Following a Child's Wonder

I'm a bit slow on the update sometimes.

When did you "rediscover" your sense of wonder at the world? If you're like most parents, your eyes began sparkling at new-fallen rain and your ears began ringing to the tunes of early morning birds awaking to the dawn. Perhaps you walked through the world hunched over, following your toddler around, noticing the yellow brilliance of the daisy and the pungence of freshly mown grass.

Then again, maybe you were like me. I spent those early years of toddlerhood mostly slogging through the days, grateful if I got a shower, if my kids ate something other than peanut butter on a spoon out of the jar, and if we were no more than thirty minutes late to playgroup. I was so busy surviving the challenges of a high-need preschooler while dragging along an unwitting toddler and newborn that the nuances of a sunset or the harmonic shades of an orchestra went entirely unnoticed.

I probably would have liked to have enjoyed them; I just didn't notice.

For me, my reawakening to the wonders of the world didn't come until my kids were old enough to start having real discussions - with me or each other. When they were mature enough to have their own opinions and debate their merits, well, that was when my brain really clicked in.

Wow!, I thought. These kids look at the world in an entirely different light! Where they see crimson or scarlet, I see red. Where they hear rain pattering or bacon frying, I hear static. Where they see rainbows and swirls, I see oil spots on the driveway.

Their creativity has opened by mind to vast possibilities I'd never before thought about. History interesting? You don't say! Geography useful and fascinating? Who would've known! Drama worthwhile? Couldn't have imagined it! Improv mind expanding? No kidding!

Now that my kids are older, my mind expands farther than I ever expected. I used to think that I loved to learn, but my kids have taught me otherwise - I only thought I did. Now I know what loving to learn means. In part, it means opening your mind enough to learn about things that you never thought you were interested in, and being thrilled to find that there was an entire world out there that you'd missed. It means admitting that you don't know much and letting others teach you - others who might not be otherwise seen as likely teachers. It means stretching your views to encompass more than what you believe, to perhaps have your mind changed by lively, enthusiastic, and sometimes even hot-headed debate.

These days my children are the leaders in so many things. I rarely consider myself a teacher. I'm more a facilitator or an enabler ... or a student.

And that's just fine with me.

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If you liked this post, you might enjoy What We Give Our Kids.

Photo by gamier20 from here

A good day

Today was one of my favorite types of homeschooling days. We didn't have to be anywhere until late afternoon, and we spent the morning doing our own thing and coming together after lunch for some group work.

We laughed through my off-the-cuff writing/editing lesson, where my kids fixed my "crappiest story of all time, Mom." I can't imagine why they said that. Here, I reproduce for you my story in its entirety. I'm sure you'll agree it's prize-winning material:

bob wanted to spend the day at the beach on his vacation so he loaded up his station waggon and drove down to the beach at the end of island where there was a nice sandy quiet beach with alot of nice white sand once he was there he set up his umbrela and chair and cooler and decided to swim so he went into the water and started swimming because he thought it would be nice to have a swim he went out as deep as his knees and then thought that would be a nice place to start swimming he started swimming and saw that a big shark was heading his way he got very upset when the shark started swimming his way and then bit his legs off he got even more upset when the shark bit off both his arms bob then realized that he couuldnt swim any more he was upset when he realized that he wouldnt be able to swim back to shoar this incident made him realize that he was appropriattly named since he was bobbing in the water bob was so boring and tasteles that the shark vomited up bobs arms and legs where bob was surprised to see that they magicly reattached themselves the end

Okay, so maybe it's not great. Maybe it's not even good. Okay, okay, it stinks. That's the point. They're supposed to make it into something decent, even if the finished product doesn't approach greatness. Unfortunately, I'd made the story so very bad, so horrible, so completely without merit that we ran out of time fixing it. Poor bobbing Bob will have to wait another day to have his story written in gripping prose.

Next on the agenda was reading together. Today we read in Discover magazine"20 Things You Didn't Know about Eclipses." The 20 Things article, found at the back of every magazine, is a favorite read-aloud of ours. The highlight of today's article was when we were talking about symmetry, and S misheard me and said that symmetry was this place where people were laid out in rows after they'd died. Huh? It took me two beats to realize that she was talking about a cemetery. We rolled on the floor laughing about that one for at least five minutes.

But the best part of the day was one of those in-person learning experiences. Those are the best kinds, because the kids see the learning in real life, rather than just reading it in a book or seeing it in an educational video.

The display in my friend's beautiful house. It was splendid.

Today we visited the home of my gracious friend, R, who invited us to visit for Navaratri, a special festival in India - nine nights and ten days of celebration and dancing. (We were only there for an hour of it.) Our mutual friend, Deepa, sang traditional songs in the most beautiful, melodious voice. The entire house - adults and children alike - were entranced. The kids came home talking about the dolls that were displayed, the delectable food that R cooked, and the rich culture of India. She even gave me dinner - home-cooked Indian food, no less - to give to H.

G talked about how India was one of his favorite countries to study because of its incredible history and culture.

What was S's favorite thing? Well, the adorable little wooden elephant that was our gift from R, of course. It's now gracing the lock on the back door.

S's favorite part of our day.

Thank you, my friends, for making our day so special.

________________

If you enjoyed this post, you might like Dangerous Books.

Obama Stole It from Me

I have to admit that over the Labor Day weekend, I was pretty much in a hole. A nice, warm, cozy hole that I didn't want to emerge from.

