What I Learned from Silent "L"

When I was a child, I remember learning how to read. I recall the word "would" showing up on the page. I was a good reader, but it took me FOREVER to learn that word.

As we read in class, I remember my turn to read would come up. Without fail, as I'd hit that word, someone would blurt it out so that I wouldn't have to struggle with sounding it out and take valuable time stumbling over that silent "l." Over and over this happened.

Then, one day, I was sitting at home reading silently to myself. Suddenly, there was a word that held me up. It wasn't a long word, and I knew every letter in it, but I sat there and struggled. I tried to sound it out. I recall slowly sounding each letter out--W-O-U-L-D. I said it out loud, "Would." What word was that? I had never heard a word like that before. I had to have been reading it wrong.

Finally, I figured out that the words around it might help me figure it out. Sure enough. That word was "would!" Pronounced "wood." Got it! It clicked. From that point on, whenever I saw "W-O-U-L-D," I knew that it was pronounced "wood." I never struggled with it again.

You might ask why this is so significant to me now. Why would I even remember something so simple as this? Here is why.....And yes, my explanation will require another little story....

When #1 was about seven, I signed her up for swimming lessons. As she came out of the locker room and headed to the pool, with panic on her face, she shared that she had forgotten her towel.

My first instinct was to tell her to go ahead and go to her lesson. I'd run home and get her towel. I'd be back just in time for the end of the lesson. Something stopped me...."Would" stopped me.

I thought through the scenario....If I "read over it" for her, would she ever learn to "read" it?

Instead of grabbing my car keys and making a run for the parking lot, I chose otherwise. I told her how sad I was that she'd forgotten it, and I wasn't lying. I really WAS sorry. I went and grabbed my seat in the stands and proudly watched my daughter learn a new skill.

At the end of the lesson, #1 came shivering from the pool. She scurried, because "no running" allowed, to the locker room, showered, and clumsily pulled her clothes onto her wet body. Was I sad for her? You'd better believe it. Did I feel guilty because I could have solved her problem? Oh, yes, but again, "would" stopped me.

Sometimes (dare I say often?), teaching our children is painful. Sometimes, just because we are the grown ups and have been there, done that, and have the means to rescue them and thus relieve them (and ourselves) from any amount of discomfort, we feel that that's our duty. 

I was pretty sure that after that, #1"would" never forget her towel again. She had been allowed to have the full experience of "sounding it out" herself. 

Actually, the next week, as we walked through the door to the pool, #1 smiling, proudly, pulled her towel from her bag: "Look, Mom. I brought my towel." I never had to remind her about her towel again. That doesn't mean I didn't have to remind her about other things, but I guess shivering wasn't her idea of a good time, so the towel thing was covered.

I would propose that it is more important for us to use those feelings to react compassionately toward our children. It's in the allowing them to have the full experience. That the true learning takes place.

So, why do these stories pop into my head this morning? Well, as we were heading out the door to school this morning, one of my children started to walk out the front door without shoes or socks on. I noticed, but I said nothing. I knew that within a few steps out onto the deck, he'd figure it out and run back in, but before that experience could teach the lesson, his older brother called out, "SHOES!"

DARN! I guess that lesson will be reserved for another occasion. I "would" think there will be one.

Sadly, though, I do need to add an obvious note here: 

If a child is in mortal danger, for heaven's sake, rescue him/her (Did I really need to add that?). If it is a situation in which the child really can't fix it him/herself (for example, my daughter taking care of her fraud situation while she was heading to the MTC), you will have to step in and take care of things. 

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Double Talk

Sometimes the things I resort to as a mother surprise even me. Let's take today's tactics for instance....

Maybe it's because they've grown unaccustomed to hearing my voice during the day when school is in session, or maybe it's because they've already grown tired of my voice in the couple weeks we've had of summer vacation, but my children (my younger boys, in particular) don't hear anything the first time I say it. EVER....anymore.

Now, I'm not the kind of mom, usually, who knee jerks the consequences I dole out in response to my kids' behaviors. I just don't. As much as possible, the punishment must fit the crime. It must be logical. It must somehow tie to the broken rule. I must admit, I've become fairly creative in tying the two together over the years. I mean, how can you avoid a little creativity when you've set those kinds of ground rules for yourself and you've been doing the same thing for over 19 years--and the end of that tunnel is so far off that it seems nonexistent?

Today, we were driving in the car. I, for the umpteen-millionth time, repeated myself. I swear the first time I speak I must sound like Charlie Brown's teacher. I just MUST.





