Livin' La Vida Ocho

It's good to be eight. Just ask my daughter.

We recently started a new incentive program for my employees. As the manager of this well-oiled machine we call home, I was getting quite tired of delegating work to my minions only to find it lying on the floor later on. I'm really trying to foster independent workers, but no matter what I tried, I always seemed to revert back to nagging.

Apparently it was all about the comp plan. Now I know why sales people respond so well to the all-expenses paid trips. Or bonus checks.

Not long ago I read a little article about a woman that started giving out marbles for all the little things around the house that she wanted her kids to do. Read: chores. After a certain number of marbles were earned the kids got to choose if they want a cash payout or a sleepover or other comparable treat. She said this was finally the one thing that really worked for her kids, after years and years of sticker charts and other like programs. Amen sister. I'm so tired of sticker charts these days, as are my kids, apparently.

The first week that we tried this it was like hitting the motherhood lottery. My oldest was doing all the things I always nagged at her about, but without the nagging. Shoes were finding their way into the closet where they belong, plates were being cleared from the table, and clothes were magically appearing in the dirty laundry basket and not on the floor. Granted, most time I would ask once for something to be done. But that was it. Just once. And all I had to do was say "2 marbles" and point to something and it was done.

And not only that, my oldest was actually really nice and helpful to her little brother and sister. ALL of the time. Usually this happens in small doses around here, but now she was like a dream big sister. And a dream mother's helper.

Bingo!

My son also seemed to buy in to the program. We told him that he could get marbles for staying in his bed while going to sleep - and not popping out of his room as he can still do from time to time. And on top of that, I promised extra marbles if he stayed in bed in the morning until he heard mommy and daddy were up and awake.

And he actually did it.

For the next several days. And not only that, he thinks the marbles themselves are the prize. That's all he needed as incentive. Just a jar full of pretty marbles.

Double Bingo!

And so began our lazy summer of sleeping in until 7 or 8am. Well, at least for me. With the longer hours of daylight, the kids have been going to bed a little later, and sleeping in until about 8am. EVERY DAY. And with nowhere to be in the morning, I've been known to stay in bed past 8am. Of course my poor husband is still a slave to the economy, getting up long before any of us. And, as was the case today, out of the house at 7:30am before any of us were even awake.

What luxury. One of the small perks for management.

Okay, so back to la vida ocho. My oldest decided that instead of taking a pay out at 50 marbles ($5, a special play date with a friend, or an outing with mommy or daddy), she'd go for the 100 marble pay out ($10, a special sleep over with a friend, or an outing with mommy and another with daddy). After a month, she earned that big prize. And this past weekend we had a friend of hers over for a sleepover.

The deal was that I was to take them out to a movie and dinner as a special treat. And my daughter was in hog heaven.

On the way to the movie she and her friend critiqued each other's hair, giving each other many sweet compliments about different styles that looked good on each other. "Your hair looks really cute when it's down. Let me see. Yes! So cute!" and "Let me see yours up. Oh! That looks really pretty!". Then they proceeded to put on a little lip gloss while getting feedback from each other. "That looks really good! Is mine on right? What a pretty color on you!"

After that lovefest, they got out of the car, swapped sweaters ("that's so cute on you!") and then went to sit at their own little table at Chipotle. They giggled and nibbled their way through dinner. Then we went to the theatre and they got to share a big Icee and a veritable vat of popcorn. First they danced a little Dance Dance Revolution before settling in for the movie, complimenting each other on their moves and their scores. And then it was show time.

As we all donned our very attractive glasses, they sipped their Icee and munched their popcorn, and had a lot of 8 year old fun. For one of the first times - ever - my daughter and her friend got to have their own special time, without little brothers or sisters running around, and with the sole attention of moi. It also qualified as a special outing with the boss, if you will.

We got home at 9:30p, after both her younger brother and sister were in bed (albeit not asleep yet with our summer schedule in progress), she and her friend got ready for bed and then snuggled in for the night. When I checked on them at 10pm, they were reading to each other.

Seriously. They were reading. Out loud. For fun.

Then they were asleep by 11pm. And slept in until 8:30a.

Aahh. It's good to be eight. In the summer. With a jar full of marbles.