That may be why I didn't read any of the pre-speech details regarding Obama's speech yesterday. Oh, I was aware that people were up in arms about it, worrying that brainwashing tentacles were going to emerge from the television set and wrap their sucker tips around the neurons of any unsuspecting school-age humans who happened to be watching. Honestly, I didn't know enough about the speech to know if it was going to be political or not. Frankly, I didn't care too much, since I don't have much in the way of political leanings.

But I did think it would be useful to have the kids watch the speech, mostly because it was a hot topic and because it was given by our president. Much in the same way that I'll have them watch at least some of tonight's speech. It's all part of our homeschooling curriculum (if what we do can be called a curriculum).

So I was pleased when we all gathered around the television today (after hours of struggling with getting the damned computer hooked up to go through the screen) to watch the few minutes of speech.

Know why I was pleased? Because Obama gave the same speech that I give on a regular basis, in slightly different wording. It goes something like this:

"Smarts aren't enough. Hard work matters more than talent. Sometimes work isn't fun. Failure leads to success. Joy, confidence, happiness, and satisfaction come from success in life."

Okay, so he elaborated a bit. My hope is that my kids will listen to him much more than they listen to me, especially when it comes to the motivation factor. S kept looking at me throughout the speech, with a look that said, "Where have I heard that before?"

I'm just glad that they heard someone else they respect saying the same sorts of things that I've said in the past. It always helps when my kids learn from more than one source, especially a source other than Mom occasionally, and from someone who's at the top of the heap.

And maybe some of it will stick.

Gearing up for "School"

Today's attempt at hands-on learning.

A sort-of shinai and a bamboo, duct-taped, "sword"

(and I use the term loosely).

Our weekly co-op starts in a few weeks, so I'm starting to plan my class. This semester I'm teaching "Arms and Armor," a look at weapons through history. I got, shall we say, stuck with this class, because my classes didn't make.

I offered Full-Contact Grammar (an active grammar class using props, charades, and other games) and Milestones in Science (a science-through-history class where kids learn about innovations by re-creating the original experiments). They didn't get enough votes to be offered, and I was seriously bummed - so bummed that I might have to offer a little science class outside the co-op to do Milestones.

I shouldn't say that I was "stuck" with "Arms and Armor," because I actually was going to offer that very class ... just for a much older age. It wasn't the class I got stuck with, it was the age. The kids are, um, young and, ahem, energetic, and ack!, mostly boys between the ages of four and seven. So how do I plan to keep seven young boys enthralled for an hour?

Weapons.

Weapons that they get to make.

Weapons that they get to make to beat each other up with.

S and T trying out their new weapons of mashed instruction.

My plan for the first week is to let them make a shinai, a practice bamboo kendo sword. I'll send home instructions for making a samurai sword, helmet, and armor - or maybe I'll have enough energy to do the shinai and the armor or helmet! Who knows? Stranger things have happened.

Here's our shinai prototype.

What would homeschoolers do without duct tape?

(Shhh! Don't tell, but I plan to work in a little geography along with the history and the weapons making.)

This is what a real shinai looks like.

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If you liked this post, you might enjoy The Mock Day.

Photo of shinai by Diego Martin from here.

"If You're Not Scared, You're Not Doing It Right"

That quote I heard tonight at our monthly homeschooling support meeting. It was meant as a joke, but in a sense, it's true.

Just about every homeschooler I know - even those who on the surface look like they have it all figured out - secretly ask themselves two things on a regular basis:

"Am I doing enough? Will my kids know enough to get into college and pursue the career they want?"

or

"Am I doing too much? Am I cramming so much information down their throats that they'll end up rebelling, hate learning, and forget everything anyway?"

The mom who made the joke is a long-time veteran homeschooler with highly accomplished children. If she gets scared sometimes, what chance to I have?

One day I'm convinced that my kid is destined for life as a grocery bagger (not that there's anything wrong with that), and I need to "Hurry! We only have five years left to learn everything he needs to know!!! Get the curriculum catalog, and let's get cracking!" And the next I'm convinced that they're way ahead of the game. After all, they have one-on-one time with their teacher throughout the day, they're learning things they enjoy (and thus are less likely to forget), and they get lots of free time to be kids.

What's the answer? Considering I have a different answer just about every day, I don't know. But I do know that my kids are happy and healthy, and they enjoy being around each other. We love spending time as a family. So no matter what happens, at least we have that, which is a lot more than many families can say.

___________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy What We Give Our Kids

Photo of cloud question mark by fontplaydotcom from here

A Convergence of Educational Ideas

Several things converged recently having to do with education - namely, traditional education versus alternative strategies. First, H sent me this blog post, "The Varieties of High School Education," which is interesting partly for its comments. The post wasn't anything intellectually earth-shattering, but it's always nice to see confirmation that others think about education as a means to truly learning and not just "getting an A."

I also was talking with a couple of friends about traditional educational methods, such as grades and memorization. One mom, who is sending her seventh-grade daughter to a new private school this fall, was disheartened to learn that the school will be using traditional grades. The school has many positive things going for it, but my friend was highly disappointed to find this same ol', same ol' being used in what otherwise promises to be a progressive, alternative school. 

This ties into a talk I saw back in April, which I posted about in "A Vision of Students As Accomplished Learners." Robert Duke, the speaker, said that, as soon as students find that they'll be tested or graded, the entire focus of learning changes. Instead of "Cool, this is interesting. Look at this Wikipedia entry about this topic!" you get "Will this be on the test?" or even (unspoken) "What's the minimum I have to know in order to get an A?" The focus shifts from learning to learning as little as necessary.

The online conversation I had with my other friend had to do with memorization of facts. We were talking specifically about math facts, but it generalizes to other areas as well. I agree that sometimes memorization is a good thing and necessary. But the big question is when? Should I drill my kid over the summer on his multiplication facts before he understands why they're important? What's the point of that?

