Whoever invented “grounding” as a form of behavior modification for children was probably not the mother, the nanny or the primary caregiver, whichever the case may be. In the case of my family, it was me, the mother.
The errant inventor was probably a behaviorist who had no kids and who sat in a soundproof, air-conditioned, child-free, dust-free environment and postulated that if a kid were cooped up in the house with his mother for a week, it would certainly change someone’s behavior. He was right.
I began to change into a really irrational person. After only a day or two I started wondering just who was being punished and tried thinking of ways to get out of the grounding.
After all, I was not the one who messed up. In one instance, short of grounding, I threatened to change the kid’s last name and let him move in with the neighbors. When that didn’t work, I threatened to change mine. It would be easier than changing the kid’s behavior.
When I ran out of threats, I grounded him. A little alarm went off somewhere in the back of my mind. But it didn’t ring soon enough or loud enough.
This kid should have grown up to be an arbitrator. When it came to dealing and compromising, he made Benjamin Franklin look like a rookie.
This is how it goes on Day One:
He shows up after school with a couple of friends in tow and says, “Mom, we are going outside and ride bikes, okay? I made my bed this morning.”
His reference to his voluntary act of pulling up the covers by yanking on one corner and then foul-shooting the pillow towards the head of the bed was all it took for me to temporarily forget that it is Day One. So I say something useful like, “Okay, be careful.”
An hour later I remember what day it is, but by then the kid is riding in the next county.
If I want to maintain a sense of control and an absence of guilt, I have to go find him which takes a while.
Then the arbitration procedures begin.
“I don’t have anything to do. I can’t play games because it is boring to play by myself, and I can’t watch TV because no good shows are on.”
“Go read your book.”
“I can’t. I left it at school”
“Go play with your trucks.”
“That’s no fun.”
“You go find something to do. Being grounded is not supposed to be fun.”
(Time passes—two whole minutes.)
“I’ll just go sit on the back porch and play with the dog.”
“Okay, but you can’t play with any friends.”
He won that point, so he assumes a new stance:
“Mom this isn’t any fun. I’m going to play in the back yard.” (The back yard is full of kids.)
“Do you know what it means to be grounded?”
“It means I can’t play with my friends.”
“Right.”
“I’m not going to play with my friends; I’m going to play with someone else’s friends.”
“What? No.”
“Well, if I can be ungrounded today, I will be grounded for two more days next week.”
“No.”
“Three more days?”
“Absolutely not.”
Now I can’t fit the rest of Day One’s dialogue into a single column, but you get the point. I do remember saying that grounding wasn’t supposed to be any fun. Believe me, it was not. But I never learned.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Smart old wives' tales
As I was wondering about some of the good old superstitious notions (sometimes called old wives’ tales) that have prevailed through the centuries, and pondering how anyone could ever really believe them, I hit upon this breakthrough:
I don’t know about the rest of the population, but the old wives didn’t really believe such things. It was merely advantageous to promote them.
So here are some old wives’ tales, invented, quoted or perpetuated by “smart” old wives.
Just so you know, I have recited the occasional O.W.T. myself and at this point in my life I have enough years on me to have earned the privilege.
1. It’s bad luck to open an umbrella in the house. What the old wife really had in mind: put that umbrella away unless or until it rains.
2. Handling toads will give you warts. What she means: don’t you bring that creepy thing anywhere near me.
3. Breaking a mirror will bring seven years of bad luck: quit dragging that thing around and put it where it belongs.
4. Never walk under a ladder: let’s put that thing away and not leave it out where the neighbors can see it or I can trip on it.
5. Find a penny, pick it up; all the day you’ll have good luck: maybe someone will gather up all the pennies lying around the house.
6. Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise (I am sure that the really smart old wives change the indirect object from “man” to “kid” and leave out the part about early to rise.): you kids go to bed and give me some peace.
7. Children should be seen and not heard: you kids pipe down; I’m getting a headache.
8. An apple a day keeps the doctor away: somebody eat these things up so I won’t have to make something out of them.
9. Eating dough makes you sick to your stomach: I made this dough and either I am going to eat it, or I am going to bake it.
10. Putting shoes on a table brings bad luck: I really don’t want to eat on this table after your shoes have been there.
Hang in there, wives. I know kids are pretty sophisticated and probably not very superstitious these days, but don’t give up control because of it.
If kids are rejecting these old wives’ tales, you just have to be a step ahead of them. You can probably think of something on the spot. How about “toads could carry West Nile virus” or “these sharp things on umbrellas could poke your eye out”? (Now that’s a new one.)
I actually did a little bit of research while writing this. I hadn’t hit my usual 500 words yet and thought I needed a little more material. So I came across this dandy old wives’ tale (maybe someone can explain it to me.)
“If you have chills up and down your back, it means someone is walking on your grave.” Last time I checked I didn’t have a grave for anyone to walk upon, and if I did, I wouldn’t be having chills; however the person doing the walking might.
It reminds me of the quote by the great baseball player and philosopher, Yogi Berra, who is neither an old wife nor dead, “Always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise they won’t go to yours,” and smart old wife that I am, I’m not sure what he meant.
I don’t know about the rest of the population, but the old wives didn’t really believe such things. It was merely advantageous to promote them.
So here are some old wives’ tales, invented, quoted or perpetuated by “smart” old wives.
Just so you know, I have recited the occasional O.W.T. myself and at this point in my life I have enough years on me to have earned the privilege.
1. It’s bad luck to open an umbrella in the house. What the old wife really had in mind: put that umbrella away unless or until it rains.
2. Handling toads will give you warts. What she means: don’t you bring that creepy thing anywhere near me.
3. