you are ready to talk about
what happened, come get me.' Then, discuss what happened and
make an agreement about what Emma and you will do differently
next time. Write it down where Emma can see it."

Before I tell you what happened, what's the difference between
Karen's advice and the unknown therapist's? Notice who had
the power or "right" in the adult-to-adult conversations.
Notice how each approach changes the power dynamic between
Emma and me -- one actually escalates the power struggle,
the other side-steps it.
My sense is that Karen's advice also focuses on the long term
vs. short term -- Emma needs to make decisions for herself,
and eventually these will be fairly serious decisions. What am
I doing now to equip her for that challenge?

This weekend when one of the "inevitable" conflicts occurred,
I had a surprising experience. While I was caught up in the
conflict, I did not feel the need to explode -- I didn't feel
hopeless. This is the power of having a new strategy.
I asked Emma if she wanted to talk about what happened, when
she grouched, "NO," I followed Karen's advice. A few minutes
later, Emma was ready to talk. I began my Self-Science process
and asked, "What happened?"
I discovered that looking at the whole event was too complex,
that Emma really had trouble telling the story. So I began
telling what I thought happened, and after each little piece,
I asked if she agreed -- really asked, not to get agreement but
to get her view. We agreed on some parts, not others, and didn't
debate it -- we both identified the story from our sides.
Then I identified the part that was upsetting for me: "I felt
ignored when I told you to stop grabbing your brother for the
second time and it did not seem like you listened. Were you
listening?"
"No," said Emma, and I could see the realization sink in.
We put up a chart paper in her room and I asked what I should
write. Emma said, "No Ignoring."
I was surprised again when the next day there was a minor
tussle between Emma and Max. When I asked what happened,
Emma told me, and said we need to go write on the list.

I suspect that a large part of my own reactivity with the kids
comes from feeling so powerless -- from feeling like this
won't end, and I can't stop it. So the lesson for me as a parent:
- keep practicing optimism (it WON'T last forever and I CAN
make a difference if I try).
- keep experimenting with new ways of communicating.
- to stay out of the power struggle -- make my job be "help
them learn" rather than "enforce."

Reflecting on the two different styles of giving me advice, I
see three key points to remember an "expert," consultant,
and manager supporting others.
- Ask, help them see the story, the pattern.
- Challenge the "insane" (doing the same thing over and over
and expecting different results)
- Offer questions, alternatives, and experiments rather than
answers.
I need to remember I don't have the answers to my own challenges
, let alone yours! Perhaps the best we can offer one another is
a compassionate ear and the encouragement to keep learning.
It's probably harder to sell than "the answer," but I suspect
there's a lot more value in it.

Warmly yours,
- Josh

******

This is an EQ Reflection from Six Seconds. Please forward and share
-- and keep this part too:

©2003, Joshua Freedman
Josh is a leader in teaching people to apply and enhance their
emotional intelligence (EQ). He works with organizations
and individuals around the world developing EQ programs that
increase accountability, motivation, and purpose. Read about his
speaking at http://www.jmfreedman.com -- and for more about
emotional intelligence, visit the Six Seconds EQ Network: http://www.6seconds.org .

******