Let's face it. Memorizing something like the times tables is simple and doesn't take too long. Why do we stress over that one little thing so much? There's plenty of time in a kid's younger years (and it goes faster at an older age) to master that when it's necessary, and the kid is much more willing to do it when he sees the reason.

Take T, for instance. He recently finished division (we follow a mastery vs. spiral approach when it comes to math). He had never memorized his multiplication tables back when we were focusing on multiplication, but it was abundantly clear that he completely understood the concept. He was inventing little mental tricks to figure out the answer to problems without anyone teaching him the tricks. So when long division came around, he found himself spending a long time doing the problems. Again, it wasn't because he didn't understand the concept - that part came easily - it was because he was having to take time to do his little mental tricks to figure out the multiplication problems.

(Side note: I recently bought Secrets of Mental Math: The Mathemagician's Guide to Lightning Calculation and Amazing Math Tricksbut haven't had a chance to sit down with it yet. The kids thought it was cool that Bill Nye wrote one of the forewords.)

Yes, it would have been easier for T to have already mastered the times tables, but he didn't see the reason for it until tackling long division. When he realized that he was wasting a lot of time figuring out multiplication problems in the middle of a long division problem, then he was motivated to learn the times tables. I didn't have to fight him about memorizing; instead he did it when he saw the necessity of it and it went fairly smoothly.

Granted, there are some kids who, for whatever reason, don't seem to be motivated on their own. Is it personality? Smarts? Peer pressure? Who knows? There will always be those students, and it's our job to figure out what makes them tick.

The question is, does traditional education further the learning of these kids - not to mention all the self-motivated ones? I have yet to see any hard evidence that it does in any real way. As Duke said, the educational system has it all wrong.

Now I just have to figure out how to do it right. Sigh.

________________

If you liked this post, you might enjoy Transitioning from Love of Learning to Academic Excellence

Photo of "Rules for Class" by theeerin from here

What We Give Our Kids

So what's our biggest goal as parents?

Tough question. Obviously, the answer will be different for every parent, but one answer that sticks out for me is to raise my kids so that they don't need me anymore. That's what we're all striving for, isn't it? To raise our kids so that they'll be capable, happy adults?

To that end, here are some of the things I want to give my kids:

--the strength to do the right thing, even when it's hard

--the ability to know what the right thing is

--the stamina to be respectful, contributing members of society

--the courage to pursue that which fulfills them

--enough experience in life to learn what their passions are

--enough knowledge to be able to pursue those passions

--the respect to figure these things out for themselves

--and lastly, (and most importantly?) the ability to think for themselves

There are surely others, which I'm sure I'll think of five minutes after I post this.

You'll notice that there are some glaring omissions from this list, that many of you will be surprised to see, especially since we homeschool.

Here are some things that I'm not overly concerned with (but if they happen, that'll be okay too):

--my kids' being the "best" at something, whether it's winning first place in a national competition or beating their friends in a neighborhood game of soccer (having them be pleased with their performance is good enough for me)

--my kids' entering a career that's financially lucrative (I'd love them to be financially prosperous throughout their lives, but not at the expense of their happiness - I'd rather them be poor and fulfilled than rich and miserable)

--my kids' getting into the "best college" (yes, they'll all go to college and hopefully graduate school, but the more research I do the more I realize that the particular undergrad school has little to do with success throughout life)

--my kids' being formally recognized as academically "gifted," whether through such a program as Duke's Talent Identification Program or as a National Merit Scholar (sure, those would be great, but they're not necessary - who will recognize my youngest child's giftedness in humor, my daughter's giftedness in connecting with young children and elderly adults, or my oldest son's giftedness at memorizing vast amounts of trivia? Do those gifts merit any less admiration?)

--my kids' following the normal path (whatever path is the one that will take them where they want to go ... that's the one they should follow)

--my kids' "fitting in" (I'd rather they be comfortable in their own skin, value their unique characteristics, and laugh every day)

More than anything, I want my children to approach every day with joy, live a life of fulfillment, and have a packed house at their funerals.

image of purple passion by PinkMookse from here, image of "think go live be" by southerntabitha from here

Curbing Creative Catastrophes

A friend of mine and I talk regularly about parenting strategies, and recently she became perplexed by what to do with her inquisitive 8-year-old boy's creative tendencies. He had recently devised a number of innocent experiments, which had resulted in a few things being damaged or ruined. The straw that broke the camel's back was when he used an entire gallon of milk to see if he could turn it into yogurt.

We had a long email discussion about this, and she thought it might be useful to someone else in cyberland if the bulk of that discussion were posted here. 

Below is the main idea of her email (her exasperated "cry for help"), with my reply following.

From the mom:

"My son is genuinely trying to see what happens when he conducts experiments; he's not trying to test his limits. I'm struggling with not extinguishing his curiosity versus not having money wasted like this. He says that if he asked me I'd say no to taking the chance of losing a gallon of milk, and I said well of course, darn it, and he started crying, saying I was using a firm voice. I said I'd have given him about a cup to experiment with - not a gallon - and he says the experiment needed a gallon. I said why? Please explain why you could not do this with one cup milk, and he says, 'I can see from your eyes that you're mad, so we'll talk later.'

"Some new found sense of extreme independence is telling him he's got as much sense as the adults now and he can make these decisions. He put the cordless phone in the water today. He was using the intercom and really needed to see if worked under water. He actually said about three times today, 'I couldn't resist it.' I think maybe we've spoiled him totally. After my parents' visit I am pretty confused about what's spoiling him versus what's just necessary for him.