So carefree and innocent.

And now the marble jar is filling up once again, with her eye on the prize of a special outing with mommy.

The boss is flattered.

Sweetening the Deal

Time flies, blogosphere friends.

I think I've finally found something lower on the totem pole than my husband.

Wink, wink, hubby.

For the past couple of weeks I have been struggling with drop-offs for my son. Two mornings a week he goes to a very informal preschool that is run out of our athletic club daycare. And one additional morning we go to the child care center at the club so I can exercise. So three times a week I was being ripped apart as I literally scraped my child off of me and handed him, in all his tear-stricken and snotty glory, over to some very sweet ladies.

One day at the preschool drop off I walked in and another child there was already in tears. So the teacher sort of had her hands full. Plus, let's just say that this teacher is not well-trained in the art of smooth transitions for toddlers. She has a hard time taking control of the situation and often just let's it all play out while she sort of watches. And at times sips her coffee.

Okay, I said it was "very informal", remember? It's just a temporary solution for us until the fall. And she's very sweet and otherwise does a great job.

But that morning I finally got fed up with feeling like I was just dumping my kid on to this teacher and not getting much support with the transition process. I felt like she was starting to dread it when she saw us walk in. So I went down to the day care center office and told them to send someone down there to help her. And I mentioned that she could use someone to show her the ropes when it comes to this stuff.

The next time we were due at school I was driving there thinking that I was going to pull him out of their program. He had a bit of an easier time just going to the day care center, albeit that was starting to get a bit worse too if I had to admit it. But they were much better at moving him through it and using the art of distraction. Plus they offered some more TLC too.

We walk into the school room and he starts to protest me leaving as we open the door. And then the teacher comes over and says "I brought you a surprise! Remember what I said I would bring? Some new books!". Books had often been something we brought with us to help him transition and they were a great tool for the teacher to get him to move on after I left. But this time she sprung them on him right away. And they were "new". That means new to him. And they were about trucks no less. Score one for the teacher.

He went right over to her and got in her lap to read.

I can't express how great this was for me. Of course it was better for him too. But really, I was about out of patience with this whole thing and was worried I'd be in for another long haul with this child, after having finally conquered this whole process with our younger daughter.

But after that nice surprise I decided we'd stick this out a bit longer and see what happened. Now this was on a Wednesday, and his next day back to school wasn't until Monday. That's quite a few days to forget about the new books waiting for him at school.

Come Monday, to help ease the transition even more, I decided to sweeten the deal. Literally. I put two little pieces of candy in his pocket when I sent him in to school. We put them in there as we got out of the car, and he was really excited to see what they were. He even felt the outside of his pocket in anticipation. But he was good and waited until he went into the room before he reached in for the goods. By that time of course he had been greeted with a couple more new books, plus some that we brought, and he was good to go.

He didn't cry. Didn't whine. Didn't ask me not to go.

This is about as close as we get to him saying "don't let the door hit ya' on the way out mom."

The next day I did the same candy trick when I brought him to the child care center. And he went waltzing right in there, not a single protest.

The staff looked at me and commented that he did really well with that send off. Then I let them in on my sweet little secret. They all laughed and said "hey, whatever it takes".

Now we have repeated this process 6 times between both places and had great success every single time. The only exception was yesterday, when I sent him in to the classroom in pants without pockets.

Oops.

I didn't realize it until we got to the club and I was getting him out the car. So I handed the candies to him and he kept them in his hand. But apparently this just isn't good enough. He whined and asked me not to leave, all the while still clutching the candies that he'd apparently forgot about.

I had to hand him over to the teacher in a few tears. And the teacher, by the way, was resting on her laurels and didn't have any new books. But thankfully we brought a couple, and I told him, as I was walking out the door, to show his teacher what color of candy he had that day. This seemed good enough, as he was discussing strawberry and orange flavors and was rather content by the time I left.

Apparently, like most men, he likes a bit of a challenge. He must hunt and conquer. If it's just handed to him it doesn't taste nearly as sweet.

Whatever it takes.

Sweet Dreams

As you may remember, we have had some difficulties and challenges in getting our youngest child to comply with our bedtime routines.

