Hard Work Never Hurt Nobody (or How We Get Our Kids to Work)

We have a saying around our house.  The kids have heard it at least a hundred times, and I'm sure that by the time we're done raising our children, we'll have said it at least a thousand times.  "If you're going to be a part of this family, then you're going to have to help!"  Our boys are expected to work hard and help out--around the house, at the barn, and wherever else someone may need them.  There's too much to do around here for just two people to do.  The boys do a multitude of chores from big tasks like watering, feeding baby goats, sweeping the barn, cleaning out the dog pen to little tasks like making their bed, clearing the table, picking up their toys, and putting their clean clothes away.  As Gideon has gotten older, it's been exciting to see the new things he's capable of doing, and watching the boys all work together to accomplish harder tasks.  Not to mention, it's a relief to not have to do everything myself!  So how do we encourage helpfulness and a strong work ethic in our boys?  What are some things that have worked for us?  Here are five things we do to help our children learn the importance of helping and working:

1. Have Patience
I'm a perfectionist.  I'm also always in a hurry.  But, to include your kids you have to lower your standards and slow down.  Lincoln is almost four, but he loves to help.  In the winter, when he can't be outside (his favorite place), he loves to help me in the kitchen.  He also loves to make a mess and is the slowest mover of all of our children.  So when Lincoln "helps" me in the kitchen, he more often than not creates more work for me or makes me take twice as long.  None of this really matters.  What matters is the lessons I teach him, as I grit my teeth, and (semi) patiently watch him fill a measuring cup with flour (and cover the counter, and the floor, and his clothes).  He's not just learning how to make supper.  He's learning that he's important to me; that there's room for him to make mistakes and learn; that his help is valuable to me.  Teaching my kids tasks is sometimes exhausting.  They will break things.  They will totally mess it up.  It takes a lot longer than if I just did it myself.  But teaching them independence is so much more important than whether or not they got their covers completely wrinkle-free when they made their beds.

2. Encourage, encourage, encourage!
When the boys complete a task, even if it's not done perfectly, we thank them and tell them they did a good job.  Nothing is more demoralizing than completing a task (especially one you might not have wanted to do in the first place), and then being told all the things you did wrong.  So we always tell our boys thank you for helping.  We also tell them they did a good job.  If they're struggling, or they did a sloppy job, I may offer suggestions for how they can do something more easily, but that's it.  I refuse to swoop in, sigh, and say, "Just let me do it."  Or, "Hey, you missed a spot over here, here, here and here."  Yes, we have to train our boys so that they know how to set the table, clean the bathroom sink, or feed baby goats.  But, if we always meet their accomplishments with criticism, our boys will just give up before they've even started.  Hearing encouragement (even when they don't do things perfectly) helps foster in them a helpful spirit, a strong self-esteem, and courage to try new things.

3. Make things easier for them
Lincoln feeds the baby goats.  He gets their little feed pans our of their pen, brings them to the milk room, fills them with feed, and then takes them back to the kid pen.  But, he couldn't climb the fence into the pen while holding the pans of feed, so he always had to set them down and let me finish his task.  One day, I went to do this, when I realized the goat kids were sticking their heads through the hole in the wire fence and eating out of the pan.  Lincoln didn't need to put the pans back in the pen!  I was making it way to difficult.  Now, I just let him set the pans right outside their pen.  The kids get fed, and Lincoln can complete this task 100% by himself.  The problem wasn't him; it was my method.  So I made things easier for him.  My kids sometimes would get up while I was still in the shower, and some mornings they wanted to get their own cereal (when we have it).  But they couldn't reach the bowls.  So I moved them from the top of the cabinet to under the sink.  So now, they can get their own cereal.  I put a row of hooks at just their height in the laundry room, along with a shelf with cubby holes for all their shoes.  When we come home, now they can, and are expected to, hang up their own coat, and put away their own shoes.  The problem isn't always that my boys aren't capable of something, but that I just need to change one part of the process to make it easier for them to accomplish.  Sometimes, I must step aside and think, "How can I make this easier for their little hands, legs, and bodies?"

4. Expect their help
I have too often been guilty of thinking that my kids weren't old enough or capable enough to accomplish a task.  Then I realized, I was the reason they weren't being more helpful.  When I started thinking they could complete certain tasks and expecting them to do certain things, I realized that they all got a lot more helpful.  Gideon has had the job of watering the goats for a while now.  When we do the milking, he does the watering.  But there's one pen I always do.  Right now, we have one goat penned up alone.  I water her, because I have to open the door to her pen, and stand in the way to keep her from getting out while I fill up her water bucket.  Last night, I made Gideon do it.  I was milking, and I heard him say, "Shocker's out!"  I expected him to call for help.  But he put her back in the pen, filled up her bucket, and shut the door, all by himself.  He did it because I expected him to.  All this time, I've been doing it for him, but all I had to do was let him try it.  I find that my boys usually pleasantly surprise me with all that are actually capable of doing, if I just give them a chance.