"Camille, your thoughts? What're the consequences for all this? Remember, he recently told his friends it was perfectly okay to write with a pen on the back of the leather couch. The ink marks won't go away. When I mentioned this to our old neighbors, they said they'd have spanked their kids for that. I was like, god no, I wouldn't spank him for anything, but I am wondering if I just have no idea what I am doing." 

Me now:

I have a number of thoughts, which I'll just throw out there:

--He could be testing his limits, seeing how far he can go with "experimenting."

--He could be truly experimenting, albeit without any thought to how his experiments affect others.

--He could be trying to get your attention, which could be seen as "acting out" or "misbehaving."

--He could be doing all of these things. (This is my bet! LOL)

Let me see if I can sum up the situation, and be sure to correct me if I have it wrong. 

1. You have no problem with his experimenting, and you encourage him to use his mind creatively.

2. You have a big problem with his destroying family property, even if it's unintentional.

3. You don't like the fact that he experiments impulsively, without regard to how it will affect property and the people who use that property (e.g., the cordless phone).

4. You would like to have some input into what he uses for experiments.

5. He wants to have free use of everything in the house.

6. He wants to be treated like an adult when it comes to his experiments and choices.

7. He doesn't ask permission to do something because he believes that you'd say "no."

Sounds like he has a very rational mind, so why don't you approach him with rationality?

My first approach would be to have a sit-down conversation with him to discuss the situation. I'll give you an example of how my conversation with one of my kids might go, and I'll just use the milk as an example ...

Me: "I'm sorry I got angry about the ruined milk earlier today. I'd like to talk about how we can work this out in the future so it doesn't happen again."

Him (hesitantly): "Okay ... " 

Me: "I greatly value your inquisitiveness and your curiosity, and I want to encourage you to continue to experiment with things. One of your greatest gifts is your curiosity of the world, and it will serve you well as an adult. But I get angry when I unexpectedly find things that are ruined or damaged. If I were to go in your room and take your [insert favorite toy here] and use it in an experiment that damaged it, I'd bet you'd be pretty mad at me. Well, I feel the same way when I find something of our family's that has been ruined."

Him (voice raised): "But I just wanted to see if I could turn the milk into yogurt!"

Me: "I understand that, and I'm not angry that you wanted to try an experiment on the milk. But I was planning on using the milk later for a recipe/breakfast, and now I don't have it, and I'll have to go to the store to replace it. Do you have any suggestions for how we can avoid this in the future?"

Him: "NO!"

Me: "Well, I can think of a few things. Would you like to hear them, or do you want to come up with a few ideas together?"

Him: "I don't have any ideas! All I know is that you get mad when I try to do anything!"

Me: "I bet it seems that way, but what I'm mad about is that I keep finding things that have been damaged, and it seems like you're not respecting the things that we use together as a family."

Him: "But I NEED those things!"

Me: "I realize that, and I want to encourage your experiments. But I also have a responsibility to our family to have milk to drink, and you have responsibilities to the family as well. If you use all the milk without telling me so that I can plan for it, then we as a family won't have what we need."

The conversation might continue like this for quite some time, but eventually, he would start talking, and I'd try my best to get him to give some ideas for a solution. If I'm the one to propose every solution, he won't buy into any of them, believe me.

That said, here are some ideas I'd have for solutions:

1. Give him an allowance, and everything he damages or destroys through experimenting gets paid for with that. If the cost of the item is more than his stash of money, then he has to work off the debt.

2. Give him a budget for experiments (this would be hard if he can't contain his impulses). If he wants to submerge a cordless phone, he can buy one to use, or he can experiment on yours and replace it if it ruins it.

3. Make a list together of the types of things that are always eligible for experimental use (disposable things, renewable things [like grocery bags], things that you're finished with [old cell phones], etc.).

4. Make a list together of all the things that are strictly off limits. In our house that would be anything that I consider my personal property - my jewelry, certain items in my sewing room, etc. The list would probably also include anything valuable or irreplaceable (e.g., the couch, an heirloom, etc.).

5. Make a list of all the types of experiments that are okay and aren't okay (e.g., experiments using fire or the microwave, at least without supervision, anything that permanently alters the look of something that is family property).

6. Make a note that all of his items that are his are his to use as he pleases, and you won't say a thing about it, and he doesn't have to ask you. (Make a list of what those things are, if you need to.)

As to the lists, it would be infinitely better for him to make each list (that is, he would write it out and come up with most of the ideas with as little obvious help from you as possible). That way, he can't complain to you that you made all the rules and he couldn't abide by them.

If you go to all this work to come up with a solution, and then he doesn't abide by the agreement, then all bets are off. He *has* to live up to his side of the agreement or you don't have to live up to yours (and you might end up restricting his behavior). Make sure he knows that going in. This is not a punishment. It's a simple fact that, if he can't respect you and your household, then he loses the benefits. It's back to the logical consequences thing - he wants to be treated as an adult, so fine. If he's old enough to be treated like an adult, then he's old enough to handle the consequences of adult behaviors (e.g., paying for something that gets broken or having the use of something taken away because he's misusing it - just like they do in court decisions).

Once he knows what's free use and what's off limits, then he has complete freedom, and make sure he knows exactly that.

As to the milk issue specifically, I have him pay to replace the milk (after all, someone has to replace it). That means the money would come out of his pocket, he would go with you to the store, and he would take it to the counter and pay for it himself. Not mixed in with the week's groceries. I would stand next to him in case he needed help, but he'd have to do it himself.

Me again: I have no idea if there's anything here that might be of use to someone else, but there it is.