After we finally resorted to locking him in his room at bedtime last summer we had several months of good sleep. No, it's not inhumane. It helps him learn how to exercise self control. And it helps us not get furious.

Then just before the holidays last year he starting 'popping' again. Not at bedtime, since we were still keeping his door closed when he was putting himself to sleep. But this was now happening in the middle of the night. When we check on him before we go to bed we unlock his door and leave it cracked open. Which apparently became an invitation to come visit us at 2am. Or 3am. Or 5am. Or all of them.

Somehow we put up with this behavior for way too long. The holidays were busy...we didn't want to deal with middle of the night battles...we figured he'd outgrow it eventually. We had a lot of excuses.

Finally my husband took a trip out of town in February and I saw an opening. Since he was the one always getting up in the middle of the night to put our son back to bed, I decided this was an opportunity ripe for change.

And bribery.

So I busted out my party treasure chest full of two cent toys and told my child that he could pick a toy in the morning if he stayed in bed all night. And it worked. Well by the third night it was working.

And then we went back to square one after my husband got back. Not that it was his fault. But I had really been talking up the treasure chest when I was putting him down at night, and when my husband got back and put him to bed, which he often does, he wasn't building up the expectations quite so much. We were back to our nighttime visitor for a couple nights.

So I upped the ante. I wrapped up a bunch of little toys, some of them matchbox cars and others just junk toys, and I put them in a gift bag. I showed it to my son and told him he gets to pick a present out in the morning if he stays in bed all night. And I also set an alarm in his room and told him that he had to stay in bed until the music was playing. This last part didn't stick quite as well as the all night part. But not being woken up - at all - until 6:20am has it's benefits.

Voila. We were back to our peaceful nights.

Ah, what bliss. A full night of sleep.

And a pat on the back.

Although truth be told it took me another week before I could sleep past 5:30am which had become one of his more popular visiting hours.

The funny thing was that he didn't even like the presents after he picked them out in the morning. He'd open one up and whine about it. So then I let him pick one that was a car and he was a little happier. For a few mornings he picked out two toys, one a car and the other a trinket. And he'd complain every time. Even about the car. But we'd stick to the one he got and bring it with us downstairs. After his morning chocolate milk fix he'd warm up to it.

We only had to do this for about 4 or 5 days until he started forgetting about it. We brought the grab bag downstairs because I thought perhaps it was too dark in our room to see what he got and that's why he was complaining.

I was clearly giving him too much credit.

But moving things downstairs was the first step down in the process. Eventually we'd forget to pick one out and he wouldn't remind us.

Another pat on the back for us.

We were so proud of ourselves that we started to take on another challenge. I started leaving the door open a bit at bedtime. We did this when he was sharing a room with his cousin in Colorado and he did really well. So I transferred it home and it continued to go well.

Until this past week. He started his repetitive 'popping' again so we went to the 3 strikes rule. After 3 pop outs we would close the door and lock it. Most nights the threat was enough to keep him to only 2 tries.

Of course when I told this to our new 15 year old babysitter on her first night putting him to bed a week ago, she seemed okay with the process. But when push comes to shove she wasn't ready to be the bad guy. We came home at 10pm to find him still up, having challenged her for 2 hours of popping out of bed. And when we found him, he had a special surprise in store as he had each hand full of gumballs, as well as one in his mouth, and a blue smudged face. And no diaper. Which is still required for night time.

No, we didn't fire the babysitter. But we did offer a lot of education. The next babysitter bedtime went much more smoothly.

And then we hit daylight savings and we even have him sleeping past 7am in the morning.

Woo hoo!!!

And another pat on our backs.

Except just when we think we have all of our bases covered, our son has decided to level the playing field.

What's the one thing he can control when we've taken away all his other options?

That damned diaper.

Even though my husband and I have decided we aren't ready to take on the challenge of bedtime without diapers yet, our son doesn't feel the same way.

I thought it was strange that the sitter didn't put a diaper on him that night last week. When actually he had taken it off himself during all of his little shenanigans. And for the past few nights, he's decided that he's going to get up at some point and let us know that he wants it off. Last night he just took it off himself at 3am and then came in to tell us that he took it off.

