Instead of sharing my folly this time, I would like to share my deep, dark secret. People who know me know that I have four children. What is not commonly known is that I have a fifth child that I have to deal with. I try not to take her out in public, because she can be a bit of an embarrassment to me. Her name is Cricket. She looks a lot like Erika, but behaves a lot like Nicole. I think that, most of the time, she is about three or four years old. She is, of course, my inner child. I can't remember my psychology courses well enough to remember if the term for her is "ego" or "id". To me she is just "Cricket". She can be a lot of fun (she's responsible for the dictionary listed below in "TUESDAY Confusion"). She can also be a bit of a brat, throwing tantrums, sulking, stomping her feet, and, when she's really angry, refusing to talk to me at all. I am introducing her now because of an interesting conversation that we had this morning.
Katie:"The alarm went off. 5:00, Time to get up."
Cricket: "It's only 5:00. I don't want to get up."
Katie: "We need to get up and exercise."
Cricket: "My head hurts."
Katie: "Our head always hurts. That didn't stop us from going bowling last week."
Cricket: "But I don't feel good."
Katie: "It's 5 a.m., we're not supposed to feel good."
Cricket: "If you let me stay in bed, I promise that I'll do it later."
Katie: "It's Tuesday. You know we won't have time to do it later. If you get up now, we'll just do Level 1."
Cricket: "That's not true. You always say I only have to do Level 1, but when I get done, you always make me do Level 3, too."
Katie: "Once we finish Level 1, you usually don't mind moving onto Level 3."
Cricket: "But it's only 5:30. It is too early!"
Katie: "That's the best time to do it. If we do it early, we'll be done for the whole day."
Cricket: "That's not true. It's TUESDAY. You'll make me stay busy all day."
Katie: "That's why we have to get up and do it now."
Cricket: "But it's cold in the room."
Katie: "We'll only be cold for a minute. Once we get started, we'll warm right up."
Cricket: "But We're warm right now."
Katie: "Yes, we are warm right now."
Cricket: "And Our bed is so comfortable."
Katie: "It is comfortable, but....."
Cricket: "And it's 6:00. We don't have time to do Level 3 and Level 1."
Katie: "That's true. I don't think that we would be able to do both."
Cricket: "And You don't want to just do Level 1. You're supposed to be doing Level 3, You know."
Kate: "6:00 would be too early to go out to the family room and we can't do Level 3 in here."
Cricket: "If You wait a little bit longer, You can go out to the family room and do Level 3. Then it won't matter if You wake up the kids."
Kate: "That's true. It would be better to wait a few more minutes."
Cricket: "And Our bed is so warm and comfortable."
Kate: "Hmmmm, it is warm and comfor ......zzzzzzzzzzzzzz."
Because we had already turned our alarm off, we over-slept and the real children almost missed the bus.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Misadventures of Disagreement
My folly this time was pursuing more education than I actually needed.
This morning, when I was helping Erika put her shoes on, Erika held up her left foot and said, "Mom, this is my right foot." I said, "No, that is actually your left foot, this (holding up her right) is your right foot." She thought about that for a minute then said, "But, Mom, this is my right because Nicole said, 'You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out.'" OOh, she had me there. How can I argue with legally copyrighted lyrics?
This morning, when I was helping Erika put her shoes on, Erika held up her left foot and said, "Mom, this is my right foot." I said, "No, that is actually your left foot, this (holding up her right) is your right foot." She thought about that for a minute then said, "But, Mom, this is my right because Nicole said, 'You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out.'" OOh, she had me there. How can I argue with legally copyrighted lyrics?
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Misadventures of Distraction
My folly this time was (drumroll, please) getting too distracted.
Erika's imagination has been on overdrive lately. I'm always hearing things like, "For the game, I'm a dragon and you are trying to catch me", or I'm frantically running to save a child screaming, "Help!" only to discover that her cat was in danger. And I can't even count the number of times I've answered to "Mom" and been informed that she wasn't talking to me.
This afternoon, as I was messing around on the computer, Erika came in and said, "For the game, You are the Mom and I'm your little kid and you are reading this story to me." For the game? I guess it is time to stop letting the computer distract me, I've got stories to read.
Erika's imagination has been on overdrive lately. I'm always hearing things like, "For the game, I'm a dragon and you are trying to catch me", or I'm frantically running to save a child screaming, "Help!" only to discover that her cat was in danger. And I can't even count the number of times I've answered to "Mom" and been informed that she wasn't talking to me.
