rewards & consequences

It seems that on a regular basis, we need fresh life breathed into our chore system here in the Paladin home. I'd say it's the kids, but it's me, too. I get off track with inspecting and praising completed work just as much (and probably more!) as they get off track with doing the chores they are supposed to be doing.

Generally, I update our chore chart each fall. This year, I had to put out a new one in January, too, because some things about the fall one just weren't working any more.

As I was recently sharing with a friend, the system of rewards/consequences has to change at least as often, it seems.

Sometimes the reward is a pat on the back and a "Job well done!" from Daddy and I. Sometimes it's a treat from a candy jar. Sometimes it's simply not having a privilege removed. I like to keep this changing, but one thing I'm still learning: rewards and consequences are an essential part of teaching responsibility.

About a month or so ago (right around the beginning of the year), I felt ready to pull my hair out with the lack of thoroughness when it came to chores. In a moment of desperation, I vented to Daniel, "I don't know how to get these kids to a place where I am not calling them back repeatedly to do the job right!"

"Well, what happens if they don't do it right?" he asked.

"They have to do it again. And again. And again! Until they do it according to our standards. And theoretically, that should inconvenience them enough that they start doing it properly the first time-- but apparently it doesn't!"

"What are you doing for rewards and consequences right now?"

"Um... not call them back if they do a good job, and call them back if they do?" was my response.

"Well, obviously that's not enough of an inconvenience. We need to up the ante!"

Thus the Media Jar came into existence.

The Media Jar was a little bit my brain-child, a little bit his. I'm not sure who thought of it first, but we concluded that we might be able to tackle the requests to play Temple Run or watch Backyardigans or play games on the Upward website-- and who has done what recently-- right along with providing fresh motivation for chores in one fell swoop.

What it is: a mason jar filled with small green tickets that each say, "FIVE" on them. Each ticket represents five minutes of screen time (computer, iPhone, movies, etc).

How it works: for each chore the child has to do (example: clean the bathroom, wash the water bottles, meal duty, laundry, etc.), they have the opportunity to earn THREE tickets. In order to earn three, they must do their chore instantly, cheerfully, and thoroughly. If they fail in one of these areas, they automatically lose the corresponding ticket. This is generally enough to quickly correct that failure.

As they earn tickets, I put them in an envelope with their name on it.

 

To redeem them, they have to ask if it would be a good time and if what they're thinking of is acceptable at that moment. Generally, we find that the kids like to save up enough tickets for a movie or to play a game of wii Madden football; the tickets rarely get used for 5 minutes of Angry Birds or whatnot, though this is simply because it's what they seem to prefer. Saving up 80-90 minutes worth of Media Tickets usually takes them 2-3 weeks, as each child has about 2-4 chores assigned per day (we don't do tickets for things like 5 Fingers, practicing instruments, etc.).

The results: they are doing their work with more attention given to all three aspects of a job well done and we have less time spent on and more accountability with media.

I particularly appreciate that it gives me the opportunity to not just give a blanket "Job well done" or "Job not well done" to each task, but to really break it down and talk about attitudes, timeliness, and diligence. We've all seen plenty of people (and sometimes are those people!) who can get the job done, but grumble the whole time. Or perhaps are cheerful, but often late and take too long to complete tasks. Or still yet, are pleasant and prompt, but cut corners and do the minimum to get by.

This system will, undoubtedly, be replaced at some point by another (they all are). Perhaps it will be something less tangible, depending on the season and what we feel our children need to learn at that time. But for now, this system is a huge help with inspiring the children and practically assisting me in keeping them accountable in both work and entertainment.

 

thinking about::

:: how funny Elliot is first thing in the morning when everyone else is still asleep. This is his happiest time of day and, more and more, his sense of humor is appearing. He likes to make me laugh.

:: the grocery budget that I keep blowing. I can't quite figure out if it's my poor management, the rising cost of food, or the realities of a growing family. Realistically? It's probably a bit of everything!

:: World War I, which is what our focus these past few weeks in school has been on. I can't believe how little I knew about this war before now. I also can't believe how much I still get to learn everyday, thanks to homeschooling. Here's what every bit of history and geography and science teaches me every single day: God is good, God is faithful, God is eternal, and God cares. I feel sad to think that this Theme isn't present in many children's studies.

:: how long it's been since I vacuumed the upholstered furniture. I am working on a way to systematically tackle some monthly tasks so that hopefully I won't be thinking this again-- at least for a while, anyway.

