Uncategorized

Last May I instituted some significant changes in how I ran the house and the kids. I called it the NewWorld Order and wrote and entry about it. (http://www.livejournal.com/users/sandratayler/2004/05/30/)

Our lifestyle has changed significantly since I put those new rules into effect. The kids have grown and changed, Howard is home alot more, I’ve neglected my duty to maintain the law, and so it is time to institute another New World Order.

The first step is to be more dilligent enforcing the rules I put into place last May. The kids need to be doing their five morning things and one chore every day. I need to make sure they don’t get to play with electronic entertainment or friends unless they do.

The second step is for me to stop doing their Saturday morning work for them. I’ve set up the system. They know what they have to do before they can play with friends or electronic stuff. If I help, I end up doing most of the work while listening to complaints about how they need help because it is too hard. If I refuse to help I’ll have about 2 weeks of whiney unpleasantness and then they’ll do their work solo without complaints because they know that complaints just add to the length of time without reducing the work load. (I’ve gone through this process before and yet I keep forgetting and helping too much.)

Those steps are simply reinstituting things I’ve been enforcing more often than not for the last 9 months. Here comes the new stuff.

Step three. Kiki, Link, and Gleek are each assigned a night to be the official “Kitchen Helper”. The Kitchen Helper sets the table for dinner, helps prepare dinner, helps clean up after dinner, helps load the dishwasher, and helps sweep the floor. I’ll never have kids capable of doing these things if I don’t spend some time and effort teaching them.

Step four. Every day I need Gleek and Patches to have a quiet time where they practice sitting still. I’ll start at about 2 minutes and gradually extend the time. While they are sitting still I’ll read from pictureless storybooks so that they learn how to sit still and listen. This is specifically aimed at teaching them how to be calm and quiet in public places like church.

Step five. I’ve spent some time creating cards for a game over the past few days. The game is Tayler Family Trivia. On the cards are questions like “Where do we keep the scotch tape?” or “How do you clean a toilet?” Each correctly answered question gets 5 points. There are also Bonus cards. Bonus cards say things like “Get 5 points for every empty garbage can in the house” or “Get 10 points if you did your 5 morning things today”. There are also Oh No! cards. Oh No! cards cause people to lose points for household infractions “Lose 2 points for every piece of your clothing left on the floor” I intend to introduce this game tomorrow. Then we’ll play it again in another week or so to see whether we can improve our scores. Hopefully the game will have kids noticing when they put clothes on the floor or if garbage cans are empty. I read an article on this game by a woman who said it made a huge difference in the behavior of her two kids.

Two old things and three new ones are more than enough for me to try to keep track of. Especially since I’ve got to maintain things like homework enforcement, regular meals, and regular bedtimes.

Taking Gleek and Patches to public places is an exercise in balancing disturbances. Every minute I have to balace the disturbance caused by a particular behavior with the disturbance caused by attempting to quell a particular behavior. I never have the option to cause no disturbance. No wonder I opt to stay home from things so often.

Today my sister wrote a journal entry lamenting the abuse of literature by trying to teach it to high school students who are woefully incapable of comprehending it. I responded to her post and I want to copy/paste my response here because it addresses some thoughts I’ve had on education recently. The response:

I did study literature in college fairly extensively. I remember reading an essay about exactly what you just described. It cataloged how The Lord of the Flies was first analysed at a phd level and then masters, then undergraduate, and then high school. It got stuck at high school because it had reached near incomprehensibility to the students.

The goal of teaching literature to high school students is supposed to stretch their capabilities. I agree that stretching leads to growth, but I frequently wonder if we are stretching too hard too fast. No matter how many times you walk a child around the room holding on to your fingers, he isn’t going to walk by himself until he is developmentally ready to do so. Lots of parents around here lament the fact that the schools aren’t teaching enough. Kids should know MORE by fourth grade. They should know this, they should know that, why isn’t more history taught? Why haven’t they memorized the 50 states yet? My kid knows the original 13 colonies in first grade! I listen to all of this and feel like they’ve made education into some kind of a race.

Education is not a race. Education should be a process. The most important thing my kids learn from school is how to learn. They need basic reading skills, basic math skills, basic history for reference, and then they need to learn how to use a library. If they learn that, then ANYTHING they want to know they can go and find out by themselves. This is why my kids remain in public school rather than private school or a charter school. I do want them to go to college, but I don’t need it to be Harvard, the local community college is just fine with me. (And cheaper!)

When I was little I remember watching the olympic gymnastics competition. We always got totally beaten by the team from the USSR because they would snatch young girls and make them live nothing but gymnastics for 10 years. The Japanese and Chinese teams had the same sort of intense focus. I remember hearing adults lament the loss of childhood that represented. Now as an adult I watch my neighbors running their kids to soccer and piano and dance and gymnastics and karate and then to a special charter school which they deem to be sufficiently academic. I watch all this and I wonder if America is becoming what we once mourned over. Where is the time for kids to play?

That strayed far from a discussion of literature. Sorry, I’ll get off my soap box now.

Typical Conversation with Gleek:

Gleek: “Mom! I want fudge!”
Me: (Insert short explaination why there will be no fudge)
Gleek: “But I want fugde!”
M: (Insert slightly longer explaination)
G: “I want fudge!”
M: “I just answered that. What did I say?”
G: “I want fudge!”
M: (frustrated now) No.
G: (turns on the cute) “Please”
M: “No.”
G: “Please!”
M: “No.”
G: “Fudge!”
M: “No!”
G: “FUDGE!”
M: “NO!”
And from there it devolves into tantrums with kicking and screaming because I usually get up and walk away from her. It’s either that or get so mad I’m in danger of hitting.

Sometimes the conversation is about baths, or candy, or painting, or swimming. Whatever it is, I know that head on confrontation never works on Gleek. You have to come around from the side and steer her onto a new track. She’ll happily stampede off in the new direction, but I get so tired of herding and coaxing. I get so tired of arguing.

I know that Gleek gets away with far more things than she should. She just wears me out so that I haven’t the energy to supervise the way that I should. Today at her gym class I realized that another mom was removing her daughter from Gleek who had hit, pinched, and yelled. As I walked to require an appology from Gleek, I realized that I’d actually heard the beginning of the conflict. It had completely failed to register as something I needed to take care of. Complete mommy radar failure. This is seriously bad because I rely on my mommy radar lots and now I have to do a systems check to make sure nothing is broken. I suspect system fatigue that a little down time will solve. Now I just need to find this mythical “down time” that I’ve heard so much about.

Most of the challenges in Gleek’s behavior are because she is three. She’ll grow out of it. Until she does my job is to make sure she doesn’t injure herself or others. I try, but today I failed. I fail more often than I should. I know other parents dread the arrival of my little hooligan because she regularly does things that makes other parents gasp in fear. I don’t gasp because it’s the fortieth time she’s done that particular thing. Today. I can’t survive in red alert mode, but I’m failing to do enough.