This afternoon, as I was messing around on the computer, Erika came in and said, "For the game, You are the Mom and I'm your little kid and you are reading this story to me." For the game? I guess it is time to stop letting the computer distract me, I've got stories to read.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Misadventures of Tuesday Confusion
My folly this time is in using terms that make perfect sense to me, but apparently not to everyone else. Since I found myself explaining some of the terminology to Rick today, I've decided to write a small dictionary.
Home Chickens: Sort of the opposite of a Free Range Chicken. We are people who are at home. I don't find myself in that position very often anymore.
Laundry Quest: A very exciting game that involves the children gathering up their own laundry and sorting it to be washed. There is not much more to it than that. Announcing "Laundry Quest" usually gets much more action than telling the children to go get their laundry. There is, on occasion, a small reward for the winner of "Laundry Quest".
Laundry Espionage: Much more exciting than "Laundry Quest". "Laundry Espionage" is the process of getting favorite sheets or blankets washed and put back into position before the owner realizes what you have done. This game requires stealth and ingenuity. This game was invented with Nicole in mind. Nicole has very strong objections to having her favorite sheet washed. She says washing it makes it feel wrong. Alex also benefits from this game, though, thankfully I have four of his favorite blanket(s) so it easier to accomplish.
Clean-a-thon: Pretty self-explanatory. Clean-a-thon is the game we play (and by "we" I mean "I") when there is a lot of housework to be done and very little enthusiasm for the project. This game involves setting the timer for 10 minutes of housework, followed by 10 minutes of rest/play and so on. I can on occasion get the kids involved with this because of the fun timer aspect. I think that this game might be more successful if I came up with a better name.
Shoe Shuffle: This is the exciting "game" of trying to find two matching shoes (per child). I try to encourage "Shoe Shuffle" at night because playing in the morning makes us late. Because of my recent refusal to "play", there have been a few occasions where a child has had to wear mismatched shoes or in the case of dance, only one shoe.
Mary Poppins: A sometimes successful game, "Mary Poppins" involves setting the timer for five or ten minutes and letting each child have a turn playing Mary Poppins. Because we can't snap and magically make things put themselves away, those of us who aren't having our turn being Mary Poppins act as the magic. We put the things away that get snapped at.
Tuesday Warrior/Mama Warrior: Because of my never-ending battle with TUESDAY, every week we pick sides, whether to be a Tuesday Warrior or a Mama Warrior. A Tuesday Warrior helps Tuesday to defeat me. I have been defeated if I am reduced to tears or if I find myself hiding in the closet or writing a blog entry with the door locked. A Mama Warrior works hard to make my day go smoothly. The children assure every TUESDAY that they are Mama Warriors, however, their loyalties have been known to change.
Parental Chicken: The game that Rick and I play when we are both doing our own thing, such as reading or playing computer, and someone is crying or something needs be be done. Whoever gets up and attends to the needs of the family first loses. I lose at "Parental Chicken" at least nine out of ten times, I always flinch first.
Vacuum Tag: The game of vacuuming while the children(usually a toddler) run away squealing, either with joy or terror.
Home Chickens: Sort of the opposite of a Free Range Chicken. We are people who are at home. I don't find myself in that position very often anymore.
Laundry Quest: A very exciting game that involves the children gathering up their own laundry and sorting it to be washed. There is not much more to it than that. Announcing "Laundry Quest" usually gets much more action than telling the children to go get their laundry. There is, on occasion, a small reward for the winner of "Laundry Quest".
Laundry Espionage: Much more exciting than "Laundry Quest". "Laundry Espionage" is the process of getting favorite sheets or blankets washed and put back into position before the owner realizes what you have done. This game requires stealth and ingenuity. This game was invented with Nicole in mind. Nicole has very strong objections to having her favorite sheet washed. She says washing it makes it feel wrong. Alex also benefits from this game, though, thankfully I have four of his favorite blanket(s) so it easier to accomplish.
Clean-a-thon: Pretty self-explanatory. Clean-a-thon is the game we play (and by "we" I mean "I") when there is a lot of housework to be done and very little enthusiasm for the project. This game involves setting the timer for 10 minutes of housework, followed by 10 minutes of rest/play and so on. I can on occasion get the kids involved with this because of the fun timer aspect. I think that this game might be more successful if I came up with a better name.
