Olivia: The most common parenting advice is a lie. When your child is upset, your instinct is to fix it, to reassure them, to tell them 'it's okay.' What if that's the single worst thing you can do? Jackson: Hold on. The worst thing? Worse than ignoring them or yelling at them? That seems a little extreme. Olivia: I’m serious. What if leaning into the 'bad' feeling, actually acknowledging the storm instead of trying to stop the rain, is the only real way out? Jackson: Okay, you have my attention. That feels completely backward from everything we're taught. Where is this radical idea coming from? Olivia: It’s the premise at the heart of How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish. And this wasn't just a random idea they cooked up. Jackson: Right, they weren't just two moms with a blog. Olivia: Not at all. Both Faber and Mazlish were students of the famous child psychologist Dr. Haim Ginott. They essentially translated his groundbreaking, empathy-first psychological principles into a practical playbook for parents. That’s why it became a #1 New York Times bestseller and is still considered a 'parenting bible' for so many, decades after it was first published in 1980. Jackson: A 'parenting bible' is a big claim. Let's start with that first idea you mentioned—leaning into the bad feelings. It sounds like you’re telling me to pour gasoline on a fire. How does that even work?

Olivia: It works because of a simple, powerful connection the book makes right at the beginning. It’s a quote from Dr. Ginott himself: "Direct connection between how kids feel and how they behave. When kids feel right, they’ll behave right." Jackson: When kids feel right, they’ll behave right. I can see that. When I’m in a good mood, I’m a better person. When I’m stressed, I’m short with everyone. So, it’s the same for kids. Olivia: Exactly. And the book’s big reveal is how we help them feel right. It’s not by cheering them up or telling them their problem is small. It's by accepting their feelings. The authors realized they were constantly telling their own children not to trust their own perceptions. Things like, "You're not tired, you just took a nap," or "There's no reason to be so upset about that." Jackson: Oh, I have said both of those things. Probably this week. It’s a reflex. You’re trying to make them feel better, to give them perspective. Olivia: But what the child hears is, "You are wrong to feel what you are feeling." It can be confusing and even infuriating for them. The book has this fantastic story about a father who had just attended one of their workshops. Jackson: Let me guess, he gets tested immediately. Olivia: Instantly. His son comes home from the bus stop, slams the door, and says, "I'm gonna punch Michael in the nose!" The father's first instinct, as he says, was to ask a million questions: "What happened? Why would you do that? Did you start it?" You know, the typical parental investigation. Jackson: The cross-examination. I know it well. Olivia: But he stops himself. He remembers the workshop. And instead of all that, he just looks at his son and says with empathy, "Boy, you sound really angry. You must be furious with Michael." Jackson: And what happened? Did the kid just calm down? Olivia: Something even better. The son, who was braced for a lecture, just sort of deflates. And then, unprompted, he tells the whole story. Michael had thrown his new notebook in the dirt. But as he kept talking, feeling safe and heard, he started to figure out the why. He realized Michael was probably mad because he thought he’d broken his clay bird in art class earlier that day. Jackson: Ah, so there was a backstory. Olivia: A whole backstory that the father would have never gotten if he'd started with questions and advice. The son then says, "I think Debby pushed me and that's what broke it. I should tell Michael that. And he should still apologize for my notebook." He worked out his own, very reasonable solution. The father was just astonished. He said he was more helpful to his son by just listening than he ever was by trying to solve things. Jackson: That is incredible. But it sounds almost too easy. What if the kid is just being completely unreasonable? Or what if they say something truly awful, like in the book, when the author's daughter says, "I hate Grandma!" You can't just validate that, can you? Olivia: That's the million-dollar question, and the book has a brilliant answer. This is where it gets really strategic. The rule is: "All feelings can be accepted. Certain actions must be limited." You don't have to agree with the feeling, you just have to acknowledge it. Jackson: Okay, so what does that sound like? "I hear that you hate Grandma right now"? That still feels wrong. Olivia: The book suggests a technique called "granting their wish in fantasy." So for the "I hate Grandma" comment, the author learned to say something like, "It sounds like you are so angry at Grandma right now! So angry you're having 'I hate her' feelings. You wish you could tell her just how you feel!" You’re not saying hating Grandma is okay. You're naming the intense feeling behind the words. For a kid who wants a toy you won't buy, you can say, "You wish you could have every toy in this store! Wouldn't it be amazing if we could just buy the whole store and live in it?" Jackson: Ha! I like that. You're joining their fantasy instead of fighting their reality. You’re on their team, even while you’re saying no. Olivia: Precisely. You’re showing them you understand the depth of their desire or their anger, and that alone takes the fight out of the interaction. The emotion has somewhere to go. It’s been seen. And once it's seen, it doesn't need to scream so loudly anymore.