The second time the defect must clear up because the second time around, there is sometimes some kind of response that shows acknowledgment, but I hate to admit that at times clarification is needed a third and fourth time.

There is always a lag time between the first utterance and the repetition as I stand there waiting in full expectation that there will be some glint of understanding. That's where the frustration begins. I mean, why do I even wait. I already know I'm going to have to say it again. Shoot! Pavlov's dogs learned faster than I do--excuse me while I wipe my chin.

Today, I decided that I was tired of wasting such valuable time, so instead of saying something once and then waiting for a response to see if I needed to repeat myself, I just went ahead and repeated myself right away. I just went head and repeated myself right away.

And you know what? You know what?.....

It WORKED! It WORKED! I mean like a charm. I totally had their attention. Not only that, but they were talking to me in hopes that I would respond....at first.

This carried on for about an hour. This carried on for about an hour. Then, the 13-year-old decided that he'd had enough. So, after he and his brothers promised that they'd answer the first time, I went back to normal. They wanted me to promise that I'd never do that again, but you know what?...

....I didn't promise. I didn't promise.

Tantrum to Tranquility

image: flickr.com

I've shared the fact that one of my children has some anger management issues, right? Well....I believe we're finally on the right track. I thought maybe I wasn't giving him enough attention and in order to deal with his anger, I needed to give him more affection and love and patience. I did. All I got was a lot more anger from him. My heart was getting softer, his was getting harder. I didn't get it.

Like happens so often, a couple weeks ago, I had an a-ha moment. Clearly, what I was doing just wasn't helping. Again, we go back to this:

Thanks, Al!

What I was doing was showing forth a whole lotta love, but the logic was sorely missing. It just didn't

image: tumbler.com

make sense. I was being a doormat...a marshmallow. What I was teaching my son was that he was in charge.

What it all boiled down to was the fact that while I was stressing over him, I was getting nothing done. Things were falling into more and more disorganization. This just wasn't fair. He was sucking away my time AND my energy.

Enough was ENOUGH!

Confession, this morning was so tough that I went up to my room, threw myself onto my knees by my bed and told God that I was DONE. I had my little temper tantrum before the Lord and got back up. I will be honest, though, I was truly wondering how I was going to handle it all. 

As I walked back downstairs, I remembered something I'd used with kids in that past. Suddenly, I had a little trick up my sleeve (a strategy, if you will). I was in charge of the situation and that helped me to regather the peace required. I went at it all surprisingly calmly. 

I realized that I needed to return to the "energy suck" mentality because literally, that's what he was doing. I hadn't had to pull this card on any of my children in so long, I'd forgotten all about it. You know, the old "You're sucking away my energy, and the only way to refill it is to do some of the work I would be doing if I had more energy?" Yah, that one.

In other words, when this child freaks out, a job is required. You'd think this would make the anger worse, but as the jobs pile up, all I have to do is hold up fingers for how many jobs, and he cools right down. What I've really learned, though, is to never let him see me sweat. I have to be as calm and cool as can be, and sometimes, that's SUPER hard. 

The other thing I have discovered, though, is that I have to have some kind of goal to work toward--"These must be done before you can go to bed," "I'm making cookies this afternoon. If you'd like to join in, your jobs will have to be done," etc.

So far, so good. I think the added perk is that when he successfully finishes a job, he truly feels good about himself; thus reducing the anger even more.

It's been a rough morning this morning. We got all the way up to ten jobs, but I guess I should clarify....

It's been a rough morning...for him. For me, once I got off my knees, it's been pretty darned blissful.

Never did I think I'd thank my son for his anger issues, but man, they're really paying off. Life around here is quite a bit more peaceful and things are starting to really shape up.

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Defusing Anger with Kindness

I believe I've mentioned before that Sweetie will sometimes get angry, and it has nothing to do with red dye. The red dye anger goes FAR beyond just being angry. It's aggressive and violent. His usual anger is aggressive, but it is calm-able. Red dye anger escalates out of control. There is no calming it. Sweetie has to let it run its course. At least, that's the point we're at now. Trying to flush it through his system by having him drink a bunch of water may have helped a bit last time, but I can't be sure. We've only tried that once; although, it did seem to shorten the duration of the problem.

When Sweetie is angry, red dye or not, instead of making things better, things are always taken to a worse place. For example, if I ask Sweetie not to do something and he gets mad about it, Sweetie will slam a cupboard or throw something. When I try to correct that behavior, Sweetie'll do something similar again. This will continue each time I try to deal with it.