If you liked this post, you might enjoy these posts: Natural and Logical Consequences, More on Natural and Logical Consequences, and Natural and Logical Consequences: The Dreaded Four-Year-Old

Photo of Milk Sculptures by Tambako the Jaguar from here

If You Give a Kid a Pancake ...

If you give a kid a pancake ...

She'll want some syrup to go with it. You'll give her some of her favorite maple syrup.

She'll probably ask you if it's organic. When you say you're not sure, she'll check the label to make sure you're being kind to the environment and notice that it was made in Quebec.

She begin to tell you that the Quebec maple syrup supply suffered a massive drop in 2008, so she'll probably drag you to the computer to find out why.

She'll google "Quebec maple syrup supply" and find a link to "honey bee population decline." About that time, her older brother will come in and probably want to know what we're doing.

He'll probably remind us of a recent Mythbusters episode where they tested the myth that you can swim just as fast in syrup as you can in water. The kids will decide to try it, so they'll charge out to the backyard to see if they can re-create the myth.

As they run screaming toward the hose, their younger brother will probably ask, "What are they doing?" I'll answer, "seeing if they can swim as fast in syrup as in water." He'll ask, "Where's the syrup?" to which I'll answer, "We're out." (which, fortunately, we are).

He'll probably run to the back door, yelling, "Mom says we're out of syrup." One of the kids will probably  shout, "Okay, then let's see if we can swim faster in Jello!" and charge off toward the pantry, and the other will yell, "Mom, how much Jello will it take to fill up the pool?"

I'll answer, "I don't know, but we don't have any anyway," to which one of the kids will probably reply, "Hmph." About that time, one of the kids will notice a bee land on the flower of a weed in the backyard. He'll probably say, "Look! I thought the bee population was in decline!" One of the other kids will probably say, "Let's find out if it's true!"

They'll come sliding into the house, dripping, and run back to the computer. They'll google "honey bee population decline" and find out that the decline may be related to pesticide use. One of them will probably shout, "See, Mom! It's a good thing that syrup is organic!" 

One of the others will notice a link to information on Africanized bees and will get scared. One of them will probably start reading the history of how bees in Texas became Africanized, which will morph into an impromptu geography lesson about Brazil and Sao Paulo.

One of the kids will probably ask, "Isn't the samba the national dance of Brazil?" I'll then hear from across the house (since I'm trying to sneak away at this point), "MOM, can you show me how to samba?" I'll yell back, "I don't know how, but let's look at it on YouTube." We'll look up the samba, which will give us a link to Matt (Where the Hell Is Matt?) learning to dance the samba.

They'll all starting samba-ing, as I slowly backstep out of the office, which will quickly degenerate into a wrestling match. 

I'll probably hear giggles and squeals, and then shortly afterward, feet pitter-pattering toward the kitchen. One of them will sigh, "I'm so sweaty, I'm sticky!" which will remind them of their favorite maple syrup.

They'll probably ask me for some. And chances are, if they ask me for some syrup, they'll want a pancake to go with it.

(At least that's the way it is in our house.)

Based on the book If You Give a Pig a Pancake

Natural and Logical Consequences: The Dreaded Four Year Old

I'm finally getting to the promised topic of consequences with the four year old. Sorry for the delay!

Any time the subject of natural or logical consequences comes up, I hear a lot of comments like this:

"I tried it, and it didn't work for my kids."

"My kids are so argumentative. It's just easier to lay down the law."

"My daughter just talked and negotiated too much. She just needs to do what I say because I'm the mother."

"All my kids understand is authority."

"I agree in theory, but I can't pull it off in practice."

"Every time my child and I begin discussing choices, the conversation derails and quickly devolves into 'Do it my way or else!'" 

The. Four. Year. Old.

Aack! 

The age of endless questions. This age seems to be really tough to get through for attachment parents and for parents trying to follow natural and logical consequences. Let's take a quick look at some of the reasons that parents give up, shall we?:

"Why?" 

"But I don't want to ..." 

"But what about ...?"

"But I like this better!"

"Why not?"

"But that's not the way to do it!"

"But my teacher/Janie/the dog does it this way!"

"Why can't I ...?"

"Nooooooo!!!"

Endless questions. Endless negotiations. Endless talking. Endless discussion. On and on and on. The four year old seems to want to negotiate everything. 

Obviously, I'm no expert, and my kids aren't perfect. But I've been through the formidable fours three times, and I've spent my share of time at the mediation table.

Let's just take a look at a few real-life examples of situations where four year olds seem to get the upper hand with a few (or maybe a bunch of) well-placed whines.

--Getting ready to leave the house for school or some event.

Four year olds have amazing stamina. They can seemingly negotiate for hours on end while dancing from foot to foot and rolling around on their heads. Some of the most, ahem, amusing times is when they're delaying to get out of the house - sometimes even when they're going to places they want to go to. 

I got so tired of nagging and nagging them to be ready to leave the house on time. My solution was to pick some event they wanted to go to but that I didn't care about (say, yet another birthday party) and choose for that one to be the "learning experience." I'd say something like, "We need to leave at 4:00 to be at the birthday party on time. It's 2:00 now. I'll give you a thirty-minute warning, but I won't be bugging you over and over to get ready. In order for us to go to the party, these things have to be done [wrap present, get dressed, etc.]. Do you think you'll be able to be ready?" Sure, Mom, I'll be ready. Yeah, right. At 3:30 (after watching said kid goof off and completely forget about the time ticking by), I'd say, "It's 3:30. We need to leave in thirty minutes to be at the party on time. Will you be ready?" This either causes a mind state of panic or an apathetic "Sure, Mom" - and sometimes panic followed by lethargy if said kid gets distracted. At 4:00 I'd say, "It's 4:00. We need to leave now in order to be at the party on time." Then I'd step back as said kid goes into Tasmanian Devil mode, swirling around trying to get everything done that needed to be done. Being late to a party he was really looking forward to was consequence enough. It didn't take any extra punishment from me.

