Listening, especially when it doesn't make sense

My boys talk a lot. Constantly. We are working on not interrupting, but it is common for them both to be talking to me at the same time. When Jack has to wait his turn, sometimes he face palms and whines. He does wait, though. And sometimes Eliot runs into a room and starts telling a story without first gauging to see if someone else is speaking.

I'm all about teaching them when it is appropriate to speak. And sometimes it can be draining to listen to all of the little inconsequential details, but I know that listening intently to my sons speak is incredibly important for both now and later.

Jack attends speech therapy for an articulation disorder. He was slower to begin talking and has had trouble speaking. When Jack speaks, I must pay close attention and listen. Sometimes I don't know all the words he is saying, so I try to pick out words I do understand and help follow his narrative from context clues. It can be hard to fill in the blanks, especially when it is all day, but it is important. It is important that he feels that he has a voice. It is important so that he keeps trying.

When Eliot gets off the bus in the afternoon, I want to hound him with questions. I want him to know that I care--and I have missed him so much! A lot of times, though, he isn't interested in recounting the ho-hum of the day. So, I ask questions, but follow his lead and give him space. He wants to get home, eat a snack, and play with his brother. As he eats his snack, though, he'll start opening up to me and tell me about things on his mind. I have learned where his boundaries stand, and I need to respect them. It is important that I remain available.

I want to support my boys, but I have learned that sometimes offering support comes more in the form of listening than giving advice. Last week after basketball practice, Eliot walked over to me with his water bottle in hand and I could see frustration all over his face. "I didn't like that practice," he said. I told him it was OK, that we'd get to the car, and I wanted to hear everything he had to say--I told him that I wouldn't speak until he was done talking. Practice had been fine--no one was mean to him--but I knew he needed to vent and didn't need me to interrupt him to tell him that he was wrong. It is important that I let my sons know that they are heard and their thoughts are valid.

I am lucky in that my boys tell me everything. They tell me about the levels on their video games, the toys they want, things they want to do, how their tummies feel, and so much more. It can be difficult to keep up at times, but I try to show that I am listening (and not playing on my phone) whenever they need to speak. And then sometimes they tell me very important things, like things they are afraid of, worries about school, frustration, hurt feelings, or a friend who was talking about self-harm (which I reported to the teacher).

This openness about trivial things turns into openness about bigger things. I work to establish my availability, concern, and interest today so when life grows more complicated when they get older, they know I'm always here to listen for as long as they want to speak.