Sweetie eventually ends up being moved to his bedroom or the backyard.

image: occupycorporatism.com

This morning, it was the backyard. I kept waiting for the police to show up at my door. Seriously, he was freaking out. Wish someone would put me out back sometime and tell me to stay there until I feel like coming in. It's the strangest thing. I walk him to the door and open it. Sweetie starts yelling. I say, "Please go jump on the trampoline and get some of that angry energy out there. Come back in when you're feeling less angry."

Within moments, the back door is being beaten on with whatever can be found. Thank goodness we have super good windows. Sweetie throws things and just really storms.

image: stokeelitetc.com

On a regular day, he'll take himself out there and jump to his heart's content, but when he's forced to against his will, it's like he's been put in a torture chamber. Isn't that just like human nature?

This morning, though, I think I finally found something that just might work in these situations.

image: jartheground.com

Each time Sweetie beat on the door or threw something, I told him he had a kind act to perform before he could come back in. He eventually caught on that the more he beat on the door, the worse things became for him. Sweetie built himself up to nine kind acts this morning. You could almost see the wheels in his brain switching gears. He had to start thinking of how to improve things instead of tearing them down. The great thing was that when he came in, my yard looked great!

I'm grateful for neighbors who trust that I'm still an okay mom even if my son is screaming, "Mom! Let me in!" in the backyard. I promise I'm not beating him. I just need to remove the angry child before someone gets hurt.

I'm doubting this tactic will work with Sweetie on red dye. I'm still trying to figure that one out. For now, he's doing fabulously in turning away from the things he knows he can't have....Thankfully.

I Cannot Be My Mother

My mother did EVERYTHING for us kids. Seriously, everything--laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning, you name it, she did it. Yes, I was VERY spoiled. By the time I left home, I knew how to dust and set a dinner table. Please don't judge my mother by this. She was an only child raising six children. I firmly believe she was doing the best she knew how and those were different times.

Because of that, though, I decided that as a mother I would do things differently. My children would learn how to do for themselves, and for the most part, they have.

This morning started out rough and led me into my mother's life (for the second time). Let me explain....

We, the Warden and I, began with a conversation surrounding the topic of a habit one of our children is adopting that might not bode well for the future. Such is the case with bad habits, right? In discussing this, I explained my opinion that this wasn't something that could be forced. We had to somehow help this child come to the conclusion that this wasn't a good thing and that the child would have to somehow decide to change it. We could not force the change. All we could do was explain and attempt to persuade.

We finished our conversation, and I went to talk to the child. Things were easily understood, and an agreement was peacefully made. Phew! It honestly took about two minutes. But, I also added that if what we had agreed upon didn't work, we would have to come up with something more to take care of the problem. That also was understood. Did I already say "Phew?"

All was seemingly handled, but then it unraveled before my eyes. We walked to the kitchen, and the Warden completely sabotaged my efforts. That child stormed out of the house and walked to school--no breakfast, no lunch in hand, nothing. Ugh!

I'm sure the Warden didn't mean to sabotage me. We hadn't even had a chance to discuss the terms of the treaty I'd pushed for yet. Did I already say "Ugh?"

image: tumblr.com

Add to this picture the fact that when said child walked out the door, I thought all that had happened was that the child had gotten into the car for the customary ride to school. I sent #7 out with a peanut butter sandwich (very like my mom would have done), so that the child, who has sports after school wouldn't collapse while doing said sports.

#7, after a few moments, rang the doorbell, she had accidentally locked herself out. We opened the door, and there she was standing there with her little blonde head against the wall, tears spilling onto the uneaten sandwich. Her words as she sobbed: "[Child]'s not there."This was when I understood how angry the older child really was.

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Let's add to this picture, shall we? Immediately after that car drove away with its occupants, the last remaining children were milling around the kitchen. One of those kids comes to me and says, "We never have breakfast." In other words, we never have sugary cereals anymore.

That was IT! Really? Why is it that no one else around here can do what I do? I mean, that was the idea behind this motherhood thing, right? Teach them to do for themselves? Are they really this helpless?

image: mrbreakfast.com

I walked into the kitchen and showed the breakfast-less child the English muffins, oatmeal and bread. I explained about a dozen things that could be done with those ingredients.

I would like to step back in time for a moment....

Back to this, which was my rebuttal to some really ugly comments on this from March 4, 2011:

image: wakemedvoices.org

I confess

I made my 2nd grader go without lunch today.