If it was an event where we needed to be on time or else we'd miss it entirely (e.g., seeing a movie), then, hey, we'd miss it. 

With my older kids, I'd take it a step further. After all, no one is reminding me every five minutes of my own appointments, and I have to remember all of theirs as well. So I'd put all the responsibility on them. I'd give them half-hour reminders and maybe fifteen-minutes reminders if they're busy doing schoolwork or are otherwise occupied, but I don't lay out every little thing that needs to be done. Giving them the responsibility for their own successes has created some, say, learning opportunities (see, for instance, my post on procrastination). 

Of course, I wasn't okay with letting one kid drag out getting out of the house, making a sibling late to his/her event. That shows total disrespect, even if it is a cry for attention or a ploy for power. I would state it just like that, "I know it must feel powerful for you to make G late for his soccer game by not being ready, but that's not fair to him, and he has a responsibility to his team. In our family, we do our best to respect each other. If you're still in your underwear when it's time to leave, then you'll have to go in your underwear." (And yes, this type of thing has happened on occasion.)

--Brushing teeth. (Egad. The dreaded toothbrush.)

This seems to be a problem for lots of kids. Some parents don't seem to care that much, but H and I did. I grew up in a time when kids simply didn't brush their teeth, at least not until their permanent teeth came in. I have the fillings to prove that that strategy wasn't the best one.

There are lots of techniques to get kids to brush their teeth (or allow their parents to do it for them), but here we're talking about the natural/logical consequences approach. What worked for me recently - and I wish I'd thought of this when my kids were younger - was simply to open my mouth and show them my fillings. Somehow kids seem to acquire the fear of getting fillings through the ether; maybe it's all those board books intending to "help" get through the dentist's visit. T took one look at the inside of my mouth, silently walked into the bathroom, eyes wide, and began brushing.

--Leaving toys scattered on the floor.

This is a toughie, because the natural consequences can be excruciating for a young child. That consequence, obviously, is that the toy gets stepped on and broken. And since the toys that are usually strewn about are the favorite ones, having a much-loved toy get smashed can be devastating (albeit a powerful lesson).

However, this is sporadic at best and in no way a dependable outcome. Instead, I'd start with explaining that toys can get stepped on and broken (fat lot of good that discussion will do ya', if your kids are anything like mine). If you want to push the concept of the natural consequence, you could accidentally-on-purpose step on a less-than-favorite-but-somewhat-desired toy, thereby showing the natural consequence without having your child scarred and explaining to his therapist in twenty years that "Mom murdered my Freddie the Fire Truck." (My oldest sister still has vivid recollections [waking nightmares?] of my mom burning her stick horse - my mom had no idea that my sis even cared about it since she hadn't used it in years, and it was in tatters.)

If that doesn't work, you can always move to other, more extreme measures ... the logical consequence. This might take several forms:

"I'm afraid I'm going to sprain my ankle if I step on your toys, so I'm going to put them away where they'll be safe and I won't have to worry about stepping on them."

"With your toys strewn about, I worry that somebody will be hurt if they trip on them. Would you like to put them away, or would you like me to find a safer home for them?"

A bit harsher: "If you don't wish to take care of your toys, maybe we should give them to a child who doesn't have any who can take care of them."

And the kicker ... "I get really angry when I trip over your toys again and again. I don't like being angry, so we need to come up with a solution on how to keep them off of the floor."

One thing I can say that is important with logical consequences is to include your kid in the process as much as possible. Because logical consequences are contrived rather than natural, it just makes sense for the child to be involved. Besides, I've found that things work out so much better if the kid is invested in some way.

Four year olds really want to be heard. They need to be included in the decisions and the discussions. Get your kid to give you all her ideas on what might happen in a given situation. Maybe the natural consequence is something she can live with (missing the first half hour of the birthday party). If not, then have her come up with a solution. If she can't, then offer some.

One of the key components to this type of parenting is not to make the consequence a punishment. I once knew a guy who had been in hard-core jail for a period of months. When he came out, he said that the other inmates weren't learning anything from their incarceration except how to be better criminals. That really hit home with me. I don't want my kids to use their punishment as a way to think of ways to get back at me or to figure out how better to get away with the "crime." 

No matter what consequence you end up with, it needs to make sense. It has to make sense to you and the child. Also, what another mom said to me is right on target: the key is not to get caught up in all the debate - state the expectation and then let it be up to them to follow through or not. If they choose a certain behavior, knowing what that consequence is, then so be it. They will only learn by failures, not by successes.

Do all of these ideas work every time? Of course not, just like the fact that I'm not always able to pass up that extra piece of chocolate cake, even though I know the natural consequence is that I'll be cursing it in 12 hours - and if I do it often enough I won't be able to fit into even my fat clothes. And we adults don't always learn from natural consequences, do we? (Just ask anyone who's gotten two tickets for speeding.) And sometimes it takes a number of times to finally "get it." (Just ask anyone who's gotten a bunch of tickets for speeding.)

For more of my ideas on natural and logical consequences, you can see this post, or you can see this post for a specific example when S was six years old.

Remember, nothing works for every person or every kid or every family. Each one needs to find his or her own way. By giving examples of what we've done in our family, I might come across like I think I'm some kind of expert, and nothing could be farther from the truth [even if I end up sounding like it sometimes]. 