Olivia: And that idea—that kids can solve their own problems once they feel heard—is the perfect bridge to the second major shift this book proposes. It's about moving away from punishment entirely and toward genuine cooperation. Jackson: This is the part that I think a lot of people would struggle with. The fear is, if you don't punish, you're being permissive. You're letting them get away with murder. Olivia: The authors argue that punishment is actually the lazy way out, and it's ineffective. It makes the child preoccupied with revenge fantasies—"She's so mean! I'll get her back!"—instead of thinking about what they actually did wrong. Jackson: It distracts from the lesson. I can see that. So what's the alternative? Olivia: They offer a toolkit of five skills to engage cooperation. The first, and maybe most powerful, is to simply Describe the problem. No blame, no accusation. Just describe what you see. Jackson: Give me an example. The classic wet towel on the bed. Olivia: Instead of "How many times do I have to tell you not to leave your wet towel on my bed?! Are you trying to drive me crazy?", you just say, matter-of-factly, "There's a wet towel on my bed." Jackson: That’s it? "There's a wet towel on my bed." It feels so... understated. Olivia: But think about what it does. The book says, "It’s hard to do what needs to be done when people are telling you what’s wrong with you. It’s easier to concentrate on the problem when someone just describes it to you." It takes the personal attack out of it and just presents a problem to be solved. The other skills build on this: Give Information ("The towel is making my blanket damp"), Say it with a Word ("Towel!"), or Talk about Your Feelings ("I get furious when my clean bed gets wet!"). Jackson: Okay, I can see how those are more respectful. But what about when the problem is bigger than a towel? What about a recurring issue, like a kid who is always, always late? Olivia: That’s where the ultimate tool comes in: collaborative problem-solving. There's a fantastic, detailed story about a boy named Bobby who is chronically late for dinner. His mom tried everything—yelling, punishing, grounding him. Nothing worked. Jackson: A familiar story for many parents. Olivia: So, she tries the book's method. She sits down with Bobby when they're both calm and says, "Bobby, I have a problem. I get worried when you're not home by six, and it's frustrating to cook a meal that gets cold. But I also know how much you love playing with your friends. This is a problem for both of us. Let's brainstorm some solutions together." Jackson: She's framing it as a team problem, not just his failure. Olivia: Exactly. And they brainstorm. Bobby suggests he just come home late. Mom rejects that. Mom suggests she come get him. Bobby rejects that. They go back and forth, writing down every idea, no matter how silly. Eventually, they discover two key pieces of information: Bobby's watch is broken, and he hates leaving his friends when the game is at its best point. Jackson: Details you'd never get from a lecture. Olivia: Never. So they come up with a joint solution. One, they'll move dinnertime to 6:15 to give him more time. Two, Bobby will contribute money from his savings to get his watch fixed. Three, he'll listen for the six o'clock firehouse whistle as a backup signal to head home. Jackson: Wow. He's part of the solution, so he has ownership over it. He's not just complying with a rule; he's executing a plan he helped create. Olivia: And it worked. He started coming home on time. The book's point is that this approach transforms the dynamic. You’re no longer a cop trying to enforce rules on a resistant suspect. You're a team of engineers trying to solve a logistical problem. It’s a profound shift in mindset. Jackson: But you have to be authentic, right? The book mentions the parent who tried to sweetly say "The towel is getting my blanket wet" but was so angry inside she ended up hitting the child, which she instantly regretted. Olivia: Yes, authenticity is crucial. If you're angry, you can say it. The key is to use an "I-statement." "I feel angry," not "You are a bad kid." You can say, "I get absolutely furious when I see a wet towel on my bed!" That's honest. It's real. And it's still describing your feeling, not attacking their character. The goal isn't to be a zen master who never gets angry. It's to express that anger in a way that doesn't do damage and still invites a solution.

Jackson: So when you pull it all together, it seems like the whole philosophy boils down to one thing: treat children like people. Respect their feelings, even if you don't understand them, and trust them to be part of the solution, not just the source of the problem. Olivia: Exactly. And it's more than just being 'nice.' It's strategic. Faber and Mazlish argue that punishment is a distraction. The child stops thinking about what they did wrong and starts thinking about revenge or their own victimhood. But when you describe a problem or engage in problem-solving, their mental energy has to go toward fixing the issue. You're not just stopping bad behavior in the short term; you're building a responsible, empathetic, and self-reliant human for the long term. Jackson: You're teaching them how to think, not just what to do. And you're preserving the relationship while you do it. The connection doesn't become a casualty of the correction. Olivia: That's the perfect way to put it. The book is really a manual for preserving that connection. It recognizes that love isn't enough. We all love our kids. But love without skill can still lead to immense frustration and conflict. These are the skills. Jackson: It's fascinating that this was written in 1980, before we had all this modern language around emotional intelligence and gentle parenting, yet it feels like it laid the groundwork for so much of it. The ideas are timeless because they're based on fundamental human respect. Olivia: They are. And they work on adults, too. Try describing a problem to your spouse or colleague instead of accusing them. The results can be just as magical. It makes you wonder, how many of our daily frustrations, with kids and adults, come from us trying to control the person instead of just describing the problem? Jackson: That's a powerful question to end on. It reframes almost every conflict. We'd love to hear from our listeners. What's one small communication shift you've tried—maybe from this book or just from your own experience—that made a big difference in your family? Let us know on our social channels. We're always curious to hear how these ideas play out in the real world. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.