Shoe Shuffle: This is the exciting "game" of trying to find two matching shoes (per child). I try to encourage "Shoe Shuffle" at night because playing in the morning makes us late. Because of my recent refusal to "play", there have been a few occasions where a child has had to wear mismatched shoes or in the case of dance, only one shoe.
Mary Poppins: A sometimes successful game, "Mary Poppins" involves setting the timer for five or ten minutes and letting each child have a turn playing Mary Poppins. Because we can't snap and magically make things put themselves away, those of us who aren't having our turn being Mary Poppins act as the magic. We put the things away that get snapped at.
Tuesday Warrior/Mama Warrior: Because of my never-ending battle with TUESDAY, every week we pick sides, whether to be a Tuesday Warrior or a Mama Warrior. A Tuesday Warrior helps Tuesday to defeat me. I have been defeated if I am reduced to tears or if I find myself hiding in the closet or writing a blog entry with the door locked. A Mama Warrior works hard to make my day go smoothly. The children assure every TUESDAY that they are Mama Warriors, however, their loyalties have been known to change.
Parental Chicken: The game that Rick and I play when we are both doing our own thing, such as reading or playing computer, and someone is crying or something needs be be done. Whoever gets up and attends to the needs of the family first loses. I lose at "Parental Chicken" at least nine out of ten times, I always flinch first.
Vacuum Tag: The game of vacuuming while the children(usually a toddler) run away squealing, either with joy or terror.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Misadventures of Kate's Follies
I don't have a specific folly to list this time. I'm afraid that the whole entry is about Kate's follies.
As I was leaving church today, a mother of mostly teenagers stopped me and told me how amusing she had found watching me parading in and out of sacrament meeting. I'm sure that it was very amusing to the entire Ward, as we were sitting on the very front row. Rick was home today with a sick baby, so I found myself alone with the other three. I asked them all before entering the chapel if they had to use the bathroom. Of coarse, none of them did. Then, half way through the sacrament, Erika had to go potty "right now". I asked the other two if they needed to go, of coarse, neither did. When Erika and I reached the chapel doors to go back in, out came Nicole. She needed to go potty. About five minutes after Erika, Nicole and I marched back up to the front, Austin and Nicole both had to go potty "right now!" I didn't trust Erika enough to leave her while I took the others out, so off we all went again from the very front pew only to return five minutes later. When this sweet sister was talking to me after church, I mentioned how embarrassed I had been going in and out like that. She told me it was amusing to her because of how often she had been in the exact same situation.
I mention that story because it brought home something that I have been thinking about a lot lately. I look around me and have great admiration for the mothers that I see. I watch mothers bringing large families of neatly groomed, well behave children to church every Sunday. I do my visiting teaching in beautifully decorated and perfectly immaculate houses. I see these wonderful, amazing women running to little league, volunteering in school, cooking homemade meals, and caring for their children. They make it look so easy, like they could do it with one hand tied behind their backs. I have often found myself in near despair because I'm not amazing like these other women are. I make mistakes with my family. We eat corn dogs and hot pockets and mac'n'cheese because the more work I put into a meal, the less likely my family is to eat it. My house isn't perfect. My laundry piles up. My floor sometimes goes unswept. And, the worse part of all, I have no idea what I'm doing with my children. I am continually reading parenting books, trying to find the right path to be on. I feel basically clueless, flying from one moment to the next, just doing my best to do my best. Then, one day, someone said, "Wow! You're so on top of things. I don't know how you do it." That stopped me in my tracks. Me? On top of things? Me? And then I realized that all of my struggles are behind closed doors (isn't that where we want to keep them?). No one knows how often I have felt like I was drowning in uncertainty. It made me wonder, "Is it possible that all of those amazing mothers are just as uncertain as I am? Probably not, but it definitely gave me a new perspective on things. My kids are healthy and happy (for the most part) and for now, I'll keep doing my best to do my best.
As I was leaving church today, a mother of mostly teenagers stopped me and told me how amusing she had found watching me parading in and out of sacrament meeting. I'm sure that it was very amusing to the entire Ward, as we were sitting on the very front row. Rick was home today with a sick baby, so I found myself alone with the other three. I asked them all before entering the chapel if they had to use the bathroom. Of coarse, none of them did. Then, half way through the sacrament, Erika had to go potty "right now". I asked the other two if they needed to go, of coarse, neither did. When Erika and I reached the chapel doors to go back in, out came Nicole. She needed to go potty. About five minutes after Erika, Nicole and I marched back up to the front, Austin and Nicole both had to go potty "right now!" I didn't trust Erika enough to leave her while I took the others out, so off we all went again from the very front pew only to return five minutes later. When this sweet sister was talking to me after church, I mentioned how embarrassed I had been going in and out like that. She told me it was amusing to her because of how often she had been in the exact same situation.
