The Search For Order

(Bye, Summer!)

Blogging is like exercising. Some months I’m totally on the ball, spinning several times a week, walking the hills around my neighborhood, generally making an effort. Other months, I feel pretty good if I carry a load of laundry from one end of the house to the other (phew! Hard work! I think I need a snack!). So look what happened: I decided to focus my attention on maybe learning a bit about the new subject I’m teaching this fall (gulp) and had a brief blogging hiatus. Then a week turned into two, into three. I admit that I’m a flabby writer now, and I need to recommit.

Another obstacle to blogging has been that my kids are driving me crazy. I thought I could just hunker down and wait out this spell of annoying behavior. All you parents out there know how that goes. You wring and wring and wring your hands about the (fill in the blank: waking up at night; fear of the bathtub; biting; burping; not napping; napping too much; eating too much; eating too little; unwillingness to do the age-appropriate thing you want them to do….), and then, one day, it’s suddenly not a problem anymore. The reasons for the change are as unclear as the reasons for the problem in the first place.

The issues in question are what I would classify as sibling stuff. And I don’t have a sibling. I never had to fight over the front seat. I never had to share my toys. I never had to take turns. I never had to hear my mother say, “I can’t help you build a waterproof movie projector out of toothpicks right now because I’m busy helping your brother make a walkie-talkie out of bubble gum wrappers and rubber bands.”

So part of my difficulty dealing with sibling stuff is that I don’t know exactly how it feels to constantly have to WAIT to get what I want. And I certainly don’t know how it feels to watch Curious George while my clone of a brother kicks me in the head with his tremendously smelly feet.

But still, we’ve had more than our fair share of smacking and hitting and whining and screaming and floods in the bathroom and general badness. Last week, after one particularly horrendous battle over getting dressed for school, I called Michael at the office and bellowed, “WE NEED TO HAVE A FAMILY MEETING!!!!”

And he said, “I’m actually in a work meeting right now. Can I call you back?”

And then I shrieked, “NO! DON’T YOU THINK THAT THE FACT THAT I WANT TO SKEWER YOUR OFFSPRING WITH THEIR TOY LIGHTSABERS SUGGESTS THAT THERE’S AN EMERGENCY WE NEED TO TAKE CARE OF?”

That night, Michael and I sat down to make a new behavior incentive plan. Here’s how it went:

Me: We need to break the day down into sections and tie rewards to specific behaviors!

Michael: We need four sections. Let’s list the jobs tied with each section and their associated behaviors.

Me: OK, Morning. Job #1: Eat cereal without gargling or spitting.

Michael: But isn't "eating cereal" the job, while gargling and spitting are behaviors?

Me: Whatever. But do you think we need to turn “no gargling” into a positive? Like, the associated behavior is “using table manners?”

Michael: Terrific. Now let’s turn to getting dressed.

Me: Job #1: Change into clean underpants. Associated Behavior: No throwing brother’s dirty underpants behind the dresser. Behavior translated into a positive: Treat brother’s underpants as you would treat your own.

This went on for some time. My eyes began to droop. “Uh, Michael?” I asked. “Do you think that the fact that we just wrote a 300 page behavior manual, complete with footnotes and appendices, means that this new plan isn’t going to work?”

Michael paused. He said, “I think we need to have the kids brainstorm the rules.”

So, like CEOs who are trying to be hip, we sat the kids down to come up with all the rules that we already decided to implement. Michael became the group facilitator. Right away, Green said, “I think we need to make a change to the system. I think we need to get a toy every week for our good behavior.”

Michael said diplomatically, “Thanks for that suggestion, Green. But let’s focus on what you think our house rules should be.”

Blue said, “Daddy, did you know that emperor penguins can weigh up to 88 pounds?”

Michael said, “That’s wonderful, Blue. But let’s see if we can think about what kinds of things will help us get along in the mornings.”

Green said, “I think that getting a toy every week will help me get along!”

I sighed and said, “Why don’t you tell me about your class rules.”

Green sat up straight. He said, “Respect others and property.”

“Terrific!” I exclaimed. “What might respecting others mean at home?”

He thought a minute, then said, “Uh, not throwing toys at Blue’s face?”

“Marvelous!” I crowed. “And Blue, what might respecting property mean at home?”

Blue giggled. “I know!” he said. “Not putting Green’s penguin in the toilet!”

Slowly but surely, we came up with a list of things the boys will do and how they will act on a daily basis. I know that some of it will work, and some of it won’t. But it already feels like our normal household vibe is back. “You did a great job, boys!” I said. “Now maybe it won’t be so hard for Mommy to live in this house with you!”

Green replied, “I always come up with good rules, Mommy. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” I asked.

And then he said (and I kid you not), “I make good rules because I am The Decider.”