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Things Not to Say to Your Kids. When I think about all of the phrases, anecdotes, and sayings about the power of the spoken word I am reminded of how I changed my way of communicating with children upon learning Play Therapy principles. I realize that using Play Therapy based language is a learned and practiced skill that requires time and effort, so I thought it would be helpful to share ten commonly used phrases parents say to their kids. I will also give the Play Therapy based alternative with a short explanation of why it is more effective. No (running, hitting, yelling, fill in the verb)! Kids hear the word “no” far too frequently (Read more about that here).

You can always rephrase the sentence from a negative to a positive, which will correct the behavior without sounding critical. Train yourself to say what you want them to do instead of what you don’t. So, you can say “Walk, please” instead of “No running”. Good job! I have spent a good deal of time on articles on the difference between Praise vs. Encouragement, and this phrase is arguably the most commonly spoken praise children hear. Train yourself to respond with “You did it!” or “You got it!” or “You figured it out!”.

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Serial opowiada o losach zespołu śledczego rządowej agencji NCIS, który prowadzi dochodzenia związane z przestępstwami w Marynarce Wojennej i Korpusie Marines. Too Many Tv Commercials – What Is The Cause. If you watch television, you have surely noticed that there are just too many tv commercials. The tv commercials are. Lawless euro union was created in a illegal lawless coup d etat - and this unlawfull stalinist terror-torture unit will collapse with a fucking big bang. When I think about all of the phrases, anecdotes, and sayings about the power of the spoken word I am reminded of how I changed my way of communicating with children.

Notice the common element is starting with the word “you” and then acknowledging what they worked at, rather than what you think about it. Don’t argue with me. Children are programmed to question, analyze and wonder about situations. This can sometimes present itself in an argumentative manner, but this is actually a normal part of development. Instead of cutting off the conversation, you can say, “I know you want my answer to be different, but it will not change”. You can also train yourself to make sure the child fully understands your response, with “I just told you my answer. Do you have a question about it?” This allows the child to present their opinion or get clarification.

Either way, the child is allowed to express their thoughts or concerns and feel validated without an argument. Wait until your Dad/Mom/other person finds out about this. This does two things. First, it creates anxiety and fear in the child, especially of the person who you are going to tell about whatever happened. Second, it ignores your responsibility to deal with the issue at hand and passes it to someone else. By the time a child has gotten in trouble for something, they already feel guilty, sorry and embarrassed about it.

Threatening to tell someone else rubs salt in the wound. Choose whether the other person really needs to know about the issue, and if yes, let the child decide who will tell them. Do you choose to tell (Mom) what happened, or choose for me to tell her with you there to make sure that I explain it correctly?” This gives the child respect and responsibility for their actions. If you do that one more time…I can’t tell you the number of times I hear that phrase when around other parents, even though it is highly ineffective. First, you are threatening a child, which makes them fearful of you. Second, the threat is usually not something that is feasible to do (we are going home, you are going straight to bed, you don’t get dinner, you are grounded for a week, etc.) What we say in frustration is not only impractical but easily forgettable.

Then we contradict our credibility. You can train yourself to be clear and concise, using choices. If you choose to (continue that behavior), you choose to (receive whatever consequence has already been established as a punishment)”. You might say, “Erin, if you choose to poke your sister again, you choose to not watch TV for the rest of the day”.

This clearly communicates the expectation and the consequence, without a threat. You are doing that the wrong way.

Parents tend to want control all of the time, and it takes work to allow kids to have freedom to do what they choose. Of course, there will be times when a task must be completed in a certain fashion (homework, etc.). However, many times we force kids to do something the “right way”, when it could have been done in several ways. If a child is coloring the grass purple, it is easy to tell them it must be green. A kid can sit down on a chair facing the back, and we make them turn around.

Train yourself to acknowledge their behavior without a judgment, such as “You chose to sit the other way on the chair” or “You colored the grass purple instead”. This gives them the freedom to be creative and discover things without expectations.