You might think this is a great step forward toward getting rid of it all together. But we don't.

At 3am we really don't want to hear about the diaper. We just want it to be on his ass and we want said ass to be in his bed.

And we certainly do not want to be up at night taking him to the potty or changing sheets.

Now tonight I was back to offering him a present - to which he requested a car - if he slept in bed all night, and didn't take off his diaper.

I'm off to go find all those cars he's collected and strewn about the house. I need to wrap a few of them up for a morning "surprise".

What? He's just going to complain about them anyway.

If he's going to find a work-around, then I will too.

Me Need Sleep

Last night was the third night in a row that our younger daughter has chosen to have an issue at two in the morning.

The first night she came into our room in a fury stating that her sister had taken her blanket from her while she was sleeping.

If I'm not mistaken this was also the night that her older sister had already woken us up at midnight, crying while in the bathroom. Lately she has had these "episodes" that come out of nowhere after she gets up to go to the bathroom. It's like she's not even really awake, but she'll be crying and then she'll argue with you if you try to help her or see if she's okay. And there's not a whole lot of room for rationalizing. You have to just get her back to her bed and rub her back, and she'll drop off back to sleep almost instantly. Strange.

So now here we were at two in the morning dealing with another issue. And if I fast forward this story it would include being awoken a third time about an hour later by my mom's dog, whom we were dogsitting. Twas a lovely night.

So my husband checked out the blanket situation and settled things. Of course that was just before I came into her room saying "Just give the blanket back to her!" which really wasn't necessary at that point, but somehow I was in a sleep-deprived fit myself and I needed to chime in.

There are many reasons why I love my husband, but this one ranks right up there toward the top. He's completely taken on the role of middle-of-the-night-issue-handler. He will get up and deal with the kids, in a calm manner no less, and let me stay in bed. I think mostly he does this because he knows what a bee-ach I can be if I don't get my beauty rest. And many times when I have to get up and deal with a completely inane reason for being awake, I get a wee bit ticked off and come back into the room fuming and unable to fall back asleep. Over the years he's figured out that he's better off handling the situation himself instead of being cursed at upon my return to bed. He's a smart one, that husband.

Plus he can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Almost every time he gets up, he deals with whatever is going on, then gets back into bed and falls asleep within seconds. Usually before I've even gone back to sleep, even when I wasn't the one getting up to deal with the issue.

So the next night that our little girlie woke up, she came into our room saying that it was too dark. Never mind the fact that it was the same as it has been every single night for the last, say, two years. This time my husband went and turned on the bathroom light, even though the night light was already on, and then put her back to bed.

Then last night she came into our room and said she needed her back rubbed.

Now, come on.

Really? A back rub? Gee, I'd love one too. BUT NOT AT TWO IN THE MORNING!

I have a feeling she has now reset the little clock in her adorable little head and it is going off at the same time every night. And the result is an inability to get back to sleep, so she comes to us looking for a little help.

I know the feeling.

Now it's clock resetting time. I'm not sure what bribery I'll come up with this time, but whatever it is it better damn well work.

Me need sleep.

A Groundhog's Goodbye

Here’s a little more clarification about what my younger daughter and I are working on these days, per my last post a few days ago.

First things first, she is a kind, loving and thoughtful little girl. She is just starting to discover the joy in making people laugh and is really beginning to shine when the spotlight is on her.

I see a budding flower in her that is already amazing in its own right, so fresh and full of life. So raw with emotion and sincerity. And it will have a remarkable beauty when it blooms.

It’s just that her bud isn’t starting to blossom yet. And from my experience, it should be a bit more open than it is right now.

The challenge lies in her social skills. She is hesitant, even reluctant, to join in social situations on her own. Even if I am there, sometimes it takes her a while (and I mean over an hour) to really separate and go join the fun. A lot of times her big sister helps, but sometimes I think that can even make things worse because she’s still not trying things out on her own. Plus she will chase her sister down if she tries to go off with her own friends, which puts a bit of a damper on my other daughters’ experience.

But once she is in the moment, she does have a lot of fun and sometimes she even shows the rest of the world what I get to see every day.

