Emma is walking now. Unsteadily, but walking nonetheless. And quickly crawling, and climbing, and disappearing, and…. you get the idea. She also is developing an attitude… but that’s a different story. Anyway, these drastic changes at home have led to necessary changes in home management. Deborah can speak better to this of course, but since she all but hates computers, you’re stuck with me.
Emma’s crawling was manageable with gates and stacks of couch cushions – even when she became an adept and speedy crawler. (Except for that phase when everything she found in the carpet went directly in to her mouth. I swear we could vacuum for 30 minutes on super suck, put the vacuum away, and there she’d be finding tiny specks of contamination in the depths of the shag. THAT was a frustrating period of time! Thank goodness she’s past that.
But now with Emma walking and climbing, only two effective gates and three exits to cover, and two older boys to contain, we are starting a new era of kid management. The era where THEY outnumber US!
It all started one peaceful day when Luke and I were upstairs learning about computers, and Deborah was changing Jordan’s diaper, with Emma contently crawling around eating toxic particles from the depth of the couch. Deborah and I had just finished a conversation about watching Emma more closely. I can’t remember the details since I am first starting to experience the symptoms of aging, but that’s yet another story.
Luke and I were printing when we heard Emma’s cheerful voice in the toy room. Upon hearing Emma, I quickly retorted to Deborah that it was “real funny” to dump Emma on me after our previous discussion. (that I still can’t remember, but has some significance to the whole story) I heard no response. Then I called to Deb to get her attention. Still no response.
Suspecting some cruel surprise attack, I crept out into the toy room to discover Emma happily finding small choking hazards among the toys. I was ready call downstairs to Deborah again when she asked in a somewhat concerned voice if I had Emma upstairs with me. I again quickly retorted with a laughing “Yeah. You know I do since you brought her up here.” Deb responded that she did not bring Emma up there. After a mini Spanish Inquisitionesque scene I realized Deborah was telling the truth. We realized – together – that Emma had just crawled up the stairs all by herself.
That was just the beginning.
Now that we’re outnumbered, we have few options. Cloning is too controversial – besides, who wants another me running around? Transmogrification is only in cartoons, and holographic image projection technology is not quite perfected yet – though they do make cool post cards.
Deborah would actually say that we do not need any options. That she can – and DOES – manage the kids on a daily basis without too much incident. That is all well and good for her. BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?!? I’m not that great at child management – not like her anyway. I’d say that I’m slightly better than Larry and Moe, and probably Curly and Shemp, but I’m a far cry from having Deb’s abilities in child management.
After voicing these concerns, Deborah suggested that she provide me with some training to help me feel more comfortable with taking care of our hooligans. Training started out right in the thick of what it’s all about. Deborah cut right to the chase on what I need to do.
Her first topic was containment. After explaining to me what that was, she went on to explain that I underutilize that management tool in taking care of the kids. She’s right of course. She can get out of the house in 10 minutes with all three starting from pajamas – where it takes me 45 minutes – by utilizing such unique and helpful tools as the highchair, and timing dressings so that the kids are dressed by the time they leave the changing table, and not a moment later. Unfortunately, the latter of these hints causes forethought – a skill I do not possess.
Distraction was the second topic. This is a hard one for me since psychologists – as well as the wife I am married to – strongly DO NOT recommend using TV or candy as a distraction. What’s worse, Deb says that the key to distraction is by utilizing organized activities with defined roles. I have about as much organization as I do forethought. I wish Deborah would write a book. That or have cue cards for me to refer to when distressed. Cue cards with big letters that read easy like, “Read Them Books.” That would be helpful to me!
After that we talked about incentives for good behavior. Another word for this is bribery. In our home we have Mommy incentives and Daddy incentives. Mommy incentives are things like going to the library, reading books, and going to the grocery store. (The kids LOVE that one since they are about guaranteed a cookie from the Hy-Vee bakery and a sucker at the checkout counter)
You’re wondering about Daddy incentives, aren’t you? Well, they’re not so glamorous. Wrestling, playing hockey or basketball outdoors, or going to see the cows are the top picks. I have yet to figure out how these incentives can actually be used to manage the kids better. It seems to me that the incentives I offer get them so excited that their need to dissipate the excess energy far outweighs their need to listen and be in control. So I tend to shy away from the incentives and focus more on threats and consequences.
Now, I’m not the typical father, so my consequences are not the usual spanking, time out, loss of books before bedtime, etc. My consequences are far more serious; lecture (complete with overheads), mowing the lawn, and taking them bird watching with me. Of the three, they shake in fear most at the mention of bird watching. They know I’m serious when that consequences gets thrown out.
The only problem with the consequence approach is that as soon as I mention it, the kids scatter all over the house. Trying to round them up is next to impossible since I usually forget about containment of one when I’m after another. This – again – makes me have to be three places at once.
Most times I can’t win. I’m glad that most times I don’t try to win.