That’s the way it is with him.

 

thewayitis2

An interesting thing happens every time I fill out a medical history, behavioral questionnaire, or sensory checklist for my younger son, which coincidentally happens a lot these days. I think about my other son. I think about how I would answer the same questions for him. My firstborn son will always be patient zero.

It’s not that I don’t lose sleep over my younger son. Believe me, I do. I worry about him a lot. I wish I’d intervened sooner, I’m concerned about how his anxiety and sensory challenges are affecting him socially and academically, and I’m anxious about what future therapies he might need, but at the end of each day, I’m confident in our path and my ability to advocate on his behalf.

There’s an ease with which I’ve handled his diagnosis that I suppose comes naturally from having been through it once before. As soon as his symptoms erupted last fall, I knew what to do, where to go, who to talk to, and what to expect.

With my older son – with patient zero – it’s different. Ease and confidence aren’t words I would ever use to describe the experience I’ve had with him. Fear and doubt are much more accurate. His sensory history has been like a never-ending game of whack-a-mole. As soon as we address one challenge, another one pops up, and each one must be faced with strong intuition and bold action, of which I have none. Not with him. With him, I never know if I’m doing the right thing.

I often have a recurring dream where I’m back in high school and I either have an exam for which I didn’t study or I don’t know how to find my classroom. I’m lost, unprepared, and bound to fall short. All my life – with school, jobs, dance, writing, family, and friends – I’ve been afraid to disappoint, and the stakes were never higher than when I became a mother, a journey that began long before I held a baby in my arms. I can’t think of more profound feeling of failure in my life than when my body proved incapable of making a baby. The eventual birth of my first son, after such a colossal loss and a difficult pregnancy to boot, was nothing short of miraculous. In exchange for the gift of his life, my offering in return was a promise to never fail him.

Motherhood is a daily practice that over time builds strength and self-assurance, but no matter how seasoned I’ve become, I’m always uncertain with him. He’s my patient zero and my ground zero. He’ll always have the honor of being the boy who made me a mommy and the burden of being the beneficiary of a pledge I’m terrified I can’t keep.

Today, he is the subject of paperwork I’m filling out in a waiting room, because there’s another mole to whack. As he disappears into a small room for a new evaluation, I’m keenly aware that I can’t catch my breath. It’s okay. I’m used to it now, because that’s the way it is with him.

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Filed under anxiety, motherhood, sensory processing disorder

Pay Day

I’ve finally done it. I’ve given my kids chores. I’ve put it off for a long time partly because I have a hard time sticking to parenting experiments that involve sticker charts, incentives, and rewards (i.e. I’m lazy) and mostly because I can do all of the work faster and better. Anyone who knows me well knows not to load my dishwasher because I will unload and reload it my way (i.e. the right way).

But it’s time. I’m sure of it because as often as I preach gratitude to my kids, I don’t often see it in action. I’m tired of their constant wants, and I’m sick of cleaning up the clutter of things (that I buy for no justifiable reason) that bring them instant and fleeting gratification but no long-lasting joy. I want to teach them that happiness doesn’t come from a plastic toy in a blind bag, that money has financial and moral value, and that the true reward for a job well done is in the earning rather than the spending of money. That, and I want to distract them from Minecraft and YouTube for a little while each day. Also, I’d like them to aim better when they pee, and I can’t think of a better way to do that than to make them clean the toilets.

So, here’s my system for now.

The Basics

basics

It’s baby steps over here for my kids who have never lifted a finger in the house. I admit I’m using the chores as a way to get them to take responsibility for tasks that have nothing to do with cleaning, like brushing their teeth, reading, and playing with the dog, but once these “jobs” become ingrained in their routine and I no longer have to threaten that their teeth will rot by middle school, I’ll up the ante. Also, once school starts, I’ll add tasks related to backpack and homework organization.

The Chore Cup

chorecup

After they finish the basics, they pick one chore stick from the chore cup. They actually love the chore cup (so far), because it feels like a game. In fact, they beg to pick their chore stick for the next day as soon as they finish their current one. I only have two rules with the chore cup: (1) you can’t keep picking sticks until you get a chore you want and (2) you don’t have to do the same chore twice in one week. The chores in the Chore Cup are basic age-appropriate tasks that range from cleaning bathroom surfaces to putting folded laundry away to sweeping floors.

The Supplies

supplies

I filled an easy to access cleaning bucket with everything they need to get the chores done, including multipurpose cleaners, paper towels, trash bags, and Swiffer dusters and sweepers, They also have access to the handheld vacuum and the Swiffer. Nothing is difficult to operate and everything is safe for their ages.

Overall, the boys are doing great. Watching them make their beds has been hilarious. Their bed-making styles match their personalities to a T! Riley is meticulous, but it takes him about an hour, and by the time he finishes, he’s sweaty and out of breath. Dylan, on the other hand, is pure chaos. In fact, his bed looks neater before he attempts to make it than when he’s done. Of course, I want to step in and reload the dishwasher, so to speak, but I’m practicing restraint because if I step in, I’ll end up doing it for him and that will defeat the purpose. Instead, I’ve stuck to brief tutorials and provided some useful tips, like that it’s easier to make a bed when you’re not jumping on it. Otherwise, they’re accountable for their work and their chores are inspected daily.

This week, Riley cleaned his room, put away his laundry, vacuumed the stairs (with assistance), took out the trash, and collected cups and dishes. Dylan had some tough assignments, too. He organized the shoe rack by the front door, which is an endless task in our house, cleared the clutter from and cleaned the kitchen table, which is another endless task in our house, dusted, and cleaned two toilets! Poor kid. He picked two separate bathroom sticks. Since the bathrooms are labeled #1 and #2, it didn’t count as a repeat chore.

Today is Pay Day and they’ve each earned their first $5. Of course, Riley wants to take his money straight to the toy store, but that’s okay…for now. Next up on my parenting to do list is to introduce the boys to the save/spend/donate ratio, but one step at a time, remember? It’s only been five days, and it’s quite possible that this “game” will get old, but so far we’re all reaping the benefits of their hard work. Not only are they brushing their teeth and reading (hallelujah!), but also they’re taking pride in their work, practicing fine motor skills, and building confidence. It might be wishful thinking on my part, but I think their aim has improved, too.

Do your kids do chores around the house?

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Filed under boys, chore chart, chores, parenting