:: the many wonderful children's books that are out there. I am mystified as to why so many silly books are published when there is such a plethora of delightful books to be enjoyed-- many of which are out of print and harder to find? I firmly believe that writing and illustrations ought to appeal to the adults who are reading the books, as well as the children who are being read to. I don't care if you're 3 or 93, a story isn't good unless it draws you in.

:: getting our guest room finished. We are on the home stretch. We've been at a standstill for quite some time in there, but our energies and resources are being funneled in that direction once more. It's been almost four years since I had a guest room and I can't wait to have one again! Having a place readily available for guests is such a pleasure to me.

:: apple pie. Or banana cream pie. I really wish I had some right now.

 

quiet evenings

I know the semester is in full swing when one evening after another finds me tucked on the couch, a blanket wrapped around me, the house silent except for the even breathing of the baby coming through on the monitor and the vehicles driving by outside. The later bedtimes of summer vacation or holidays are done away with and routinely the children are all snug in their beds by 7:30pm, some with small lights and books and others asleep before I have even finished reading out loud to them.

The baby gets settled in his bed.

And then re-settled.

(My high-maintenance little man, I think to myself upon re-settling #4 or #5.)

Then I sneak downstairs after a final whispered good-night to my biggest kiddos. As I descend into warm light, I smile about how there is at least one lamp on in every room. It reminds me of when Daniel and I first were married and we quickly realized that he would go around turning lamps off while I went around turning lamps on:

"You're not even in that room," he would chuckle.

"But our house looks so much friendlier with lights!" I would insist.

He's a good man. He lets me leave lamps on just because he knows I like it.

By the time the babies are all in bed, I am usually very tired. Elliot is almost 10 months old and in these past 10 months I know for certain that there is not one single night when I have slept more than 4 uninterrupted hours, and the majority of nights the most is 2. Yes, he is my high-maintenance little man.

(Somehow this doesn't bother me, though it does exhaust me. I guess I'm not too concerned about whether or not he'll ever learn to sleep through the night. I feel pretty certain he will.)

With the quiet of the night hours engulfing me, I pull out a book I am reading or I do a small project or I fold a load of laundry or I watch a recorded show like Downton Abbey or Barefoot Contessa or I catch up on email. It is peaceful and calm, which stands in stark contrast to the hubbub that is most of my day.

The truth is that I used to have such a bad attitude about these many nights I spend without Daniel here. Tonight it suddenly struck me how much I don't resent this routine any more-- not because I don't miss Daniel's company or never wish we could have more time together (I always do!), but because the Lord really has helped me over the years to find perspective, contentment, and joy in even such small matters as this one. I'm thankful that He keeps chipping away at the selfishness in me. He's a good Father.

Tonight, Hattie Big Sky and a hot cup of tea are my companions of choice.

It's inevitable when all is still that I become infinitely more aware of blessed I am. The fret and fear melt away. What was I so bent out of shape about earlier? I wonder. I don't think I can even remember.

And then I think to myself that this must be why the Lord tells us to be still and know that He is God.

Just stop.

Stop striving and doing and crowding.

(Ironically enough, I'm not sure I would do such a great job at carving out these consecutive nights of solitude and still if it were solely up to me.)

And listen.

God-- the God of all, the God who stood before time and who will endure after-- wants to speak to me. He wants to whisper words of hope and assurance. He wants to give guidance and and leadership and wisdom. He wants to pour out refreshing and faith. He wants to reach down and mend the most broken parts, the ones that I sometimes think will only ever be broken.

These quiet evenings have actually become quite precious to me.

How thankful I am for what Jesus does with them.

 

Sponges

As a mom of young children, I am so aware of what little sponges they are. Sometimes it's paralyzing, really, realizing how much they are taking in from me. What are the idiosyncrasies, sin patterns, and plain old strange habits I am passing on, I wonder?

I regularly pray that the Lord will shield them from me and open their hearts to Him.

I also am terribly aware of all the junk out there. That, too, can be paralyzing, can't it?

The truth is that even when they are with the people of God, they are exposed to things that are yet in need of the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit. No person is sinless. No person is perfect. Even the best-intentioned, earnestly-God-following friend will at times be a negative influence in their little lives.

Wow.