That is what happens when you… We often try to teach lesson to kids about life at the most inappropriate times. If a child gets hurt because they were doing something dangerous or inappropriate, they already learned their lesson. It is wasted words to try to express a rule when a child is upset, as they focus on one thing at a time. Instead, train yourself to say, “You realized that you jumped off the chair and got hurt when you landed on the ground”, rather than, “See, that is what happens when you jump off the chair”. The former acknowledges that the child already figured out the problem, but is still comforting. You can’t/Don’t do that. When redirecting behavior, it is difficult to know how to phrase things in the best manner.

Telling a child that they can’t do something makes them prove that they can, by telling you or showing you that it is in fact possible. Telling a kid to not do something makes them want to argue or rebel. Train yourself to explain the reason behind your statement. That is not safe” or “Your skin is not for coloring on” is specific and helps them learn why things are off limits, rather than just that they are. We are (whatever the child doesn’t want to do at that moment), OKAY?

In an attempt to be kind and loving to children, parents tend to ask kids for their approval. I understand the rationale behind it, but I believe it becomes a habit when trying to convince a child to comply.

Parents will often say, “We are leaving the playground now and we’ll come back again, okay?” The reality is that asking your child if it is okay sets you up for an argument when the child says no. You already know that he doesn’t want to leave, or you wouldn’t be negotiating with him. Train yourself to state things in sentence form, while acknowledging the child’s feelings.

Kevin, I know you want to stay and play, but it is time to go. We can come back another day”. This helps the child feel understood, but still communicates that leaving is non- negotiable. You are making me really mad right now. When I was a child and fought with my younger brother, I would complain to my mom that he made me mad about something.

She would (and still does) respond with “No one can make you feel anything. You choose to get mad.” At the time, I hated that phrase.

However, it is very true. Parents tend to let their children control their emotions, when it is the parent who is ultimately responsible for how they feel.

It is also important for kids to understand that they choose what they feel, and they are not creating emotions in you. Train yourself to say, “I need a break right now because I am getting upset” or “I am angry right now”. You can communicate your feelings to your children without placing the burden of cause on them. Retraining your way of speaking will take time and energy, but can be done. I would encourage you to do it one step at a time, and feel proud when you hear yourself respond differently.

It will not happen overnight, as I liken it to learning a new language, but it can happen with practice! Please share this post.

STARTRACK. COM : : FILM : : FOTO : : MUSIC : : SCENE : : STARS ===LITERATUREGEORGE ORWELL: Nineteen Eighty- Four. IIt was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.

The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty- five, with a heavy black moustache and ruggedly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs.

It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty- nine and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way. On each landing, opposite the lift- shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move.

BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran. Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig- iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right- hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely.

He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor blades and the cold of the winter that had just ended. Outside, even through the shut window- pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio'd face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house- front immediately opposite.

BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston's own. Down at streetlevel another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSOC. In the far distance a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people's windows.

The patrols did not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind Winston's back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig- iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three- Year Plan.

The telescreen received and transmitted simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vision which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork.

It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live - - did live, from habit that became instinct - - in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized. Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape.

This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste - - this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth- century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow- herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken- houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The Ministry of Truth - - Minitrue, in Newspeak* - - was startlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 3.

From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACEFREEDOM IS SLAVERYIGNORANCE IS STRENGTHThe Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order.

And the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one.

There were no windows in it at all. Winston had never been inside the Ministry of Love, nor within half a kilometre of it.

It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed- wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine- gun nests. Even the streets leading up to its outer barriers were roamed by gorilla- faced guards in black uniforms, armed with jointed truncheons.

Winston turned round abruptly. He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advisable to wear when facing the telescreen. He crossed the room into the tiny kitchen. By leaving the Ministry at this time of day he had sacrificed his lunch in the canteen, and he was aware that there was no food in the kitchen except a hunk of dark- coloured bread which had got to be saved for tomorrow's breakfast. He took down from the shelf a bottle of colourless liquid with a plain white label marked VICTORY GIN. It gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of Chinese rice- spirit.

Winston poured out nearly a teacupful, nerved himself for a shock, and gulped it down like a dose of medicine. Instantly his face turned scarlet and the water ran out of his eyes. The Final Season Full Movie In English. The stuff was like nitric acid, and moreover, in swallowing it one had the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber club.

The next moment, however, the burning in his belly died down and the world began to look more cheerful.