Early in life it became clear that my little girl, Bethany, loved pleasing people. If what she wanted was not what others wanted, she'd give in to the energy of whomever it was she was eager to please. This is a great trait when obedience to a parent was the issue, but not so great when it came to standing up for herself on the playground. For a short season I would figuratively pat myself on the back whenever Bethany quickly and willingly did what I asked. What a great parent I was! Or not.
Maybe the way kids respond to our parenting is not as much about our great (or not so great) parenting as it is about the combination of their personality, developmental stage, and in Bethany's case, fear of disappointing.
As I thought more deeply about it, I realized that in order to keep the peace and please people, Bethany would say yes to things that it might be best for her to say no to. For example, her grandma used to love to give Bethany a big kiss every time she saw her. Not just any kiss, but a big sloppy wet kiss. I knew that Bethany hated how this felt, but that she was more interested in pleasing Gramma than in standing up for herself. So she'd let Gramma kiss her, and then get anxious every time it was time to visit Gramma.
At first I didn't think it was a significant issue. But as I looked into her future it occurred to me that the sooner Bethany learned to stand up for herself when appropriate, the stronger she would be to set good boundaries for herself as she grew up. So I invented the "not the way it works" game.
The inspiration for the game came from Gramma, who before kissing 5-year-old Bethany would say, "If you love me, you'll give me a big kiss!" See what she did there? Of course Bethany wanted no part of not loving Gramma, so she'd oblige, even though she didn't like the kiss. Imagine how this could play out over time with others - particularly with young men. Not that any young man would ever use that phrase on my precious offspring - but just in case - the "not the way it works" game was born.
It started out simply enough. "Bethany" I'd say from the comfort of my recliner, "If you love me, you'll go get me a blanket." She'd bring the blanket and then I'd say, "Good. Now, if you love me, you'll give me a big kiss!" and I'd pucker up. I could see the discomfort of her tension, wanting to please, but not wanting my spit on her face. Just as she reluctantly turned my way I'd say, "Bethany. It's OK to say no to this if you don't want a kiss because you can love me but not kiss me. So give it a try."
It was hard for her at first, so I kept coaching her, several times a week, to say, "I love you daddy, but that's not the way it works!" I did it with fetching slippers, or scratching my back. Little by little she became more comfortable saying no.