I mention that story because it brought home something that I have been thinking about a lot lately. I look around me and have great admiration for the mothers that I see. I watch mothers bringing large families of neatly groomed, well behave children to church every Sunday. I do my visiting teaching in beautifully decorated and perfectly immaculate houses. I see these wonderful, amazing women running to little league, volunteering in school, cooking homemade meals, and caring for their children. They make it look so easy, like they could do it with one hand tied behind their backs. I have often found myself in near despair because I'm not amazing like these other women are. I make mistakes with my family. We eat corn dogs and hot pockets and mac'n'cheese because the more work I put into a meal, the less likely my family is to eat it. My house isn't perfect. My laundry piles up. My floor sometimes goes unswept. And, the worse part of all, I have no idea what I'm doing with my children. I am continually reading parenting books, trying to find the right path to be on. I feel basically clueless, flying from one moment to the next, just doing my best to do my best. Then, one day, someone said, "Wow! You're so on top of things. I don't know how you do it." That stopped me in my tracks. Me? On top of things? Me? And then I realized that all of my struggles are behind closed doors (isn't that where we want to keep them?). No one knows how often I have felt like I was drowning in uncertainty. It made me wonder, "Is it possible that all of those amazing mothers are just as uncertain as I am? Probably not, but it definitely gave me a new perspective on things. My kids are healthy and happy (for the most part) and for now, I'll keep doing my best to do my best.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Misadventures of the Best Intentions
This time my folly lies in my inability to separate my ego from my children. I tend to believe that any flaw found in my children is a personal attack on my parenting abilities. I like to think that I'm not the only mother who is guilty of this particular folly, though I know the children of the world would be much better off if we could rid ourselves of it.
For any of my four readers not intimately connected with my family, let me introduce you to Erika. Erika is my three (almost 4)year old little girl. Those of you who have read "Kate's Treasures" will know that she is very funny, definitely the clown in the family. She is incredibly smart, she has a way of putting ideas together and coming to conclusions that amaze me; for example:One day she wanted a treat for keeping her bed dry, I told her she could have some lemonade. She explained that because everything we drink turns to pee, lemonade could not be a dry bed treat and I would have to think of something else. Erika is also cute as a button, she has a hundred different smiles ranging from shy to huge to mischief. It is impossible to know Erika and not love her. These are the facts that I associate with Erika. There are also a couple of other facts that go with Erika: when she was two and a half she was diagnosed with cataracts and was discovered to be blind in her right eye. After my initial devastation (okay, devastation followed indignation, "How dare they think that I could produce a blind child!"), we dug in and got the problem treated. She had corrective surgery, she got her little bi-focal glasses, and she wears an eye patch to strengthen the eye. She also has some quirky speech issues. I call them issues because they are not officially problems. Even the experts are ranging in opinion from saying she is right on course for a child her age to saying she is harder to understand than a child half her age.
I write the above to explain the struggle I find within myself. When I look at my Erika, what I see is that smart and funny and beautiful little girl that I know so well. What I fear that others see when they look at Erika are the bi-focal glasses and the girl with the quirky speech. Because of my determination to give her the best possible start that I can, I have been fighting to get her into speech therapy. When I finally peeled back the first few layers of red tape within the district and got to the people that I needed to talk to, I nearly hung up on the nice lady on the other end of the phone when she told me that they were the ones that handled children with special needs. How dare she! My child doesn't have special needs! She just has a quirky way of speaking. How many weeks had I been fighting this fight? How many phone calls had I made? And I had finally reached the person who was going to get me an appointment with the right people, and I was going to hang up because I didn't want my child to have special needs. When I went to the appointment (which was a total fiasco far too long to detail in this already long blog entry) one of the nice ladies asked about her eyes. I had given them a detailed history of her eye issues in their paperwork. The woman said they would like to have a copy of her eye reports when I get them from Erika's Dr. to keep them informed of her progress in that area as well. She said that they would like to keep informed so that they could provide Erika with any extra assistance she might need throughout school, such as front seats in the classroom. How dare they! I am taking care of Erika's eyes. I will not have my child defined by her little bi-focal lenses. I smiled, Thanked her for her assistance, and made a mental note to get them as much information from Erika's eye Dr as I can.
