You tell them to "put away the toys" and they continue to play. You ask them to put on a hat - they "forget" it in their pocket.
It feels like there's an invisible wall between your words and their actions. But what if the problem isn't disobedience, but how we communicate?
Children are masters at reading what remains behind the scenes: intonations, gestures, even our internal tension. And often it is these unobvious signals that become the main answer to the question of why simple requests turn into endless arguments.
Think of a child as a radio tuned to the frequency of emotions. When you say “it’s okay” through clenched teeth, what they hear is not the words, but the tremor in your voice and the tension in your shoulders. Children instinctively copy what they feel, not what they are told.
If mom is stressed about work and dad is immersed in his phone, the baby is unlikely to be calm, even if he has been asked ten times to "be quiet." They are like mirrors - they reflect the atmosphere that adults create. And this is not manipulation, but biology: the child's brain is programmed to survive, and to do this, you need to be in touch with the emotions of the "pack."
Let's take a classic example: a parent demands that someone stop yelling, raising their own voice. For a child, this is a contradiction. They see that yelling is an acceptable way to get their way, because adults use it. At such a moment, words lose their power.
It’s much more effective to sit at his eye level, pause, and whisper, “Let’s find a quiet solution.” It sounds like magic, but it works: the unexpected calm switches attention and creates space for dialogue.
Another secret is body language. When you ask your child to help in the kitchen with your back to him, he interprets this as “I don’t care whether you participate or not.” But if you turn your face, smile, and hold out a spoon, the action turns into a game.
Children live in a world of tactile and visual images. A request backed by action (“Show me how you can stack blocks”) is clearer to them than abstract instructions. They learn through movement, not through lectures.
Parents often complain: "He does it out of spite!" But children almost never act out of a desire to harm. Their brains are not yet capable of complex calculations. If a child spills juice on a new sofa, he is not taking revenge for the ban on watching cartoons - he is simply carried away by an experiment: "What will happen if you press the glass like this?"
Punishment in such a situation only teaches to hide mistakes, and not to understand the consequences. Try to say instead of “you are bad”: “Look, the sofa is now wet. Let's figure out together how to fix it.” This way you will shift the focus from the person to the action, and the child will remember the algorithm, and not the feeling of shame.
Sleep is another key to behavior. A tired toddler is like a phone with a dead battery: he’s not “bad,” he just can’t work. Bedtime tantrums, refusal to eat, or aggression are often associated with an overloaded nervous system. But instead of insisting on a “quiet hour,” try rituals.
For example, an hour before bedtime, turn on dim lights, read a book or draw - monotonous actions slow down the rhythm and signal the brain: it's time to rest. Interestingly, children who choose what pajamas to wear or what toy to take to bed are more willing to agree to the rules. It is important for them to feel in control, even in small things.
Food is a separate story. Battles over a bowl of soup do not arise because of unhealthiness. Children instinctively avoid new things - this is an ancient defense mechanism. By forcing them to eat "at least a spoonful", we strengthen the resistance. The alternative is the principle of the "family table".
Place a plate with chopped vegetables, cheese, and fruit in the center and let everyone take what they like. The child, seeing that adults eat with appetite, will sooner or later become interested. Even if today he ate only cucumbers, tomorrow he will try carrots. The main thing is to remove the pressure and give time.
Toys scattered all over the apartment are not a sign of laziness. For children, chaos often means a creative process: a pillow fort, a garage for cars, a “laboratory” made of kitchen utensils. Cleaning up means destroying their world.
To avoid conflict, join forces: “Let's save the cars from the dust monster!” or “Who can collect the red parts faster?” Play is their native language, and through it they are ready to cooperate.
The words “well done” seem useful, but they are like fast food – they give a quick effect, but do not teach self-esteem. When a child hears “you are a genius!” after every little thing, he begins to depend on praise. Try replacing it with observation: “You tied your shoelaces yourself! I see you tried” or “You managed to color more neatly today than yesterday.” This helps develop internal motivation and notice your own progress.
Fear is a frequent companion of parents. "What if he falls?", "What if he doesn't get into school?" But anxiety, like microwaves, insinuates itself into relationships. Children feel when they are being watched with tension, and this scares them. Allow yourself to let go of control sometimes.
If your child is climbing a slide that you think is too high, don't yell "watch out!" - stand next to them and say, "I'm here if you need help." This teaches them to trust themselves and know that support is nearby.
Lastly, children don't listen to us when we don't listen to them. Interrupting play, ignoring questions, or saying "tell me later" creates a barrier.
Try spending 10 minutes a day in their space: sit on the floor, build a tower, listen to an endless story about dinosaurs. These minutes show that their world is important to you. And when children feel heard, they begin to hear others.
Start small. Tonight, instead of "it's time for bed," lie down next to him and ask, "What did you dream about last night?" Sometimes one conversation like this changes more than a hundred orders.
Author: Igor Zur