Staying The Course

Have you ever punished a child only to forget a day or two later that you did it? It seems like this has been happening to me more and more lately. Unfortunately, I have a couple teenagers who, once in a while, will take advantage of the fact that I forget. Sometimes on purpose, but other times because they've forgotten too.

Last week I grounded my #2 son from the computer for a week. A couple of days later he comes up to me and says, "Mom can I get on the computer? I have all my chores done." I give my permission and go on about my business. A good deal of time passes and I notice that he's still sitting at the computer doing his thing. I politely tell him he needs to shut it down and get busy with other things. He says, "OK." Again, I walk away to continue my business. Several minutes go by, and just as I suspect, there he is still planted firmly in front of the PC. All of a sudden the light bulb goes off in my head and I remember that I had grounded him two days before precisely because he wouldn't get off the computer when I asked him to.

At this point I'm clearly upset. Firstly, at myself, for not remembering that I punished him. Secondly, because he asked my permission. And thirdly, because this seems to be a repeated offense with him. (Not doing what he's asked when he's asked). It was then that I decided that I needed to write his punishment on the calendar so that I wouldn't forget.

This boy has not given up trying to get me to shorten his punishment though. Every once in a while he will approach me to see if he can use the computer to work on this project or that project, but so far, I've stood firm and have even had to go so far as to include an addendum. I told him that for every time he asks to use the PC, an extra day will be tacked on to his sentence. So far, so good.

A No-Stress Approach to Kid's Chores

I recently started receiving a free marriage and family magazine by Focus on the Family. This morning I couldn't sleep and got up earlier than usual. I hadn't had a chance to read the magazine yet so took a bit of time to look it over before I started my morning devotion. I wanted to share with you this particular article. Perhaps you'll have the need to use Heather's creative idea some day. But hopefully not. Happy Parenting!


YOUR CHORES OR MINE?
by Heather Trent Beers

I'm amazed how two empty trash cans left by the driveway can transform me from Mother of Year to a raging inferno in two seconds flat.

One morning, I entered my 15-year-old son's room. "Jacob," I said. I waited for eye contact.

Yes, Mom?" His eyes darted between the screen and my face.
I'm heading out on an errand. Please bring the trash cans in before I get home in an hour."

"Uh-huh."

Now, I've learned two things about Jacob. First, I must say his name and make eye contact. Second, I need to make him repeat what I've said. Both are helpful in the "But I Didn't Hear You" battle.

"What will you do?"

"Bring in the trash cans."

"When?"

"Before you get home."

"Which will be when?"

"In one hour."

"Good. See you in an hour."

I left with a spring in my step. He's growing into a responsible young man. An hour later when I came home, however, the cans were still at the end of the driveway. Goodbye, June Cleaver. Hello, Mommy Dearest. I fumed as I pulled into the garage.

"Why do I even bother?" I stomped to the end of the driveway, jerked the cans off the ground and wheeled them to the garage. My blood pressure soared, and my heart thumped wildly.

I knew Jacob needed a consequence for his inaction, but all I could think about were the chores that awaited me, and here I was doing his simple chore on top of it! Suddenly, I smiled. If I'm doing his chores, he can do mine. The simple brilliance of the plan filled me with hope. I whispered fervently, "God, please let this work!"

Upstairs, I stopped by my son's room. "Hi, Jacob!" I was pleased with my friendly tone. "Hi, Mom!" He flashed a quick smile and continued his game. "You left the trash cans at the curb, so I brought them in." "Oh... I'm sorry," he said, grimacing. He looked at me, but his fingers continued tapping. In the past, I would have made a smart remark like " 'Sorry' doesn't change things." This time I said, "That's all right. You can do one of my chores. The laundry needs folding." Jacob froze. He knew he'd been had, and it was fair and square.

While he hung shirts and folded socks, I read a few pages of a novel. I thought about what just happened. Bringing in trash cans: One minute. Folding laundry: Six minutes. Five extra minutes reading with my feet propped up. I could get used to this.

I whispered a prayer of thanks.

Two days later, I asked 9-year-old Rebekah to put her shoes away before lunch. I went through the "Say Her Name and Maker Her Repeat My Instructions" deal. She passed with flying colors. Lunch came and went, but the shoes didn't. So I put them away myself, without saying a word or sighing like a martyr. I was planning my next five-minute escape.

After lunch, I said, "Rebekah, you didn't put your shoes away, so I did it." "Oh, I'm sorry, Mom," came the usual reply.

"That's OK. I need to vacuum the den, so you can do that for me." Rebekah looked as if I'd slapped her. "That's not fair!" she wailed, eyes wide with shock. "Well, it's certainly not fair for me to do my chores and yours. Since I did yours, you can do one of mine." Her face fell. She hates vacuuming, so she didn't do it with the best attitude. But it was done, and I got my five-minute reading date.

Over the next several days, I assembled my to-do list with glee, calculating how many chapters I might finish if all went well. I asked the kids to help more, and they did with improved attitudes. I started to feel less like the Lone Ranger and more like Mom.

Heather Trent Beers lives in Grandview, Mo., where she is giggling her way through her latest read.

Resource: family.org
Picture by: Jupiter Images