Some books you might want to check out: Unconditional Parenting: Moving from Rewards and Punishments to Love and Reason and Kids, Parents, and Power Struggles: Winning for a Lifetime

More on Natural and Logical Consequences

Okay, so I  promised one of my favorite stories on natural consequences. Stop me if you've heard this.

No? Then here goes.

In our house we talk a lot about choices and options. I'm a firm believer in giving kids every possible, reasonable choice. But with that freedom comes responsibility.

My kids know without a doubt that they can make their own choices, and along with them come the responsibilities - and consequences - of those choices.

Case in point. When S was about 6 years old, we all decided to go on a 3-mile hike to find a geocache in the woods. We'd be hiking over gravel and rock trails and through weeds, right along with the Texas critters. S decided she wanted to wear her favorite flip-flops. Pink, plastic flip-flops.

We talked about how long the hike was and what kind of ground we'd be walking on. We discussed how no one was going to carry her if her feet got scratched, she got blisters, or she got tired. I told her that I thought it was not a wise choice, but I also told her it was her choice. If she chose to wear them, that was her choice and her responsibility to see it through to the end of the hike.

No, I wasn't willing to carry an extra pair of shoes. I was already carrying water bottles, first aid, snacks, and other assorted mommy things. No, no one else would be willing to carry another pair of shoes for her, since it was her choice to start out with inadequate equipment. And as it turns out ... no, she wasn't willing to carry an extra pair either. 

Of course, she decided to wear the stupid pink flip-flops. (Did I mention that she's my headstrong one?) She agreed that she was on her own and seemed perfectly fine with it.

Gee, I'll give you one guess as to what happened. About a mile away from the car on the way back, she developed blisters. It was sheer torture for me to watch her hobble her way back to the car, alternating between going barefoot on sharp stones and wearing plastic on fresh blisters, heaving big, deep sobs. 

I got a lot of flak from friends for letting her suffer. Lots of people thought I was unduly harsh. Maybe I was. It was one of the toughest things I've done.

But you know what? From that point forward, she's always had adequate footwear for any situation. Even today, she'll pick practicality over fashion if there's a pressing need to do so. 

What's more, this one episode bled over into virtually every other potential power struggle. We virtually never have them, even now 5 years later.

But what if I'd relented at the last minute and carried her to the car? What would she have learned? For one, she would have learned that she doesn't really have to think for herself, because some authority figure will take care of her. For another, she wouldn't have learned how to be prepared for future excursions. And there are lots of other things she learned, not the least of which was that she was strong enough to power her way through a difficult situation and come out okay on the other side. She also learned that she has people who love her and will stand by her, even when she makes a stupid choice.

You know the really funny thing? Now, all these years later, she doesn't remember that episode. But the lessons she learned became so ingrained in her brain that they became a part of who she is.

There's another thing about natural/logical consequences that I think many people miss. By letting a child make a choice and live by the results, you're telling that child that you respect her. If you always are prepared for her choice to fail (e.g., if I'd sneaked in an extra pair of shoes into my backpack), then you're telling her that you didn't have faith in her. You didn't believe that she was smart enough to make a choice that would work. It's kind of like the mom who remakes the bed after their child has made it. What she's telling that kid is "your best isn't good enough." 

I want our kids to learn good choices and responsibility at an early age, when the consequences are minor, rather than have them wait until they're old enough that the consequences of poor choices can be deadly. When a young child gets a few blisters from a poor choice - even after being given all the pertinent information - she's uncomfortable for a few days. When a newly driving teenager makes poor choices - especially if she's never been given the opportunity to live with the true (natural) consequences - she or her friends could end up with consequences that will change their lives in devastating ways.

Information is power. With every natural consequence my child gets, she has learned a bit more about the world. She's added something to her storehouse of information, which I hope will serve her well through her life.

Natural and Logical Consequences

Natural consequences. Logical consequences. You hear about them all the time. What do they really mean, and what's the difference between them? I have lots of ideas about them, so it may take more than one post to get my thoughts across.

First, let's talk about what they don't mean. Most parents use the word "consequence" in a negative way, namely, to mean "punishment." A consequence isn't inherently negative, although most kids these days think of it that way. That's because what they hear is, "If you do that, Billy, there will be Consequences!!!" (Billy quivers as he thinks of what possible heinous punishment his mom is constructing in her mind.)

I hear this term thrown around all the time, in the grocery store, on the playground, even at friends' houses. 

But a consequence is merely something that happens as a result of something else happening. If an egg rolls off the edge of a table, it breaks (natural consequence) and you have to clean it up (logical consequence).

I have lots of ideas on punishment as well - mostly that I don't really believe in punishment per se, at least in the case of children learning to be adults. We used to do "time outs," just like we were told to do in all the parenting books (one minute per year, and all that), but what I found was that it simply didn't work for us. What I tell the kids all the time (ad nauseam, it seems) is that I want them to do the right thing because it's the right thing, not because I tell them to and not because they're afraid of getting caught doing the wrong thing. But before I traipse off down that diverging garden path, I'll postpone the discussion on punishment for a later post.

I could also talk a lot about our parenting strategies, but that would also be too long for this topic, so I'll just succinctly say that we tend not to have lots of hard and fast "rules," other than a few very basic ones: "Respect each other. Respect yourself. Respect our things." Except for some basic safety stuff, which mostly falls into one of those three respect rules, that's the extent of our rules. When we lay down the law that they can't do something ("stay out of the street") it's simply because of one of those rules and/or a safety issue. And we always have a reason for whatever that "rule" is, and we're happy to explain it to them.

So back to consequences. 