5. Reward them
Right now, we pay our children randomly for more difficult jobs that they get done.  When they get a little older, they'll receive a weekly "salary" for the work they do.  This money is not only a reward, but also a way to teach them how to handle their finances, how to save, and how to give.  We also reward with certain privileges, surprises, and I will shamelessly admit it--candy.  Our boys work hard, but they aren't slaves.  Some things don't receive a reward.  There are some things in life that have to be done, whether or not we receive a reward or even a thank you.  But, for the times when they complete an extra difficult job or consistently do a good job or have a good attitude while completely a mundane task, rewards are well-deserved.

There's our five tips for helping kids work.  Does the fact I have this nice, neat list mean that my kids do the same exact tasks, at the same time every day?  No.  Does this mean that my kids are always eager and ready to help out?  Ummm, no.  Does this mean that we never have to fight one or two or all of them tooth and nail to get them to complete something as simple as putting their plate in the sink?  A definite and resounding, NO.  Yes, my kids are big helpers and hard workers.  Yes, they do more at their age than I ever thought possible, but they are still little kids, and we struggle through consistency, bad attitudes, and uncompleted tasks.  But we're laying a foundation for the kids, teenagers, and adults that we pray they'll become--responsible, hard-working, self-reliant ones.

Now, some of you may have gotten to the end of this, and think that Greg and I must be terrible taskmasters who use our children as nothing but slave labor.  So, I'll tell you a funny story to lighten the mood.  One day, Gideon had finished shoveling out the dog's pen and re-bedding it with new straw.  Greg was discussing his payment with him.

Greg: I'll give you a dollar for cleaning out the pen.
Gideon:  No, how about five dollars?
Greg: Five whole dollars?
Me: That is an awful big chore for a 5 year old to do.  You should at least give him two dollars.  (I'm so generous, I know.)
Gideon: How about thirty dollars?
Greg: Thirty dollars?  You're way too expensive.  You're fired!  Lincoln, will you work for two dollars?
Lincoln: No!  Seventeen dollars!!
Greg: Seventeen?!  You're fired too.  Canaan?  Will you work for two dollars?
Canaan: SEV'TEEN!!

Hey, I may be shamelessly raising them to do all my work, but at least I'm not raising any dummies!

It's not you, it's ME.

I've been noticing something lately.  I read a lot of internet articles, see a lot of the things my female friends are posting on Facebook, hear comments from a lot of women, and I've noticed one thing.

 

Every single one of us feels judged.

We feel judged because we’re married, judged because we’re single, judged because we married young, judged because we married old, judged because we have one kid, judged because we have a lot of kids, judged because we homeschool, judged because we send our kids to public school, judged because we vaccinate, judged because we don’t vaccinate, judged because we breastfed, judged because we formula fed, judged because we’re stay-at-home moms, judged because we go to work.  I mean seriously, I have read an article from some woman pouring her heart out, defending her decision to do every single one of these things.  And I have just one thing to say.

Let’s stop.  Just stop.  Now. 

You see, I don’t think the actual problem is that we’re all judging each other’s decisions.  I think the problem with this "I feel judged by everybody because I live my life soooo differently than everyone else's" feeling, mainly comes from one person:  ourselves.  I think a lot of the problem (and I’m admitting this because it’s MY main problem) with the mommy wars, and women wars in general, is our own insecurity within ourselves.  It’s our own selfish, inward focus.  I personally have this problem.  I will be the first to admit it.  Someone posts an article about their decision to send their kids to public school.  Obviously, this friend on Facebook, whom I have actually spoken to once in real life in the past five years, posted that just for me to read, because she wants to point out how horrible I am for homeschooling my kids.  And then I read the article, and I think, maybe not even out loud, but subconsciously, “Am I really making the right decision to homeschool?  Am I scarring them for life?”  And so I take it as an attack.  Except, this person isn't even attacking me, or anyone else for that matter, she’s merely highlighting what worked for her and why.  But my own insecurities take it as an attack, and so what do I have to do to make myself feel better?  Tear that woman down.  Because my insecurity says, "I cannot be valuable, unless someone else is invaluable.  My decisions are not valid, unless someone else's are invalid."  And this my friends, is absurd.  It is ridiculous, and it is what makes women tear each other down, and hurt each other, and feel the need to defend every. little. thing. we. do.   