Her preschool teacher last year told me it took a few months of school before she would even talk in class. And she doesn’t really have any one that she considers a close friend in her class because I think she’d just as soon play on her own. Plus she sticks to the one little girl that she has known her whole life who isn't in her class. She calls her one of her "best friends", and is still reluctant and unwilling to go play with her when we arrive at the school.

The real downside to this is that sometimes it’s too late and she doesn’t get everything she wanted because the world couldn’t stand still waiting for her to jump in.

As her mother, this is my arch enemy. I want her to have everything she wants and more. And I know she wants these things. She just can’t seem to muster up the strength to venture out on her own, and that weighs her down.

I want to lighten her load so she can run free and soar high. I want to ensure she doesn’t suffer from missed opportunities because she is so painfully shy.

Granted missed summer camps, gymnastics classes, and the like aren’t going to turn her into a social leper. I know she’ll be fine if I leave her alone and don’t worry so much. She will get through this stage in time.

But there are two problems here. One: I don’t want her to be just fine. I want her to be stupendous. And two: how much time are we talking about? Because this time that she spends is not just hers, it’s mine too.

Do you remember that movie Groundhog’s Day? Where the guy kept living the same day over and over? Well I have that going on with her goodbyes. Which are closely tied in to her hellos. Which all circle around to her shy social habits.

Here’s how her goodbye goes. She says she’s ready, then when the moment comes she balks. Burying her face in my legs is usually next, followed by “I don’t want to go to” fill-in-the-blank. Then we have a five minute discussion about what bribe I’m currently offering, and maybe one out of five times that works in motivating her to walk in to her activity, albeit without a look back or a good-bye.
It’s like I’m sending her off to the slaughter instead of someplace where fun and creative people are waiting to teach her all kinds of new and exciting things.

If you add up all the school mornings, gymnastics classes, summer camp days, swimming lessons, babysitter afternoons, etc, for the past year and a half, it’s over 400 times we’ve gone through this song and dance.

It’s killing me softly. I can’t take it anymore.

And anyone who knows me knows that I am a do-er. I need to feel like I am completely controlling doing something to help the situation.

So here is where the last post begins. With a trek into the social world of my three/almost four year old.

Over the next year and more, we will go places, we will see people, we will make friends, we will have play-dates, and we will enjoy every opportunity.

And slowly but surely, if I do my job right, that “we” will turn into “she”.

My end goal is that she sees her own opportunities ahead of her and she runs full-force, or at least at a fast-paced walk, until she can grab it on her own and head out toward the wild blue yonder.

But she still looks back to make sure I’m still there.

And I always will be.

Marshmallows Anyone?

This morning my youngest daughter did her usual Tuesday routine. It's a pretty simple routine actually. It involves saying "I don't want to go to school" in response to everything we ask her to do. The plus side is she is REALLY good at expressing this feeling.

After a dozen or so reiterations of this sentiment, I feel like shutting her in her room until she's ready for prom. But alas, that would not get us to the preschool, which, as all studies indicate, would lead to her life as a high school drop out without any notion of what a prom may be.

So we struggle through. One way I have learned to get the desired behavior is by offering a reward. When I was working as a therapist and social worker with foster children, I had a foster parent tell me that developing a 'reward chart' and offering stickers and treats as positive reinforcement was bribery. And she used a capital B. In fact, she was a capital B, but that's another story.

My response was this: if you were to take orders all day from an authority figure, like, say, a boss, you would want to be recognized for your hard work too, right? You'd not only want your pay check, but you'd want a gold star (pay raise, recognition award, title change, fill-in-the-blank) for doing a good job. So don't undermine your kids' hard work at learning and adapting to this crazy world by saying they don't deserve a little treat for doing the right thing every now and then.

Herein lie the marshmallows. When I'm trying to get out the door in the morning, and then I'm trying to peel my child off my leg at the preschool, I use the magic of marshmallows to encourage good behavior. And it works. If she goes in without a fuss she gets some mini marshmallows when I pick her up after school. And you better believe it's the first request she makes. Quickly followed by a statement like "I had sooo much fun at school today".

Could this be considered bribery? Perhaps. Does it work? Definitely. Will I be arriving at the high school after her first day on campus with a little green cup filled with mini marshmallows? Let's hope not.