My children make their own lunches.  They are given enough lunch money through their accounts at school to buy four lunches or one lunch a week for the month.  This particular child overdraws his account monthly.  It's to the point that the recorded voice from the school district calls and leaves messages daily about his account being overdrawn--they call until it's been paid off.  I only pay on the first of the month, so sometimes we're five days into the month when the calls start in.  He was warned last month that if he overdrew, it would be his last month with lunch money in his account.  So, you can see what happened.

Today, I volunteered in his classroom.  He came to me and told me he'd forgotten his lunch.  I told him I wished he would have told me earlier, so I could have brought it with me when I came to volunteer.  It was then that I found out he hadn't even made one.  His teacher was standing there--sweetest person in the universe.  She told me that he'd forgotten yesterday too.  She explained that she hadn't called because she was pretty sure what I would say.  This teacher is very good friends and a former co-worker with my mother by marriage, so she knows how things roll with the Hesses.  So #5 went hungry at lunch yesterday too.

I have full confidence that he'll start getting this.  Yesterday his teacher gave him some crackers to get him through the afternoon.  I thanked her.  She said she could do that again.  I asked her to please have him do something for her to compensate her for the crackers.  She agreed.

Do I sound like the worst mother in the world?  It all goes back to the idea of feeling entitled.  I don't want any of my children thinking that they can have what they want if they manipulate the system just right.

So, there will be a nice, healthy snack for him when he gets home today.  Like I said, I sure hope he learns this lesson soon.


Have I softened since that time? Maybe, but I don't think so. I am stressed about a child who goes off without breakfast and won't be home until after 5:00 tonight and will be doing sports in the meantime. I, however, wouldn't stress about a child who's had breakfast and misses lunch to come home to a substantial snack and dinner a couple hours later.

But, the child that went off without, set me off.

I decided that I'm tired of being sabotaged. I decided that if I'm the only one who cares, then I will be the only one who works. I will become my mother for awhile and see if there's maybe something I'm missing. I will touch every base. Every child will have a clean room and will be well fed. I will make sure of it ALL. They will wear the clean clothes I picked out for them.

At this point, I've finished four loads of laundry and three loads of dishes, fed seven people breakfast and four people lunch, put dinner in the crockpot, wiped tables and put clean tablecloths on, picked up #7 from preschool, visited the bank and deposited some checks, and welcomed two friends at my door. There is much else to do, and like my mother, I won't sleep tonight until they're done.

image: nairaland.com

I have to confess that doing this for a day makes me feel great love for my family. I now see why my mom did it for us. It was her way of showing selfless love, and in this I find my confusion. In serving them, I feel love for them, but what I've learned from teaching my children to do for themselves is that the greatest thing I've given them is self-esteem. When they are self-reliant, they come to see their own capabilities.

Is one right and the other wrong? I'm not sure, but I tend to think not.

Am I being a martyr? You'd better believe it, but I quickly learned that I can't do it grudgingly for very long. It has wrought a bit of a change on this morning's upset heart.

So, I wonder, will they notice my work and jump in to help? Yah, I doubt it too, but there was a little glimmer of hope this morning.....

#6 got up after all of this had gone down, having afternoon Kindergarten has its benefits. He asked what there was to eat. I told him about the bread, English muffins, and oatmeal. He immediately went for a bowl. He didn't sit around whining, begging me to get him a bowl, or to make it for him.

image: michelleprice.ca

Being in the mode I was, I think he was surprised when I took the bowl from him and poured the oatmeal and again when I took it from him as he was heading for the water and did it for him. I then took it, after he'd pulled it from the microwave and took over the job he was already doing of putting brown sugar in it. I think he was a bit confused as to what was going on. I think he wondered if I somehow found him incapable.

I was grateful to see that his natural tendency, at the age of six, is to do for himself. It isn't in his nature to sit around wondering who's going to serve him. He serves himself.

I have learned that my mom was wonder woman. How did she do this day after day after day?

Yes, I will continue this through today--picking up after everyone, every little thing they put down--but I don't know if I can do it like my mom did. Actually, I know I can't. I know my kids are capable of much more than sitting around, but this little perspective makes me appreciate my mom that much more. It reminds me to love and appreciate my family and all that they do and to overlook all of those things that I have been viewing as sabotage.

Maybe I need to find some balance--somewhere between me and my mom.

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Inappropriate!