And so I’m asking, can we agree to stop?  Not stop tearing each other down, not stop posting articles supporting our decisions, but let’s stop wallowing in the pit of selfishness and self-doubt.  Let’s all say, “I am not going to give in to my insecurity.  I am a child of God.  I am loved just because I am a person.  Nothing I do is going to make me be loved any more or any less.”  Because when I rest in that, in the confidence that no matter what I do—good or bad—no matter what I achieve, no matter what I choose for my family, no matter what anyone else is doing, I am valuable.  And I think when I rest in that, I realize that most people aren't attacking me.  In fact, most people aren't even thinking of me at all.

So today, I’m saying to you: I don’t care if we have totally different parenting or life philosophies.  I don’t care if our choices seem vehemently opposed.  You are loved.  You are valuable.  And as long as your decisions are motivated by your love for your family and yourself, and not a desire to one-up the woman beside you, then that’s all that matters.  I will not take your decisions as an attack on mine, rather I will celebrate the differences that God made in all of us.  And I promise I will not validate my decisions by invalidating yours—not out loud, not on Facebook, not even in my head.  Because I am loved and valuable too…and I have my own issues to worry about, without worrying about yours.

Parenthood lesson #576: My children really are listening

Gideon is my oldest son.  He is one of the sweetest little boys I know; he's super affectionate, free with compliments ("You're beautiful today Mommy!" is my favorite), funny, smart as a whip, he hears everything and forgets nothing.  However, Gideon is also a perfectionist, high strung, strong-willed, and a little OCD.  He likes things ordered and organized, and when things fail to go the way he's planned, he has trouble adjusting, which usually results in minor and major meltdowns and turns my sweet Gideon into a giant bear.  We've tried many things to discourage this type of behavior, some successful and some not.  One of our solutions is to always compliment Gideon's good behavior.  We always try to praise him for the times when he handles disappointments without tears and fussing.  Often though, when we give him a compliment like "Thank you for being such a good boy today," he responds with "No I wasn't".  Gideon's attitude has been the most frustrating and difficult thing for me to deal with as a parent.  Its root goes straight to his heart, and I know we've got to take hold of it and mold it into a heart that desires to obey before it takes hold of him.  We often talk to Gideon about how his heart is like a garden, and he can let weeds (bad attitude) grow or flowers (good attitude) grow.  But often I wonder if anything I'm saying or doing is making a difference in him.  Is he hearing what I'm saying?  Am I doing anything to effectively reach him?  Will he ever stop throwing a temper tantrum every time I ask him to do something he doesn't want to do?

My sweet Gideon, loving on his baby brother

Then, on Saturday I took the boys by myself to a family get-together.  We stayed most of the afternoon, which means Gideon didn't get a nap in, and even at almost 5 years old, Gideon requires a nap most days or he is even more volatile than normal.  So, I was really dreading the moment when I had to say it was time to go.  I just knew that I would end up trying to get two boys and a baby down the street and into the car while dragging a kicking and screaming Gideon.  Yet, when I said it was time to go, he calmly got his shoes on, said goodbye, and walked out.  He got into the Excursion, buckled his seat belt, and didn't even whimper.  After everyone was loaded, and we were on our way, Gideon suddenly piped up, "Aren't you proud of me?"  I answered with a resounding, "YES!"  Not only was I so proud of him for not throwing a fit, but proud of him for being aware of his good behavior.  I was so proud of him for wanting to obey and please.  I was also almost moved to tears of thankfulness.  Finally! I had proof that we were in fact getting through to him.  Even when it seems that he is completely unmovable and unrelenting, even when I think I am in fact doing more harm than good, there is a part of my guidance that is slowly seeping through to his core.

My stubborn Gideon

So parents, I give you this encouragement:  Even when you think you're not getting through to your kids, you probably are.  Even when you think they're not listening to anything you're saying, they are hearing what you say.  Even when it seems that they will never understand, they will come around.  Parenting is a marathon, not a sprint, so don't give up, even when it seems you're accomplishing nothing.  It is trying, frustrating, and exhausting having children, but I wouldn't trade being Gideon's momma for the world, and I'm so thankful for the little glimpse God gave me of the person Gideon is becoming.  And I realize that as much as I'm trying to refine and mold my children, God is using them to mold me--a fact I take much comfort in during the times when Gideon is screaming at the top of his lungs in the grocery parking lot.  So thank you Father for letting us watch our children learn and grow.  Even when it is harrowing and daunting, it is still a privilege to call them mine.