Month: November 2013 (Page 2 of 4)

How not to use bribery to change the behavior in small children

Lady C brings with her a whole new world of “firsts.” She’s just not like the other kids (which, I hear, is normal and expected, but completely inconvenient) so as she moves through these familiar stages, I’m met with new challenges. She’s the first of my 3 children to take sooooooooooooo long to potty train (my fault, not hers – I went and had a baby right when we were on a roll) thus she’s the first that I’m resorting to OUTRIGHT bribery. We’re in a one-for-one relationship with the peanut M&Ms. 

It works in a mediocre manner. She understands what it is I want. She does not, however, remember to go the potty more often, like I’d hoped. Yes, I suppose that I could try to remember to put her on the potty more often and that has been discussed and even considered. It just hasn’t happened. I forget, okay? I have all these other children running – or sitting, in the case of Baby M – around and I cannot remember how long it’s been until the pee is dripping down her leg. 
So I give up and put her in a pull up. I’m sure she’ll grow out of it by her senior prom. Or we’ll just have to buy a dress with a very full skirt. 
And then she asks for her chocolate. 
In other bribery news, Miss M, though she puts up a good fight right before bed, has recently been scoring buku bonus points for kind and thoughtful behavior. She’s rocking my world the way she’s considerate and forgiving even when it’s clearly undeserved (*clears throat and looks at oldest boy*). Just the other day I asked if she would let the dogs out/in, as they’re constantly asking for one or the other about every 5 minutes (I think they have a conspiracy). She immediately did it. No asking why, no “in a minute”, no straight up “no”. (I HATE THAT. I work VERY hard to whittle “no” from my vocabulary in favor of the nice smokescreen of redirection. They should have to reciprocate.)
Miss M just did as I asked without my needing to repeat, beg, bribe or threaten. It was like a breath of fresh air. (I looked at my imaginary friend with my Incredulous Look. She nodded excitedly in affirmation.) 
So I gave Miss M an m&m. 
(Now when she’s 500 pounds from overeating because she rewards her kindness with chocolate, she can tell her therapist it’s my fault. She’ll even have internet proof.) 
Immediately, H boy wanted one. I explained why Miss M got one – because she was helpful – so he brilliantly offered to let the dogs out. 
We’re missing the point here, buddy. (In fairness, I think they might have wanted out already. They hate me.) 
Not lost on his memory, the next day he offered to let the dogs out. Pavlov didn’t need dogs, he needed toddlers and young children and 5 M&Ms. He has been incessantly offering to let the dogs out for days now. He finishes his task and looks at me and bats his beautiful eyelashes. Then I have to repeat once more that Miss M enjoyed that m&m not because she let the dogs out, but because she was helpful. And she didn’t do it because she wanted a treat, she did it because she had a good heart. She wants to help people and mommy appreciates this about her and mommy wants her to know that it’s the right way to live
Mom, I’ll be helpful and let the dogs out, he says. 
So, I gave myself an M&M for creating this whole train wreck. Why should they be the only ones to reap the benefits of my foolery? 

Called to an apron

Last night while JJ was bathing the baby, I recalled one of my favorite memories from serving the church. On the last night of our mission trip to Mexico, one of the adults on the trip washed the feet of his high school aged son. I was supposed to be the leader of the trip, and there I was, hiccuping back my tears. (Let’s be fair: everyone was crying. It was the last night of the trip, we were inspired from the work and teaching, and dead tired. They probably had Michael W. Smith playing in the background.)

Why is it when one washes a 4-month-old, it’s called parenting, but when the feet are 16 years old, it becomes servanthood?
Not to take away from the service of rearing small children – I do this daily, and I liken it to service. But I’ve never cried at bath time – at least, not over the power of the moment of washing my children. 
Perhaps service becomes more powerful when we do something for those who could do it for themselves. 
“Service”generally gets paired with those who need help – we feed the hungry, educate the poor, provide clothes and medicine for the sick. These are good things and we need to continue to do them – out of respect for humanity, following the example of Jesus, under the command of God to live justly and have mercy. 
But I might not categorize these as service. These are alms, caring for those who Jesus holds dear, the least of these. 
When Jesus talks about becoming a servant, he’s washing the feet of grown, capable men. And not just men who want the best for him – he’s washing the feet of his betrayer. 
In our culture, we value the power of the pulled bootstrap. We want self-sufficiency and productivity. One of my goals as a parent is raise contributing members of society – and these are not bad things. But I’m not sure they were the goal  or example of Jesus. 
The 5-year-old is now in some sort of laziness stage, asking us to do all kinds of tasks that he has been doing for years – getting a glass of water, retrieving his socks from the drawer, putting away toys. My response sometimes is frustration – do it yourself, child! I wonder, though, if the example set before me in John 13 is put on the apron and serve. To live an example that I will serve those who are capable because I love them. 

We worry about this kind of service, probably out of fear that we’re being taken advantage of – a power struggle. I heard a message by Jonathan Martin where he said, “We’re all about being a servant until someone starts treating us like one.” That’s our fear: that people use our service as an excuse to lower our status. Our hard-earned climb. 
But the entire story of the upper room began with, “Jesus knew that the Father had put him in complete charge of everything, that he came from God and was on his way back to God. So he got up from the supper table, set aside his robe, and put on an apron.”(John 13:3). It ends with the command, “If you understand what I’m telling you, act like it – and live a blessed life.” 

When questions require patience

The birthday boy received his first rocket from grandma and grandpa, perfectly timed from the church cookout a few weeks ago in which the children’s ministry launched the rockets they had built. Daily we hear, “dad, can we work on my rocket?” After a few steps completed yesterday, we heard it again at dinner. “Dad, can we work on my rocket? Can we? Dad, can we get my rocket out after dinner?”

I heard in between these breaths of questions JJ give his answer – no – but he kept persisting onward. Finally I had to intervene. “It’s fine to ask questions, but if you ask you need to be prepared to listen to the answer. Your dad gave you one, you  just didn’t hear it because you weren’t listening.” 
How often we become so enamored with the task ahead, we don’t listen for a response. 
Today in church we heard briefly about the story of Moses in Exodus getting the 10 commandments. Now, it wasn’t related at all to the message (sorry Dan!), but the episode in the middle caught my attention, when Moses goes up to talk to God and the people get all antsy waiting on him that they built a golden calf. 
I haven’t given it a lot of study, but the way it was presented I began to think: the golden calf is what we do when we’re not patient enough to wait for the answer from God. We want something, but instead of listening we either keep asking and asking or we start in on a project. We’re faithful in our asking, but we’re not faithful in the waiting for a response. 
I’ve been in a season of heavy question-asking. Something seems to loom on the other side of this season of rearing small children full-time (with that small detail of part-time business I run). I have a small sense of it, but I keep acting like both my son and those stupid Israelites. I either keep asking and asking and asking or I busy myself with projects that have little to do with the direction I’m heading but they fancy my attention better than waiting does. 
Our culture is full of people not good at waiting – our immediate gratification society doesn’t exactly encourage it – but it seems we come from a long line of poor wait-ers. Hand-in-hand with the impatience comes disobedience – not necessarily because we’re breaking all the rules but we’re simply not doing the good that God calls us to. (I read an article today that said: “In my humdrum life, the daily battle hasn’t been good versus evil. It’s hardly so epic. Most days, my real battle is doing good versus doing nothing.”)
It becomes not just a question of waiting on God’s response, but living as God has directed us. 
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