Every so often, one of our children will holler, "Mom! [???]'s being inappropriate!" "Inappropriate" covers such a broad range of behaviors that really, anything could be happening.

image: blogs.extension.iastate.edu

Typically, the inappropriate child is called in and reprimanded. A time out may be given or some other logical consequence is administered for the behavior. Because the same complaint keeps coming down the pike, I'm pretty sure that none of that's been working.

image: loveandlogic.com

Since I'm working on my Love & Logic responses, here's what went down yesterday.....

As is frequently the case, down the hallway, I hear, "Mom! [???]'s being inappropriate!" And yes, [???] is almost always the same offender. No, I won't even say "almost," always. It is ALWAYS the same offender.

image: hammiesworld.webs.com

As I called [???] in, the wheels in my brain were turning ferociously--I mean, I had that hamster working overtime. What was I going to do that would be a learning opportunity that would make that child not want to have that consequence happen again? What could I require that would make [???]'s hamster work instead of mine?

As I stood there, it clicked. Here's how it went down.....

Me: Hey! I understand you're having some issues with your brother and being inappropriate.
??? (sheepishly): Yeah.
M: I'm noticing that I'm hearing a lot about you being inappropriate lately.
?: Yeah.
M: What are you going to do about that? To be honest, I'm kind of tired of hearing about it.
?: I don't know.... (I let his wheels spin for a few seconds until I realized that was the only answer I was going to get).
M: Well, I have an idea. Do you want to hear it?
? (a little nervously): Okay.

image: dashrecipes.com

M: I'm thinking you must have a lot of that built up inside you, that it keeps bubbling over like that, huh?
?: Maybe.
M: Okay, here's the idea. The bathroom is the perfect place for inappropriate things. I'm thinking you should have some time to just get all of the inappropriateness out at one time. You can go in there, close the door, and just do and say everything inappropriate that you want to. Hopefully, that will fill your need and it won't bubble over so much in front of others here. What do you think?
?: I don't really want to.
M: No, but I think you need to unless you can come up with something else.... (again, long pause).
?: (silence)
M: Would you like me to get the light for you? Oh, by the way, there's a mirror in there, so any inappropriate actions you want to do, you can show yourself, okay? Perfect! How much time do you think this is going to take? We'll be happy to set a timer for you?

image: philips-shop.co.u

A two minute timer is set, [???] goes in, the light is turned on, the door is shut. I hear the shower door open and close, but that's about it.

We had no more inappropriate complaints for the rest of the day.

Later in the evening, I asked [???] what happened in the bathroom. [???] replied, "Nothing." That may be the case, but I'm thinking the message was received. At least, I hope it was. If not, we'll always have a bathroom.

The Bathroom Floor is Cold

image: pharmaprojects.com

The Warden and I retired at about 9:00 last night. I was beat. He stayed up for awhile checking out some of the videos for the 2013 curriculum for church for the Young Men's program. We decided that we would show one tonight for Family Home Evening. As he showed them to me, I would doze off. Yes, I'm that kind of wife....darn it!

image: biggs-gilmore.com

Each time I'd wake up, I'd hear voices (rather, a voice) down the hallway. It was always #6. He had had a nap earlier in the day, so falling asleep was a bit of a challenge. He shares a room with #4, and I knew with what I was hearing that #4 was not going to be getting any sleep for quite some time if things continued as they were.

I called #6 into the bedroom and explained that I was tired. I also shared that the one thing that was making it impossible to sleep was his voice that I could hear down the hallway. I told him this just wasn't going to work. He said he was talking to #4. I told him that I needed, for his safety, to keep him on the same floor of the house as me but were there other options of places upstairs where he could sleep.

image: blogsolid.com

We discussed the laundry room, the bathroom, and the hallway. We discussed the pros and cons of each area, and he finally decided on the laundry room. He asked if he could use some extra blankets, and I gave him the thumbs up. He, very maturely--actually, this entire conversation was very mature--took the blankets and set about setting up a little nest for himself in the laundry room. He quickly learned, though, that the dog was asleep in one of the baskets of dirty laundry, and right now, the dog doesn't smell very good--long story. I HAVE to bathe her today. Needless to say, the laundry room quickly ceased to be an option.

image: homedit.com

Because of the fear of being trampled by some wild needing-to-go-to-the-bathroom-in-the-middle-of-the-night sibling, the hallway also was no longer a choice. That left the bathroom as the final option--at least a child would find a light switch before he/she found him lying there. The bedroom was never taken away as a possibility as long as he was willing to go in, lay down, and be silent, but I think #6 felt that being given a choice was fun, so a choice other than the obvious was what he was going to make. Either that, or the idea of being silent was so distasteful that ANYTHING else would be better.

image: embeshop.com

He laid out his blankets, hollered "g'night" to us, and I fell peacefully back to sleep and remained that way until quite early this morning.

