The Behavior Management Thing

For the past several weeks I feel that all we have been doing is telling Parker "no," putting him in time out, and spanking his behind. Constantly. It begins on the way home from school, continues while I'm fixing dinner, then to bath time, and, basically, until the kid finally falls asleep at night. He's either fighting with Peyton, sassing one of us, banging his silverware on the table, climbing on the counters, making a mess in the bathroom sink, terrorizing the dogs, peeing in public, stripping the couches of their cushions and using them as a trampoline, swinging the bat inside the house, jumping around in the bathtub, fighting with Peyton, shooting his pop gun at the tv screen, tipping back on his chair at the dinner table, blowing bubbles in his milk with his straw, chasing Peyton around the kitchen counter, hanging on the doorknobs, or getting out of his bed for the millionth time at bed time. The kid is reverting back to behaviors that I thought we took care of two years ago.

But now he has a sassy mouth to go along with it, and has built up a tolerance for our discipline managment system.

And this discipline thing is exhausting to me.

One of my brilliantly wise friends, Jessica, told me about a marble jar discipline system that her babysitter uses. The kids fill up their jars of marbles and they get to choose a special treat, like going to a movie or getting a toy from the store or possibly getting mommy out of the house and sending her to the spa. :) I'd heard of this strategy a couple of other times, but didn't think it would really work. We've tried sticker charts with both of the kids but they have never worked.

Or I've never worked with them...I'll admit, I get as bored as the kids with just seeing a line of stickers compiled at the end of the day. I need something more.

But I had to try something because, like I said before, this discipline thing was kicking my butt. I was not enjoying going to bed every single night to face the Lord and say, "Forgive me for sucking as a parent! But I don't know what else to do with this child!"

I made up a general list of ten things that the kids could do to earn a marble. Parker helped me type up the list, and helped me define some of the what might be considered ambiguous terminology, like "respect" and "right" and "wrong." For example, they can get a marble for first time obedience, which is pretty cut and dried. I ask you to do something, you do it right away, you get a marble. Feeding the dogs, putting your dishes in the sink...easy. But "be respectful" can mean a lot of different things, especially to a three and five year old. I was thinking "please" and "thank you," "yes, ma'am" and "no, sir." Parker was thinking "no farting without saying excuse me" and "no tattle-telling."

So we all got on the same page, got our rules up, decorated our marble containers (which are actually recycle yogurt containers instead of jars), and got down to business. They were earning marbles left and right. We had our troubles here and there, but for the most part, the kids were almost fun to be around again. We started our campaign on a Thursday night, and by Sunday, both kids had their containers full of marbles. Peyton chose to go see "Monsters vs. Aliens" with Pat, and Parker chose to get a new bakugan (sp?) from the store.

When Parker and I got home from the store, I emptied their containers of all the marble they had earned.

Parker was less than thrilled about having to start over.

Later that night after Parker had helped Pat walk and feed the dogs, Pat told Parker he deserved a marble for doing the dog chores.

Instant whining.

"What's wrong, Parker? Don't you want to get marbles and earn another toy, or a trip to the movies?" Pat asked.


"No!" Parker said. "I'm tired of all this marble work!"

Some days, you just can't win.

The Prayer Thing

Growing up, I knew three basic prayers:
1. our family dinnertime prayer, which our whole family recited together before most, if not every meal together
2. the Lord's Prayer
3. the desperate "Oh, God, help me!" or some version thereof.

Then I met Pat, who added some spice and variety to my prayer life. I would just fold my hands, bow my head, and listen to his conversation with God. I was so happy that Parker and Peyton were learning this practice from their dad, too. I love that they are comfortable enough to tell God what is on their pre-school minds.

This was until we spent the majority of last summer at home in Nebraska, and we fell back into the tried and true dinnertime ritualistic prayer.

You'd think we grew up Catholic or something.

And, since Ty, their cousin, already knew this prayer, Parker and Peyton were even more determined to learn it and use it once we returned to Texas. We can't even say "Ay-men" anymore because Ty says "Aww-men."

The kid has made quite an impact on my two.

Anyway, it wasn't until a couple of months ago that the kids started to say their own prayers at our dinnertime. A couple weeks ago, while we were waiting for everyone (Parker) to calm down, sit down, and get their fingers out of their food, Parker was blah, blah, blah-ing while Peyton had her hand folded and was ready to roll.

And with the most serious look on her face, Peyton said, "Pawkaw, Jesus really doesn't want to hear that."