Here's what I've had to come to terms with over and over again, since the first minute I held my firstborn in my trembling hands and cried tears of shame at all the sin he would see in me over the coming years: it is my job to be faithful; it is not my job to do a perfect job or do the job only the Holy Spirit can do.

There is absolutely a time to shelter and hide them away. I am a firm believer in the anointing on a mom and dad to know when a situation will be too much for their child to navigate. I am an even more firm believer that childhood should not be a time when we unleash the world on these young ones, but rather a time when we create a greenhouse environment in which they can grow their roots down deep.

But they will come face to face with sin. In the world. In me. In themselves.

And so I pray daily for wisdom. I pray daily that as I take in the Word of God, it would be the standard raised high and an anchor that holds not just for my own soul, but for my little charges' souls as well. I pray that confrontations with sin would not make them bitter, but would open their hearts to Truth.

I pray that He would protect them.

And I take great, soul-satisfying comfort in how able He is to know when they need to see the raw ugliness of sin that they might see the Savior, and when they need to be shielded.

I am their mother. Daniel is their father.

He is God.

 

These Days

These days of mine are pretty simple. Not always easy, but generally straight-forward. I honestly wouldn't prefer it any other way, as I am by nature a fairly organized person. I think in terms of outlines, checklists, and patterns. I am not choleric enough to be truly Type A, but I'm OCD enough. I can't tell you how thankful I am for this season that lends itself naturally to clear-cut priorities.

Even so, sometimes the beauty of its simplicity gets lost in the haze of exhaustion and repetition. That's when I start to think, Don't forget this! That-- and that!-- and that! Yes, those things! You want to remember. There are miracles happening right before my eyes, but I don't always see the the forest for the trees.

Right now I pause long enough to part the fog that is day blending into day to say that these days are::

:: home-centered days. It's true that I sometimes go a week at a time without stepping foot outside my house. I continually grow in my appreciation of this, especially as these kinds of weeks gradually become fewer and farther between due to the children's activities/commitments that draw me outside more and more often.

(Because honestly?-- these changes makes me sad. I am a homebody through and through!)

I'm glad that this season is one of mostly being home-- and that even when I'm not, the "outside pull" is largely centered around what is happening at home and right in our young family's midst.

:: putting festivities behind us days. Despite my normally not sentimental tendencies, I always feel a little sad to say good-bye to one year and hello to the next. Add to this my children's despondency over putting the Christmas decorations away and taking the tree down and there was some serious melancholy in our home over the weekend. Thank goodness for a couple small things to brighten these winter days. Things like a favorite artist's postcard print framed in the window at my kitchen sink, a newly-blooming paperwhite from my friend and neighbor on our dining room table, and the miniature acorn-hat representation of our family that is now newly updated to include six little children.

:: ice skating and hockey game attending and football watching and friends hosting days. When I think about all the rich, rich ways God blesses our daily lives-- opportunities to do special things with our kids right here in our small town and for little to no cost, sharing relational bonds that go so much deeper than just having external things in common, opening our home as we are able (I refuse to think about how much more I would like to be doing in this arena and just choose to rejoice in the days that hospitality does work out)-- I am undone with gratitude.

Un.done.

I have so, so, so, SO much to be thankful for.

:: thoughtful and contemplative days. I am grateful for the way a new beginning of any kind prompts me to reevaluate and reconsider what my choices, priorities, and ambitions actually are. In my heart of hearts I sincerely want my life to be about Christ and knowing Him more. I wish I weren't fickle and that all my actions always followed accordingly, but I get off-track. Quickly and often. God is so gracious to provide natural opportunities to get refreshed in what (WHO) is truly important.

:: noticing my children days. They are unique, special people. I can get busy (with them, believe it or not!) and miss how remarkable they really are. I have been purposing to watch them more. Watching them playing contentedly for countless hours (out in the snow, hidden away in quiet places, in the middle of the kitchen floor, or wherever inspiration finds them!), love each other, feast on being with me, laugh and repent and sing and learn and grow fills me to overflowing.

:: faith growing days. The more I see of this world and raw humanity (in me, in my family, in everyone everywhere!), the more aware I am of how great our need is. Oh! how glad I am for His ever present help! I have many opportunities of late to choose to meditate on His greatness, His sufficiency, His compassion, His ever-expanding rule. There is such joy-- deep, abiding joy-- in this sort of meditation.

Despite what I sometimes (often?!) see, despite what I sometimes (often?!) feel, He is in control and He is not worried and He will not fail.