Let's look at natural consequences. These are the things that happen naturally, without mental intervention. If a child leaves her favorite toy on the floor, and the parent squashes it in the dark on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night, naturally the toy will get broken: natural consequence. If a child leaves her favorite toy on the floor, and the parent squashes it while running to the ringing phone, naturally the toy will get broken with an added tasty natural consequence of the parent becoming irate. (Sometimes instinctive parental anger can be an awfully motivating natural consequence.) Toy left on floor = broken toy = no toy and mad mad mom.

Now logical consequences. Personally, I would get pretty miffed if someone gave me an arbitrary punishment for some mistake I'd made or something I'd done wrong. Say I accidentally spilled my glass of red wine on the carpet. I certainly didn't intend to do that, and it doesn't mean I'm a bad person who needs to be punished. The natural consequence is that I'll be pissed off, angry at myself, disappointed that there's now a great big ugly stain on the rug, and there's a great big ugly stain on the rug. The logical consequence is that I need to clean it up and QUICKLY! If I tended to spill my red wine on the carpet every other night, the logical consequence would be that I should either get a sippy cup (there's a whole 'nother use for all those sippy cups in the back of the cabinet, right?) or drink it in the kitchen. I'd be mighty miffed if my DH decided I needed a time out (especially if it was without the wine) or needed to go to my room.

(Besides, when most kids are sent to their room or given time out, they use that time to stew about how mad they are, how humiliated they feel, or how they'll get back at brother/sister/mother/father - not how they're going to make amends and do better next time. At least this is what my children tell me.)

The point is, if the consequence (again, just a result of something else happening) is unconnected to the "crime," then there's no mental connect between the deed and the time. So, if a kid is caught stealing and is forced to make his bed for a month as the "consequence," what does he learn from that? 

Here's the kind of thing I see all the time: Kid does something that Mom doesn't like. Let's say that Kid comes home with a D on his report card because he's not doing his homework. Mom takes one look and shouts, "I've told you a hundred times to do your homework! No iPod for a month!" Huh? Where's the connect between doing homework and no music? What the mom is doing is taking away something meaningful to the kid as punishment, not as a learning tool and not as a way to resolve the problem. In this case, the natural consequence of a bad grade may not happen soon enough to be of effect (i.e., a downward academic spiral and not getting into his college of choice may be years down the road, and thus too far to be of use to the parent). So that's when logical consequences come into play.

In this case, there might be a domino effect: Kid gets a D on his report card, Kid gets bumped out of honors class in that subject and into the regular class, Kid loses interest in subject and begins to see himself as a failure, and then Kid gives up and doesn't even want to try to get into a good college and settles for a party school. Obviously, this is a natural consequence that just won't work to keep Kid on track.

The logical consequence will take some thinking on Mom's part. What's keeping Kid from turning in the homework? She'll have to talk with Kid to see what the deal is. Is he doing the homework and not turning it in? Is he not doing it at all? If he's not doing it, why not? If it's that he's spending too much time with his friends hanging out at the mall, then there's your logical consequence (less mall time). If it's that it's too difficult, then there's your logical consequence (more study time or tutor). If he's on the phone with his girlfriend, then there's your logical consequence (restricted phone time or having the girlfriend come over and study together). 

Frequently, the kid has the answer to what logical consequence will actually make a difference in stopping an undesirable behavior. I remember a few years ago when we first got a video game console. G was obsessing over it, wanting to spend every waking moment on it. I really hate being the police about stuff like that, so I talked to him. He decided that he would play only on the weekends, because he didn't want to become addicted. Now that doesn't mean that he cheerfully put away the controller when his time was up, but when I reminded him of his decision and how it seemed to be the best option, it made all the difference.

Often, natural and logical consequences go hand in hand. I remember once a couple of years ago that S became hooked on a certain ham from the deli at our local grocery store. It wasn't cheap, but it was produced locally and wasn't pumped full of chemicals, so I was willing to buy it for her. I'd just bought a pound ($10.00) and she'd made herself lunch with it. We had to leave the house immediately after lunch, and she was responsible for cleaning up after herself. You guessed it ... she left the ham on the counter and the dog ate it. (We pride ourselves on feeding our dogs well. Yeah, right.)

So she got both a natural and logical consequence. Natural: no ham for lunch the next day or any day until I went back to the grocery store the following week. Logical: she had to pay for the ham that was lost out of her own allowance (about $8.00 worth). This amounted to about two weeks' worth of her allowance. A hard lesson for a young child, but one she didn't forget. And it was hard for me to watch.

Certainly, we didn't spring this on her suddenly. We'd all talked about what would happen if this scenario occurred again (as it already had occurred a couple of times in the recent past). She hadn't been the only one not taking care of their after-lunch detritus, and it ended up being a lesson for G as well.

I guess the difference I see between traditional discipline (i.e., punishment) and natural/logical consequences is this: is your goal to help your kids succeed in the long run by learning about what works and what doesn't - which sometimes means failing in a huge way - or is it to punish them for their "bad" behavior and expect them to do "good" as the alternative? The floggings will continue until morale improves. And - and this is an important "and" - do you want your kids to do the right thing because they know that it's the right thing (even if it's not the easy thing) or do you want them to do the right thing because you told them to do it and because they're afraid of getting caught? I'm too lazy to be the police as well as the mom.

I guess it's also the difference between parent-as-authority and parent-as-life-facilitator. It takes a lot of work to facilitate learning rather than just teaching what you think they should know - it takes a ton of thinking - but the long-term results are dramatic.

I believe in giving kids tools for success, not setting them up for failure.

For one of my favorite stories on natural consequences, check in tomorrow. (For those of you who know me, don't bother ... you've heard it all before.)