Sir Isaac Newton’s First Law of [Parenting]: A [child] at rest tends to stay at rest. If it is in motion, it tends to stay in motion with the same [lethargy] and in the same direction [toward the TV or the video game] unless acted upon by a sum of forces [of the engaged parents].
You must be the sum of forces!
My kids were allergic to chores. They still are, but the allergy has weakened through the years, mostly because of something we call Cartoon Sunday Morning. Every Sunday morning is chore time, punctuated by one hour of screen time. It’s expected. It’s every Sunday. It’s a waste of time to resist.
Everyone (except my wife who works on Sunday) is required to choose a chore on Cartoon Sunday Morning. When the chores are done, one hour of screen time is granted.
(The kids used to reward themselves with Loony Toons, but their tastes have matured. They want Wii time and reruns of Get Smart, Murder She Wrote, and The Munsters on Netflix. We still, however, refer to chore time as “Cartoon Sunday Morning.”)
Newton’s Second Law of [Parenting]: Whenever a first body [of dad] exerts a force on a second body [of child], the second body exerts an equal and opposite force on the first body. [Better known as attitude.]
Action Items: when you’re trying to motivate your kids, consider “pulling” rather than “pushing.”
A pushing lecture goes something like this: “Johnny, you’ve been playing that video game all day. I work so hard. You’re taking what you’ve got for granted. You’re required to do so little, and you don’t even do that. Now get to work. Sweep that floor!”
First, if your child is spending the whole day playing video games then you’re the problem, not your child. (See Things to Do with Your Kids.) Second, when you deliver a pushing lecture you’re sending a horrible message loud and clear: “You, my spoiled brat, are lazy.” And the last thing you want your child to do is agree with that. When a child agrees that he or she is lazy, a monster emerges. The child turns the damaging message against the parent via slothery and negativism, resulting in gridlock and grind. The worst case scenario; the child actually bears the “lazy” cross and enters young adulthood with a detrimental mis-self-apperception.
A pulling lecture goes something like this: “Johnny, I think you’re forgetting how important you are to the family. We need your help. You’re not being yourself. You’re usually such a hard worker. We need you to contribute. Here’s the broom. Get started.”
The voice is the same, the energy is the same, and you’re experiencing the same level of exasperation. But you’ve put yourself in a heads-I-win-tails-I-win situation. You’re arguing that your child is important and hardworking by nature. The sluggishness du jour is out of character, and your child is important! If your argument gains traction, then the floor gets swept. If the child resists, you’ve managed to plant a positive message, at the very least. Parental win-win if you’re looking at the big picture.
With the pulling lecture, you have also managed to put your child in an untenable position. If my son Max, for example, rejects my argument that he’s important and usually ambitious, he has to argue something like this: “No, dad. You’re wrong. I’m actually unimportant, and I’m lazier than you could possibly imagine.”
Remember, as the father, you speak for the world view. Your child should think the world perceives him or her as ambitious and able. And who cares if the floor gets swept anyway?
(Also, don't forget that the child's brain, especially the adolescent brain, is changing at a gargantuan rate. Millions of synopses are forming, millions of new connections and passageways every day. Kids need more sleep because their brains aren't solidified, like ours! It might not be laziness that you're dealing with. KIDS NEED MORE SLEEP THAN ADULTS!)
copiwrite B. A. F.
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