It’s really easy to say “no” as a parent. No, you can’t have candy at bedtime. No, you can’t play video games for another 20 minutes. No, you need to stop kicking your brother. Not saying “no” can end up with having no boundaries and no limits on your kids. Not good.  

But as a parent, I’ve also discovered the power of saying “Yes, and…” 

I first heard of the “yes, and…” concept in improv theater. If you shut down your partner in improv, it ends the bit. You don’t want to go on forever, but it can’t stop after two lines! By saying “yes, and…” literally or metaphorically, you can build off what they say and keep it going. 

As someone who is prone to “um, actually” type corrections and having people think I’m arguing even when I don’t mean to be, I’ve found “yes, and…” to be revolutionary. It allows you to add more information or context without mistakenly denigrating what the other person has said. It can help you provide another perspective without saying theirs is wrong. If you can find one thing you agree with them on (not all of it), it can build a point of connection and a potential bridge. 

And what is parenting except one long improv session? It’s sure as hell not scripted. 

So what does using “yes and…” as a parent look like? 

For us, it often looks like genuinely acknowledging and empathizing with the kid’s situation first. “It does stink to have to turn off your video game. It’s super frustrating to have to stop when you’re enjoying it.” Then you can add additional context onto it that doesn’t dismiss their concern, like, “I’m also really looking forward to playing a board game with you afterwards.”

It can also be used in situations where you’re trying to teach a life lesson without being preachy. You can acknowledge and agree with their observation and then bring it one step deeper. “That’s true,” I might say. “You could also see it this way…” It’s not contradicting them, but expanding on their point.

And of course, appropriate to improv, you can use “yes and” in play with kids. My husband is the master of this. One of the times he charmed me the most was having a pretend one-sided conversation on a cell phone in a restaurant just off the top of his head. He’s the main game-master for our ongoing Dungeons and Dragons game and can come up with whole characters seemingly off the top of his head. (He plans, but he never writes anything down.) When he plays with the kids, he will up the stakes of silliness until they’re reached new heights of absurdity. Want to pretend playing restaurant? He’ll truly act the part of a patron. Want to tell endless bad dad jokes? He’ll go forever. I struggle more with this than he does, but I find thinking of pretend play like an extended improv bit with a chaotic and unpredictable partner can help me refocus. It also helps that my kids have gotten genuinely, purposely funny over the years.

I often don’t think of “yes, and…” as an explicit strategy in the moment. But learning it to the point where it’s become more intuitive has made things a bit smoother and often more fun for me and my family.