Probably, all parents hope that their children are not afraid of failure and can work tirelessly for the goal, so we also use a lot of methods to guide their children to these qualities.
For example, if a child fails, tell them: Mom knows you're sad, but..."
When the child is ready to give up, he will also encourage him, and the mother knows that this is difficult, but...
However many times children do not! No! buy! single! Didn't get braver because of our encouragement, or even throw a tantrum? What the hell to do?
Why is it suddenly "useless"?
Maybe it's because we mistakenly turned "empathy" into a routine that wants to change the child, empathy is just a foreshadowing, and the "but" behind is the expectation that really wants the child to achieve.
The child's fearful emotions are not truly accepted.
You can do this
First, I and Little D's story: Little D is playing with the dollhouse, and finds that there is a box that cannot be opened, and he is particularly excited to try to open it himself. After trying for a while, I found that it didn't work, and I began to have a precursor to tantrums, so I threw this next to me. I took it and picked it up and looked at it, it was two acrylic tablets that were very difficult to open, and there was transparent glue everywhere, and I guessed that she didn't find this, so it was more difficult.
So, I carefully looked at it and said, "I'll try it", and then I also started to cut hard, and I cut it several times, but I still couldn't cut it. Little D watched me do this seriously, it seemed that it was not okay, so he looked over his head, looked at it for a while and said to me, "Mom, I'll try it", she took the thing again, and she tried to open it there.
After she tried several times, I said, "I'll try it," and I took it and tried again. Then, in addition to the box, I began to cut the transparent glue.
Little D came over to see me squeezing the transparent glue hard, and then said to me, "Let me try it", and then took over and continued to work hard. Just like this box of small things, our mother and daughter took turns saying "I'll try it", taking turns trying to work hard. Eventually Little D opened the box himself. She cheerfully said to me, "Look, I'm open, hahaha," and immediately turned around and threw herself into the play of her dollhouse.
This incident inspired me, and this is what we have been discussing: how to let children not give up easily, let them do a successful thing on their own!
Share 3 points to everyone:
1, parents do not need "all-round"
We always want to show our "omnipotence" in front of our children - we are fluent in English to talk to our children; many embarrassing questions cannot be answered, simply avoid these; poor self-help ability, then do not take children to do. But sometimes, it is not a good thing to be a real parent and show your "incompetence" in front of your children from time to time.
It's like when D and I were unpacking this plastic box, I was actually working with her, and I found it difficult, and I was also very focused.
When the child sees that the parents also need to work hard, and can see the process of the parents' efforts and the final result, the child can understand from an early age that the effort is rewarded, and can be more willing to work hard.
2) True empathy doesn't necessarily require language
In my interactions with Little D, I didn't use any seemingly "empathetic" language, but I already had empathy: I took what she was trying to open, and I was working very hard to open it.
Although I didn't say a word, my "difficult" process was empathy, and I told her with actions, "Hey, it's really hard, I'll try, I want to help you."
3. Crouch down perspective
Perhaps, we have been adults for so long that we have forgotten that we used to be children. So I often remind myself to "squat down" to look at the child's problem, not really talking about her height, but I always remind myself, the perspective of the 1 meter child.
It's a reminder to "forget", to forget those theoretical systems, to empty out all the skills we have as adults, to try to squat down and relearn from the perspective of a "1-meter kid".
When Little D couldn't open the box, I didn't say "you have to work harder" on the one hand, and then I opened it for her by dividing three times and five times, and added, "You see, it's easy, as long as you don't give up."
It also means that when Little D asks me a question, I don't immediately tell her what I know, and then halfway find that she seems to have been uninterested in what I'm saying, and then have to judge, "This child, talk to you, you don't listen."
This also means that when Little D is learning any new skill, I am not doing everything instead, but also always "disgusting" the child, how can I never do it myself, you see the mother, this is good.
Whenever this happens, I imagine myself as the 3 or 4-year-old child in front of me, imagining that I am also trying and experiencing this for the first time, whether the movement and language can be slower, whether it is possible to tolerate the child not to immediately make undaunted actions, try to dismantle these steps with the child, and "re-learn" with the child.