Interesting update. Yesterday the whining was non-stop. It could have partially been the 100-degree heat and humidity. But remember, the whining's a pretty big thing anyway here. So my son is whining and I am saying listen, just put together your 4 VCR tapes so we can return them to the library, and we'll go out, someplace cool.
Long story short, he couldn't find one of them. Tempers were short on both sides. We're stir-crazy and need time apart from each other but can't seem to get it. And then he said the fateful phrase. "I can't find it....this house is too junky."
This from someone who, like his dad, NEVER LIFTS A FINGER to pick up anything that he strews across the small living room (we live in a ranch style house; it's all "common space").
So this is my last straw. Last. And I lose it. I said you don't like junky? Let me fix it. And I spread out two small blankets on the floor and literally DUMPED every single toy or book or thing or trash or ANYTHING that was his onto these blankets, bundled them up and took it to his room.
"Now the house isn't junky any more, and your stuff is your problem," I said, not being at all mature or sane. But the common area suddenly DID look beautiful. Even he had to admit it. But not without first lots of screaming and crying.
But the wierdest thing came out of this. I mean, I seriously thought we were going to murder each other, because I have SO much work to do, some really serious deadlines and pressures, and he won't let me think a single uninterrupted thought yet we can't afford to send him anywhere (like day camp) for a variety of reasons. But here's what's wierd....
We both suddenly got very sane. We had the car, so I said "lets go out to air-conditioned "The Container Store." We're going to buy you some new toy bins so you can organize your room when you get home." (no lie, it was a mess. mountains of stuff because of (a) the mess that had already been in there and (b) the giant blanket-bundles I just had thrown in.
We went to the Container Store and had a wonderful time. We got new bins, he loved the store & chatted with the employees and anyone else who would listen. We ran a few more errands....the day was great.
And over dinner, he said something amazing. Something to the effect that "too much freedom [i.e. for kids] is not good. And total strictness with mean punishments is no good. But something in the middle, like half-free, half-strict....that's good". So I said (remembering this thread).... "So you mean, like a kid who spends a half hour cleaning his room up with good spirit (our word for good attitude) would get to go out for an ice cream bar?" He said YES!!! So I coached him through his half-hour of cleaning up the mess. He made a game out of it and I helped him keep it light so he didn't get overwhelmed. One toy at a time. Well by the end of the half hour, the room looked awesome, and we went out for ice cream.
When I think of how the day started, I never would have envisioned such an ending. And not only that, bedtime, despite the intense sweaty heat.....was oddly peaceful too. (they have been torture for the past week)
My interpretation was that even though my "putting my foot down" was rather insane and dramatic, I think he needed me to do it. And by giving him the chance & method to work his way out of it, he could feel valuable and feel the success of it.
Just wanted to share.
Long story short, he couldn't find one of them. Tempers were short on both sides. We're stir-crazy and need time apart from each other but can't seem to get it. And then he said the fateful phrase. "I can't find it....this house is too junky."
This from someone who, like his dad, NEVER LIFTS A FINGER to pick up anything that he strews across the small living room (we live in a ranch style house; it's all "common space").
So this is my last straw. Last. And I lose it. I said you don't like junky? Let me fix it. And I spread out two small blankets on the floor and literally DUMPED every single toy or book or thing or trash or ANYTHING that was his onto these blankets, bundled them up and took it to his room.
"Now the house isn't junky any more, and your stuff is your problem," I said, not being at all mature or sane. But the common area suddenly DID look beautiful. Even he had to admit it. But not without first lots of screaming and crying.
But the wierdest thing came out of this. I mean, I seriously thought we were going to murder each other, because I have SO much work to do, some really serious deadlines and pressures, and he won't let me think a single uninterrupted thought yet we can't afford to send him anywhere (like day camp) for a variety of reasons. But here's what's wierd....
We both suddenly got very sane. We had the car, so I said "lets go out to air-conditioned "The Container Store." We're going to buy you some new toy bins so you can organize your room when you get home." (no lie, it was a mess. mountains of stuff because of (a) the mess that had already been in there and (b) the giant blanket-bundles I just had thrown in.
We went to the Container Store and had a wonderful time. We got new bins, he loved the store & chatted with the employees and anyone else who would listen. We ran a few more errands....the day was great.
And over dinner, he said something amazing. Something to the effect that "too much freedom [i.e. for kids] is not good. And total strictness with mean punishments is no good. But something in the middle, like half-free, half-strict....that's good". So I said (remembering this thread).... "So you mean, like a kid who spends a half hour cleaning his room up with good spirit (our word for good attitude) would get to go out for an ice cream bar?" He said YES!!! So I coached him through his half-hour of cleaning up the mess. He made a game out of it and I helped him keep it light so he didn't get overwhelmed. One toy at a time. Well by the end of the half hour, the room looked awesome, and we went out for ice cream.
When I think of how the day started, I never would have envisioned such an ending. And not only that, bedtime, despite the intense sweaty heat.....was oddly peaceful too. (they have been torture for the past week)
My interpretation was that even though my "putting my foot down" was rather insane and dramatic, I think he needed me to do it. And by giving him the chance & method to work his way out of it, he could feel valuable and feel the success of it.
Just wanted to share.
