Why Does Every New Plan Eventually Die?

And why does "eventually" come so soon?



Another Chore Chart bites the dust.

We're on to piggy banks, tokens, and Mom's Store which is working brilliantly for two whole weeks now. (The greatest feature is the 1 token for every time they respond with, "I'd be happy to, Mom." Chas has mastered this better than anyone, and he ends up with a truckload of tokens at the end of each week.)

How Long Can I Sit Still?

The Silverdale Idol (school talent show) was originally scheduled to begin at 12:45. Then rescheduled for noon. Now it is beginning at 11:30.

This is to ensure that all 75 acts have time to perform before the buses come. I'm not sure I'm going to make it.

How much Elementary School Talent can a parent endure?

PS--It turned out to be only 36 acts (74 kids involved) and 2.5 hours. A book would have been a good idea, especially for the 19 teeny-bopper songs about somehow making it though without the love of their life who, in all cases it seems, had just left. The hockey demo game was original, and the skip rope numbers were impressive. I feel like a trooper for having endured it well.

Do You Want People To Clap Between Each Song...

...or Wait 'Till The End So It Doesn't Distract You?

Eliza has her Graduation Piano Recital today. She'll play 14 little songs at our house and then we'll have munchies. The ketchup chips are the part she is most excited about.

When I asked her whether she would like me to ask everyone not to clap between each (30 second) song so she didn't get distracted she responded with a big smile,

"The more clapping the better."

Am I Glad We Are Doing This?

The Resistance

The Charts

The Bribes

The Tears

The Drive

Why Does My LOOK Not Have The Same Effect On My Kids...

...As My Mother's LOOK Had On Me?

Today at piano lessons, I shot her The Look. As I felt my lips tighten, my chin go out to the side, my eyes narrow just slightly, and my head shake ever so subtly, I knew it was My Mother's Look.

At the same time I was giving The Look I could feel my own childhood reaction of wide eyes and nervousness rise up within me. This was surely going to work, I thought. I felt proud. I felt like I had arrived at a meaningful, time-tested strategy of parenting.

The Look failed me. I sent it again, this time with a more vigorous head shake. Nothing. No intimidation. No cessation of misbehaviour. I resorted to speaking her name seriously AND giving The Look. It was all to nought. I tried several additional strategies, each one a little more invasive (and desperate) than the last. Why was this not working? What did my mother do differently?

We left the piano lesson. I felt defeated. I resorted to the only strategy I know: Now I'm upset and you owe me when we get home. So she practiced the stuff the teacher was asking of her for me at home. But I know this will not have sufficient impact to last until the next lesson.

And worse than that, now I know that The Look has no power over my children.

Is There Value In Performing Poorly At A Concert?

She wanted to apply for the "Mission Talent Show" a month ago. So, we filled out the application and sent it in. We hadn't heard whether or not she was in until this week, but I suggested we press forward and practice the songs as though she was going to be performing them.

Well, sometimes I suggested. Sometimes I begged. Sometimes I bribed with stickers. Sometimes I yelled. Sometimes we fought. Most often we endlessly negotiated.

Vivian called three days ago to say that the rehearsal is on Saturday morning, the Talent Show on Saturday evening.

She is NOT ready. She can barely sort through all the notes. The rhythm, which is very tricky, is a mess. But maybe no one will notice because it is sort of discordant and jazzy and strange anyway.

So this week I have said a new sentence, "I will not fight you about this at all this week. The natural consequence is on Saturday, and you can determine how well you do by how much you practice." She wanted to know what "natural consequence" meant and which weeks in the future would be no-fighting-you-can-decide-how-much-you-practice weeks. After each time through it, I say, "Would you like to try it again?" She sighs, rolls her eyes, groans and says, "I guess one more time."

I feel glad to have a natural consequence imminent enough that she can grasp it. That is so rare. The natural consequences of having no friends if you keep saying mean things, of working at the donut shop if you don't learn how to read, of having poor health if you never eat anything besides white things, etc. are so very far away. I've been able to not get emotionally dragged in to the drama of piano practice this week. What a relief.

But, how is this all going to work out? Will this be a positive lesson for her? There will be a couple hundred people there. Will she never want to perform again? Will it shatter her fragile self-image? Or, maybe worse, will she not even notice that it was a completely botched performance and miss this lesson completely?