I realized that day that, although I am fighting a lot of battles telling people that I don't want Erika to be held back by her glasses or her speech, the only person allowing her to be held back is me. I am letting Labels and my own ego interfere with what everyone is trying to help me do, and that is doing what is best for my Twinkling Little Star!
For any of my four readers not intimately connected with my family, let me introduce you to Erika. Erika is my three (almost 4)year old little girl. Those of you who have read "Kate's Treasures" will know that she is very funny, definitely the clown in the family. She is incredibly smart, she has a way of putting ideas together and coming to conclusions that amaze me; for example:One day she wanted a treat for keeping her bed dry, I told her she could have some lemonade. She explained that because everything we drink turns to pee, lemonade could not be a dry bed treat and I would have to think of something else. Erika is also cute as a button, she has a hundred different smiles ranging from shy to huge to mischief. It is impossible to know Erika and not love her. These are the facts that I associate with Erika. There are also a couple of other facts that go with Erika: when she was two and a half she was diagnosed with cataracts and was discovered to be blind in her right eye. After my initial devastation (okay, devastation followed indignation, "How dare they think that I could produce a blind child!"), we dug in and got the problem treated. She had corrective surgery, she got her little bi-focal glasses, and she wears an eye patch to strengthen the eye. She also has some quirky speech issues. I call them issues because they are not officially problems. Even the experts are ranging in opinion from saying she is right on course for a child her age to saying she is harder to understand than a child half her age.
I write the above to explain the struggle I find within myself. When I look at my Erika, what I see is that smart and funny and beautiful little girl that I know so well. What I fear that others see when they look at Erika are the bi-focal glasses and the girl with the quirky speech. Because of my determination to give her the best possible start that I can, I have been fighting to get her into speech therapy. When I finally peeled back the first few layers of red tape within the district and got to the people that I needed to talk to, I nearly hung up on the nice lady on the other end of the phone when she told me that they were the ones that handled children with special needs. How dare she! My child doesn't have special needs! She just has a quirky way of speaking. How many weeks had I been fighting this fight? How many phone calls had I made? And I had finally reached the person who was going to get me an appointment with the right people, and I was going to hang up because I didn't want my child to have special needs. When I went to the appointment (which was a total fiasco far too long to detail in this already long blog entry) one of the nice ladies asked about her eyes. I had given them a detailed history of her eye issues in their paperwork. The woman said they would like to have a copy of her eye reports when I get them from Erika's Dr. to keep them informed of her progress in that area as well. She said that they would like to keep informed so that they could provide Erika with any extra assistance she might need throughout school, such as front seats in the classroom. How dare they! I am taking care of Erika's eyes. I will not have my child defined by her little bi-focal lenses. I smiled, Thanked her for her assistance, and made a mental note to get them as much information from Erika's eye Dr as I can.
I realized that day that, although I am fighting a lot of battles telling people that I don't want Erika to be held back by her glasses or her speech, the only person allowing her to be held back is me. I am letting Labels and my own ego interfere with what everyone is trying to help me do, and that is doing what is best for my Twinkling Little Star!
Friday, July 30, 2010
Misadventures of the Sweetest Thing
My folly this time is that after four children and seven and a half years of parenting, I am still completely clueless as a parent. It's actually worse than that, after four children and seven and a half years of parenting, I'm more clueless than I was when I started.
Sometimes, my children decide to do special things for me (most of these special things end up in my other blog "Kate's Treasures"). Last Sunday, Nicole woke me up about half an hour before I needed to get up and get ready for church. It started with a whisper, "Mom, I have a surprise for you." Then a slightly louder, "Mom, you need to come out to the kitchen. There is a surprise for you." Followed by, "Come on, Mom. Come see your surprises in the kitchen and family room." I rolled out of bed and stumbled down the hall, wishing that, for once, my surprise could be being allowed to stay in bed as long as I want. When I got down to the family room, I found that Austin and Erika were still in their "sleep out" beds, but Nicole had picked her bed up and put it away without being asked. In the kitchen, I found that the table had been set, complete with knives, forks, and spoons. With a big smile, Nicole asked how I liked my surprise. I looked lovingly into my child's face, and lied. I told her that it was the best surprise ever, that I had never had such a marvelous start to a Sunday Morning. I really was glad that she had put her bed away, but I prefer to have the family eat cold cereal on Sunday as it makes the morning go a little smoother. Plates, cups, knives, forks, and spoons were a little unnecessary for my plans. However, being up a half hour early had given me more time to make breakfast.