When I got up for the day, I went down the hallway and threw in a load of laundry. I peeked across the hall into the bathroom and found one blanket and a pillow on the floor but no boy. I walked down the hallway, and there he was, snoozing soundly in his bed.

image: soundtileinstallation.com

A few hours later, #6 woke and came into our bedroom. The Warden shared that shortly after I'd fallen asleep, #6 had returned to tell the Warden that he was heading to his bed. #6 added, "The bathroom floor is hard and cold."

Gotta love those natural consequences!

Magic Words for Moms

image credit: www.lastmom.com

We all know "please," and "thank you" are magic words for kids. I figure they're my payment for doing things around here. If I don't hear those words, I don't move.

But...do you know the magic words for moms? As I was getting breakfast ready for #7 this morning, I noticed that there are certain phrases I use with my kids that work some great magic around here. These words and phrases have been tested on seven children. So far, so good. Here they are for your perusal....

image credit: es.dreamstime.com

1. "while"
This morning I was getting the cereal out of the cupboard. #7 was standing there next to me, but I noticed that her blanket was laying on the kitchen floor. I said, "Hey, while I'm pouring this cereal for you, will you please go put your blanket up in your room?" She took off running, blanket in hand, and put it away. She returned as I was getting the milk out, so I tried it again, "While I'm pouring this milk for you, would you please go put this toy in the toy closet." Again, off she went.

This is a great tool for getting two things done at once. I figure each time my kids ask for me to do something, I can have them do something in return. It's good for them to know that family means helping each other.

2. "as soon as"
#7 hates sitting in the chair with the tray, but if she didn't, we'd end up with a thousand and a half spills in this house. She almost always puts herself at the table where everyone else eats. This morning was no exception. I walked in with her newly poured cereal and saw her sitting at the table, so I said, "As soon as you're in your chair, you can have your cereal." She protested. Would you expect anything else? I mean, really? I stood there holding the bowl of cereal and waited patiently. It took a few moments, but next thing I knew, there she was climbing into her chair.

image credit: www.thinkgeek.com

3. "or"

When she climbed into her chair, she had a large board book in her hands. One of the rules at our house is that no books are allowed at the table. She put the book on top of her tray (leaving no room for the bowl of cereal), so I went to remove it. She argued that she wanted it. I stood there and reminded her of the "no book" rule. I held the book in one hand and the cereal in another then I offered "Would you like the book or the cereal." She had to ponder it for a few moments. She chose the cereal. The book went on the table to wait for her to finish.

Okay, so #4 isn't a word. I cheated.

4. silence
When #7 blatantly ignores or breaks a rule, I don't say anything. I take her by the hand, as calmly as possible and help her to do or undo what she's done.

What I'm learning is that sometimes I have a tough time keeping my mouth shut. When my older kids misbehave, I just want to talk it out and make sure they understand, but I'm learning that when a logical consequence is applied, I have to just be quiet and let the kids' brains do the work. When things are calm, that's the time to talk. I think, having as poor a memory as I do, I just want to talk it out before I forget. Maybe I need to take notes.

Anyway, there you have it....How some of our potentially ugly situations are defused in the Madhouse. So easy and simply...magical!

Trying to Teach My Children Not to Count

Why do we count? 1-2-3-4-5....
I've even, to mix things up a bit, gotten so I count backward...10-9-8.... You get the idea.
And then there's the "Next time you do that,..." you know, there's gonna be heck to pay. Or some such, and really, how many times do you threaten that before they actually stop doing whatever annoying or awful thing they're doing? Or how many times do they do that thing before you just give up, let them win, and stop threatening?
I think I've even gotten so I pretend something didn't happen just so I could sit on my lazy derriere and not have to do something about it.

I write this post as a mother who has gotten old and lazy. For any who have wondered, yes, this is what's happened to my children. They have a mother who counts and avoids. I even give...don't be shocked...second chances. EEK!!!  I know, run for cover!

