From the start, we listen for a cry or whimper. We love the first belly laugh. When the words start coming, we grab the video camera. We can’t wait to hear what they will say next.

But the newness wears off, or the sassiness starts–not sure which–and we start listening less. As the child grows and starts to have a life outside of us, we seem to get so fearful of losing our place in the sun that we spend much of our “together time” yammering away with the wisdom we so desperately need to impart. Our intentions are good, and of course, talking, teaching, and telling with words is a vital part of parenting.

The thing about talking, though, is that it only shows what the speaker is. Our talking doesn’t tell us one thing about the kid behind the ears. In order to know that kid, we eventually have to be quiet and give him or her a chance to get a word in edgewise.

Once the door has been opened, parents have to remember to actually hear what the child has to say. Give me a little credit here…I’m not talking about a kid having carte blanche to say anything, no matter how rude or disrespectful. I’m talking about listening to her when she says she doesn’t like Mrs. Distant, the art teacher. Letting her express her feelings and reasons–especially at the kitchen table–and not telling her she shouldn’t feel that way. A few thoughtful questions might not be a bad idea. Just take care not to drive the conversation always in the direction you want to go.

Sometimes I hear things from my children that just make me cringe. Sometimes I can’t hold my tongue. But I have found that the more I listen, the more they talk. This wasn’t such an issue at four and five, but it becomes more so as they grow older. If you want your kids to talk to you when they are teenagers, start listening to them today. Find out who they are and how they think. Show them, by listening, that you love them unconditionally and will always be interested in who they are and who they become.

Distracted Dining--What are we doing? *photo from flickr.com/photos/artotemsco

There has been a lot in the news lately about distracted driving–particularly the kind involving cell phone use. Statistics show that a driver on a cell phone is four times more likely to be involved in an accident; new studies indicate that laws are not making much of a difference.

This isn’t my battle, though. Every driver makes his or her own decisions and then lives with the consequences. My topic today is for parents, particularly moms, though I see dads doing this, too.

All parents spend some time in parking lots, waiting for children. Sports practices do not end on time, or we arrive a few minutes early just to be on the safe side. Then, instead of wasting time, we decide to catch up with a friend or conduct some business on the cell phone. It’s OK; we are parked.

What I observe many times, though, is the child getting into the car and the parent continuing the conversation on the phone, many times not even glancing at the child. Talk about missing the boat! This is prime time for parent-child communication–from the little guys up through teens.

I have two teenagers, and there are times when they get in the car and do not want to talk. I get that. But if they want to unload about basketball or tell me about their French class or who is going out with whom, I want them to know that I am available to listen. If I am on my telephone, that moment disappears quickly. I miss out; they miss out. The connectedness of our family suffers.

I hear parents complain often that their children quit talking to them as they get older. Is that the case, or do we just stop listening? Maybe the time gets more limited. That’s natural. But when we let unimportant things cut into that time, we are letting a huge opportunity pass to maintain a relationship with our kids.

Don’t pass up a chance to get to know your children better. They change constantly, and if we don’t listen to them, converse with them, we run the risk of waking up one day (when they are 16) and not recognizing who they have become. That’s a risk I do not want to take.