Hallelujah!

:: get back on track days. This begins with small, but important steps.

1. Elliot taking naps in his bed again after a long month of sickness that turned into a bit too much attachment (as much as I really don't mind sitting and snuggling that bundle of love all day long, I do have other children I need to tend to occasionally!).

2. A fresh start at a Bible reading plan. I've got one that sends me reminders electronically, and so far this has been such a wonderful tool since I do experience my fair share of quiet time interruptions-- and it's hard to remember to get back to whatever didn't get finished in my first attempt! I am so thankful for modern technology. I am on Day 22 of a 1-Year plan and I haven't fallen behind for even a day yet. This might be a record that I've not touched since pre-baby days!

3. Regular exercise. I won't embarrass myself by saying how long it's been since this was part of my days. Let's just say, I've been sore but it's been good. Ouch.

I want to be healthy and strong for my children and grandchildren, yes, but ultimately so that I am fit for whatever the Lord may call me to my whole life through.

4. Morning routine, housework routine, school routine, dietary routine. That last one is getting a jumpstart with our church week of prayer and fasting. Daniel's the only truly hardcore one in our house, but the kids and I always find our own way to starve the flesh a bit (and, at the very least, it's a good way to break our holiday-fed sugar addictions).

 

Yes, these are my days. I think back to a time when this kind of life sounded boring. It is so far from boring, and that is because it is right what the Lord has me doing. Serving Him is joy, peace, blessing, and purpose. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else!

 

Rambling

Every year it happens. The holidays fly by. And, inevitably, I don't do all the things I mean to do.

I remind myself that it isn't about the doing-- but sometimes that comfort only goes so far because a lot of what I mean to do has little to do with doing and much more with being and I think these are precious days that I don't want to miss out on.

Not because I think this is the best it will ever get.

Not because I'm trying to suck the joy out of this life without hope of another.

Because each day is a gift.

Oh boy, am I learning that more and more and more.

Days are here and gone. Time is here and gone. And not to be dreadfully melancholy or anything, but I am not guaranteed anything. Right here, right now is an amazing opportunity to serve the Lord and I don't want to be found complacent.

And, yes, the season I'm in right now is a particularly precious one. My children young, close to me in every way, needing me, listening to me, letting me teach them and remind them and hold them. My children watching me and observing me and imitating me and being shaped by me.

Crazy that so many of their thoughts and ideas and practices begin with me, you know? This is an especially challenging thought to me as I consider a new year, new habits and disciplines. Is my love for Jesus greater than its ever been? (If it's not, the answer isn't to muster up some feelings of deeper devotion; the answer is to be refreshed in how much my Savior has loved and forgiven me.) Are my children seeing in me what I ache to see in them?

I am thinking about what loving Jesus looks like.

Obedience.
Loving His church.
Holding temporal things loosely.
Looking to His return.

There are so many practical ways this comes out.

One way is to love and cherish these children of mine. And as I savor the blessings they are, to turn it all back to praise. 

I am unworthy.
You are so good.
I am faithless.
You are unendingly faithful.

Wow, God, You are wonderful.

 

the story of a tree

Two years ago, we were scrambling to get back in our house after 6 weeks of impromptu displacement, thanks to the discovery (and inconvenience) of lead-painted wood flooring layers beneath our wall-to-wall carpet. Due to the all-around scramble of moving back in, cleaning up sheetrock dust that seemed to appear out of nowhere every single day, wrapping gifts and doing last-minute shopping, we opted to just get a small one (honestly? I had wondered if we should skip it altogether, but fortunately for my kids, Daniel is always up for anything and was willing to do some high-and-low searching for a tree the week before Christmas).

It was such a quaint and special tree.
It was so easy.
In fact, it was so simple and pretty that we decided to go with a small tree again last year.

But we promised the kids that this year? This year we would get one that would reach to the ceiling.
We kept our promise and the sparkle of awe in their eyes has been worth every bit of extra hassle.

Arriving at the tree farm with great expectation

Measuring to make sure we filled up every inch of space that we could

Enduring cold noses and numb toes for the joy set before us

We found it!

Pausing for nourishment (or, at least, food) at the local diner before we move on

Bringing the beauty in

I'm pretty sure carrying a 10' tall tree from the top of the suburban and into the living room when you're 5'10" isn't as easy as he made it look

Lights!

Ornaments!

And, finally, the star!

The End.