With one child it was EASY! I was younger then and full of energy. I would see her do something that was not okay, and I'd jump up and handle it--time out, logical consequences.....Whatever seemed prudent at the time.
Yes, with one child, I was spot on a good part of the time.
People would say, "You have to choose your battles," but of course, in my mind, I already had, and I was on top of all of them.
I don't mean to sound cocky here, but I ROCKED as a mom to one. At least, I did to my one. She and I were in sync. We understood one another, and we got along swimmingly. We still do.
Then what happened?....

When #2 came along, it became a little trickier, so I tried to find distractions for #1 while I was nursing #2 or changing #2's diaper. I did a lot of trouble shooting trying to anticipate just how she would respond in certain situations. That's how these ideas came to be. As each new child came along, I wanted to avoid misbehavior by the older children while I was interacting with and attempting to meet the needs of the youngest. It takes a lot of understanding of what makes each child tick to pull this off successfully. Sometimes I succeeded, and sometimes, I failed.

I found that there were many, many instances in which I couldn't just jump up and administer my usual logical consequence for a behavior. I started losing too many of the battles. Then, over time, I just decided that, yes, people were right, I DID need to choose my battles wisely. I was greatly outnumbered, and each child had a different personality and needed to be parented in his/her own way. What worked for one did not work for all. Again...running for cover!

I learned from Jim Fay years and years ago, that children are not to have second chances. You watch them screw up the first time, you get involved and straighten it out the first time. You don't warn. You don't threaten. You simply take Johnny by the hand and give him a logical consequence or redirect the behavior--teach the appropriate way something should be done. I would even go so far as to say that Jim Fay's way is not full of words, it's full of action. You don't lecture, you teach what to DO.  Even after a time out, you don't rehash what's gone wrong. You see the time out through to the end, let the child up, give him/her a kiss and a hug (they are forgiven) and they're off and running again--nothing said. If the same behavior is done again, the same reaction occurs.

Some of my children learned very quickly. #1 was a VERY fast learner. She would make a mistake only once. Others learn slower. I am convinced that this is the case because of how consistent I've been in my discipline.

Here's an example....One of the rules in our house is that you are only allowed to play in the backyard. It doesn't take much for a child to wander around to the front yard, but it is forbidden. When a child is found out on the front sidewalk, the logical consequence is that that's the end of their play time outside. They are confined to the house from that point on.

Another example....If a younger child is napping and an older child does something to wake the napper, the waker quickly becomes the napper. At our house, we call it "finishing the nap."

As you can see with either of these, it would be so much easier to just let them go and let the child return to whatever he/she was doing. I often think of discipline like teaching a child language. If I were to see the color red and every time I saw it, I called it something different (crimson, scarlet, etc.), would the child ever really know that it was really called red? I have to be consistent when I teach language. I also need to be consistent when I teach discipline. The more consistent, the faster they learn appropriate behavior, and the fewer mistakes they make.

Maybe you can see why I've become a counter after reading all of this. Numerous times, I have told a child that if found him/her out front he/she will be staying in for the day, only to turn around, while dealing with another child, to have that one sneak back out. Ugh! This just leads to further logical consequences. It's VERY tricky.

I have to say that even though I've gotten lazy, I TOTALLY believe in this one chance rule. It leaves nothing to the child's imagination. The child knows he/she can trust the parent to do what he/she says he/she's going to. It leaves little room for the child to test the parent. Most importantly, it nips bad behavior in the bud early on.

As you noticed from this previous post, we decided that the time has come to return to the one chance rule at our house. Jim Fay would propose that you not choose to make the logical consequence something that punishes you as well, but to be honest, that's difficult to do. The great thing is there are many ways to turn the logical consequence into a win for yourself. I speak of the "energy drain"--a payback that will become the topic of a future post.

So, maybe my children won't know how to count forward and backward adeptly by the time they hit two and half because I've modeled it for them daily, but they will know to play safely out back, to ride in the car and not be "gross," and to not wake the sleeping baby. I also believe that when they get into school, I would much rather have them be able to know how to behave.

Who Cares?: Where My Mom Went Oh So Right

"Someone has wisely stated that hate is not the opposite of love. Apathy is. We will not have time for apathy in life’s journey if we speak and think positively"  (Marvin J. Ashton).



I've really wondered all these years just what made my mom successful as a mother.  To me, she was the quintessential example of what motherhood should be.

A number of years ago, after making one of our trips to the cemetery to leave flowers on her grave, I realized that many of my mom's grandchildren would never know her.  That was one of the saddest things about letting her go back in March of 1999.  After returning from the cemetery that Memorial Day, I decided to set up a private Facebook page so my family members who knew her could jot down their memories of her.  As my siblings, older nieces and nephews and I leave memories, all of the family members can go there and look at each others' memories of the wonderful things she did.