As I started making breakfast, being careful to make something that would require the use of all of the dishes set out on the table, Nicole asked if she had been good enough to earn the stuffed frog. The Stuffed Frog? Sudden clarity rushed in. On occasion, when the children have gone above and beyond the call of duty, I have allowed them to pick a surprise out of the Surprise Bucket. This usually requires an act of extraordinary kindness or doing extra work without being asked. Austin was the last person to be able to pick a surprise and he had to pick between the stuffed frog and the stuffed snake (my kids like reptile type things), since he picked the snake, the frog must still be there. How do I get out of this mess? I do love rewarding good behavior, but I don't want to teach the children that every good deed comes with a monetary reward. I felt that I had to tell Nicole that, although I loved my surprise and was so thankful for her thoughtfulness, I couldn't let her pick out of the Surprise Bucket. I explained, what I have explained before, that the one rule of the Surprise Bucket is that Mom chooses the moment when it will be opening and that moment is not at a time when we are expecting it.
Many tears were shed at this example of Mom's lack of appreciation. As I held my sobbing little girl, I was reminded once again that motherhood is like walking a tight rope. Where is the balance between good deeds getting you nowhere and good deeds being only for profit? I tried to help Nicole understand that doing all of that work for me and then asking for a reward kind of lessened the love behind her actions. She assured me that she had done the work because she loved me. And, in spite of my lack of feeling, she seems to love me still. Hopefully, that love will get me through the other pitfalls of motherhood and we will all survive.
Sometimes, my children decide to do special things for me (most of these special things end up in my other blog "Kate's Treasures"). Last Sunday, Nicole woke me up about half an hour before I needed to get up and get ready for church. It started with a whisper, "Mom, I have a surprise for you." Then a slightly louder, "Mom, you need to come out to the kitchen. There is a surprise for you." Followed by, "Come on, Mom. Come see your surprises in the kitchen and family room." I rolled out of bed and stumbled down the hall, wishing that, for once, my surprise could be being allowed to stay in bed as long as I want. When I got down to the family room, I found that Austin and Erika were still in their "sleep out" beds, but Nicole had picked her bed up and put it away without being asked. In the kitchen, I found that the table had been set, complete with knives, forks, and spoons. With a big smile, Nicole asked how I liked my surprise. I looked lovingly into my child's face, and lied. I told her that it was the best surprise ever, that I had never had such a marvelous start to a Sunday Morning. I really was glad that she had put her bed away, but I prefer to have the family eat cold cereal on Sunday as it makes the morning go a little smoother. Plates, cups, knives, forks, and spoons were a little unnecessary for my plans. However, being up a half hour early had given me more time to make breakfast.
As I started making breakfast, being careful to make something that would require the use of all of the dishes set out on the table, Nicole asked if she had been good enough to earn the stuffed frog. The Stuffed Frog? Sudden clarity rushed in. On occasion, when the children have gone above and beyond the call of duty, I have allowed them to pick a surprise out of the Surprise Bucket. This usually requires an act of extraordinary kindness or doing extra work without being asked. Austin was the last person to be able to pick a surprise and he had to pick between the stuffed frog and the stuffed snake (my kids like reptile type things), since he picked the snake, the frog must still be there. How do I get out of this mess? I do love rewarding good behavior, but I don't want to teach the children that every good deed comes with a monetary reward. I felt that I had to tell Nicole that, although I loved my surprise and was so thankful for her thoughtfulness, I couldn't let her pick out of the Surprise Bucket. I explained, what I have explained before, that the one rule of the Surprise Bucket is that Mom chooses the moment when it will be opening and that moment is not at a time when we are expecting it.
Many tears were shed at this example of Mom's lack of appreciation. As I held my sobbing little girl, I was reminded once again that motherhood is like walking a tight rope. Where is the balance between good deeds getting you nowhere and good deeds being only for profit? I tried to help Nicole understand that doing all of that work for me and then asking for a reward kind of lessened the love behind her actions. She assured me that she had done the work because she loved me. And, in spite of my lack of feeling, she seems to love me still. Hopefully, that love will get me through the other pitfalls of motherhood and we will all survive.
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