The power of ‘no’
By Michelle Martin
Whatever I am, don’t call me a yes-woman.
It took until my children reached a certain age for me to learn the power of no. I have to say, I think they learned it sooner.
No, Frank, don’t put things in your ears. No, Frank, don’t stand on cardboard boxes. No, Frank, we’re not going to McDonald’s today.
That’s it: No. No justifying, no explanations, no hemming, no hawing. Just no.
And if that isn’t enough, “The answer is no. So stop asking.”
When I was a child, I didn’t want to hear no any more than anyone else. When I first had my children, I never really thought about saying no to them. I always believed in saying yes whenever possible—a plan I thought would make those two little letters very rare.
I was wrong.
I still do believe in saying yes, if not as often as possible, at least as often as is practical. But to be honest, I could give in to my kids’ demands more often than I’m inclined to do. Could we go to McDonald’s today? Well, yes. There are so many of them, so conveniently located, and the food is so well designed to fit children’s tastes (if not their nutritional needs). The price is low enough that it seems affordable on any given day—even though it costs a lot more than cooking and eating at home.
So the answer for today is no.
Can Caroline, age 7, go see “The Chronicles of Narnia”? After all, some of her classmates have. Well, no.
Her classmates who have seen it may have liked it or they may have been scared by the battle scenes. They may have more experience with movies, or be less sensitive to the images on the screens. But for Caroline I think it would be too much.
But all of that is too much to say by way of explanation. It offers too much room for negotiation. And adding, “If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?”—the first thought that comes to mind when she says “But so-and-so’s mother let her do it”—just isn’t helpful.
Other issues are more cut and dried, what with matters of safety involved.
The wonderful thing is, learning to say no helps in so many areas. Do I want to buy new siding? No. Can I do something that means I won’t be home to put the kids to bed for a third night in a row? No.
Of course, I am willing to explain my reasons—usually—but I’m not willing to debate them. The closest I come is when I ask the kids to remind me who is in charge. The only right answer? “You and daddy.”
Because they need to know that sometimes, they don’t need to understand all the reasons. Sometimes they need to trust that we know better, that even if they don’t understand, there is a method to what they think is our madness.
It’s the same way with prayers, I tell them. We can ask God for whatever we want when we pray. Sometimes we get what we asked for; sometimes we don’t. Not getting something doesn’t mean our prayers weren’t answered. It just means that sometimes the answer is no. For that, we should be grateful.
Michelle Martin is a Catholic New World staff writer.
