Hello and welcome to a nice, snowy, last-Saturday-before-Christmas Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is December 19th.
Only 3 more days of distance learning and then it's Christmas break. Woohoo! We are counting down the days!
Ever the optimist, I have been diligent in my due diligence to search for the silver linings of 2020. But, folks, here we are, down the last stretch before we can hang up the skates and call it a year, and I can't wait.
This year has pushed me to be more creative, more innovative, and more positive on all fronts than ever before. It's part exhilerating, all this discovery of this seemingly limitless pool of motivation and inspiration, but part exhausting as well. I am tired, peeps, and oh, so ready for a year-end break. Yet, just when I think I'm ready to throw my hands up in resignation, tune out the kids, and binge on a year's worth of Hallmark movies, another little sliver of insight shines in my eye, giving me hope that, yes, we can get through another week of 2020. This week was no exception.
So here was this week's adventure in parenting:
The shiny-object luster of distance learning and its perks - Sleeping in! Go at your own pace! Pajama day! - faded fast this week, especially for the Kindergartener. To battle the blues, I realized that I needed some sort of carrot to dangle before his little nose to keep him showing up at his own "desk" in the living room with his Chromebook. So, I picked what works for me: chocolate.
On a whiteboard, I kept track of the Kindergartener and Third Grader's good choices and bad choices. For every assignment completed, a tally mark went in the good choices column. Because I'm a super positive mom, I awarded tally marks for other things like focus, good manners, patience, timeliness. I also gave bonus ticks for every time the Kindergartener printed his name across the top of his multitude of papers - no small feat for a kid who has 7 letters in his name.
And the strategy worked. The Kindergartener loved seeing his tallied groups of five accrue. I even earned cool mom bonus points because we practiced counting in groups of five. 5, 10, 15, 20...
At the end of the day, kids cashed in their good choice points for chocolate chips. We grouped them again in piles of 5 sweet morsels. 5, 10, 15, 20.... And I would hand over the chocolaty wages earned for that day.
Now, let's pause here and talk about those bad choices. You might think we are a perfect family (so says the neighbor kid. "You guys are the best family ever!" he declared when I announced one day we could make chocolate chip cookies.) But no, we are as "normal" and as dysfunctional in our own way, much like any other family.
After handing over the good choices chocolate earnings, I would go back to the whiteboard and tally up the bad choices. Bad choices included things like playing games instead of doing homework, watching more YouTube videos than mom allowed, shutting off the computer right in the middle of the teacher's explanation on Google Meets. Breaking a lamp. (Twice.)
Just like Monopoly or The Game of Life mimics real life scenarios - sometimes you get paid and sometimes you have to pay - the kids had to return one chocolate chip per bad choice.
Maybe I sound like a mean mom, but let me tell you, these were some impressively solemn, life-lesson like moments. I give the kids lots of credit because they were pretty compliant and didn't make a fuss when returning a portion of their sweet salary. "You eat it, mom!" the Kindergartener would cheer. But I also think the kids took it so well because they still had plenty of chocolate left over to enjoy. In the grand scheme of things, perhaps it's not such a big deal to lose 6 chocolate chips when you still have 23.
And then Thursday happened.
There must have been some strange cosmic dust floating in the snow because Thursday was a baaaaaad day where the bad choices outnumbered the good choices. By a lot. Even with my above average abundance of positivity, I knew there was simply no recovering from it.
Fortunately, some wisdom presented itself as I recalled my most favorite literary quote from Anne of Green Gables: “Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it...well with no mistakes in it yet.”
And so I told the kids just that. The fact of life is sometimes you just have bad days where the bad choices are going to (far) outweigh the good ones. When that happens, the best thing you can do is take it for what it is. Tomorrow always starts fresh with no mistakes. (Yet.)
The kids nodded, maybe gave me a squinty look while they pondered this adult logic, before accepting their fate and moving on to a new activity. There would be no chocolate chips. But tomorrow would start fresh, a Friday filled with the promise of beginning again.
Sure enough, the next morning, everyone in our household awoke with a tingle of optimism; a hint of celebration in the knowledge we had rounded all the bases of yet another week and all that was left was the crackling anticipation of crossing the homeplate of Friday before finally heading into the weekend. The littles hopped to it determined to make good choices. And you know what? It turned out to be a pretty good day. This Monopoly-banker mom even gave out a few chocolate bonuses.
On This Day
Remembering You
Kim
Non, je ne regrette rien. (I regret nothing.) - Edith Piaf |
I may have missed it, but in any case, what were the criteria for "bad" and "good" choices? Were they set autocratically or in democratic style? Maybe all of you just knew intuitively what each meant. Whatever the answer, I applaud the creativity as well as the life lessons.
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ReplyDeleteAll rules are based on force. Sad but true. Whoever is biggest, or whoever controls the money (or chocolate) makes the rules.
You're quite the writer Hruba. Always enjoy reading you.
ReplyDeleteAh, the lilting voice of Edith Piaf first captured my attention back in 1983 on CBC radio soon after I moved onto my farm when I heard 'Edith' on my stereo speakers as I worked on the entry I was building. I didn't understand what she sung about, but it being in French, I just knew it was the language of love. Oui, oui.
Then, in 1998, I recognized her haunting voice played on a phonograph in the movie, Saving Private Ryan, before she was identified as such. Now I'll have to re-watch that scene.
There are days when I, myself, could benefit from having such a system. Do you make chocolate deliveries?
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