I want to share one that I wrote yesterday:

"Once, in high school, I asked a kid to drive me home; I don't think school had even started for the day. When I walked in the house, Mom wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"She came in later and was surprised to find me sitting on the bed in her room watching T.V. She asked what I was doing at home, and I told her the details that had brought me there. She said, 'Great, you can go to work with me.'

"She was heading all the way down to Salem that day.

"We stopped at Shari's for lunch. On our way out of the parking lot, the rear of Mom's car was sticking out a bit. An older lady, who was about to turn in, shot Mom a dirty look. I reached behind Mom's headrest and flipped the lady the bird. The next thing Mom saw was the woman's expression change to one of shock.

"Mom turned to me and said, 'You did something. What did you do?'

"'I flipped her off,' I responded rather sheepishly knowing how disappointed she'd be in me. 

"Her response absolutely shocked me. 'Good for you!'"


That was my mom.   Anyone who knew her would say she was one of the most gentile, soft-spoken, sweet women they'd ever met.  She was.  I take after my dad.


As I got to thinking about her after writing that and through a few experiences I've been having lately, I'm beginning to realize now what makes her amazing in my memory.  She cared.  No...she cared passionately...about her kids.

In the situation above, she knew there was nothing she could do about what had been done.  I was a good kid.  This was an isolated incident.  She could have sat and lectured me, but what would that have done to our relationship.  Would that have built me up?  Would that have made her my ally?  

Let me tell you, though, after that experience, we laughed for the rest of the day.  We were equals and friends.


She didn't Love and Logic us.  Not at all.  Do I wish she had?  Yes, I wish I 'd been taught to take responsibility for my choices.  I think I wouldn't have had so much catching up to do as an adult.  However, I think there's an aspect of my mom that needs to be tempered with the logic portion of Love and Logic.  My mom knew how to love like no one I've ever met.

Mom didn't sweat the small stuff.  She cheered for us.  She let us know where she stood--not with lecturing but just out of who she was and how she lived.  We all knew, and none of us wanted to let her down.  As far as I know, we all still strive for that--to make our mom proud.


Yesterday, I had an experience that has brought me to this conclusion about my mom.  In giving my children choices, there are times when they fail.  There are times when life is heavy.  Although I've given them the right to choose their own path, once they've set out in that direction (whatever direction that may be), my job is to show them undying love.


I have a child who is suffering right now because of some choices that (s)he made.  I'm finding that I also have a choice here at this point.  I can sit back and apathetically say, "Ah well.  (S)he made his/her bed, and now he/she gets to lie in it," or I can stop what I'm doing and take the time for that child to coach him/her get back on the best possible path.  My job is not to force that kid.  I have the opportunity to solidify, in that child's mind, my love for him/her.


Yesterday at church, this child approached me and said he/she was going to walk home.  I recognized this as a cry for help.  So, what do you do?  Do you say, "Hey, go ahead.  I'll talk to you later," or do you leave the responsibility you have--I am Primary president in my ward--throw everything on someone else's shoulders and answer the cry?


This, I recognized, was a ninety and nine situation.  I had no choice.  It was time to walk in my mother's shoes for a few minutes.  I went with the child and we talked and cried together until there was some amount of resolution and a plan to get onto a better path.


So, this morning, my mind goes to apathy.  I have a another situation in my life in which I've been invited to do something.  As I've shared some honest misgivings about this thing, there has been a bit of apathy in return.  I can't tell if I'm just being asked to do this because the other person feels obligated to invite me--out of duty--or if it really is important but this person wants to give me my agency.  I guess in a situation like this my mom would've said, "I'd really like you to do this," and I would've jumped as high or higher than she expected.  I knew it meant a lot to her.  I wish, in this case, I knew.  It would be so much easier to do the right thing.


I'm learning that my kids need to know how I feel about things.  Giving them choices doesn't mean that I give them a choice and then sit back apathetically when they choose what I didn't want them to.  If this is a big decision, it's giving them a choice, sharing the possible outcomes (Jim Fay would probably disagree with this), and letting them choose what they want the outcome to be.  Help them look to the end result.  Then, once they've made their choice (even if it's not the one I would have chosen for them), love them through it.

I'm so grateful for a wonderful, sweet mother who continues to teach me even after she's gone.  This is where she went so right.  Five out of six kids served missions.  All married in the temple.  All still going strong.  All because our mom cared.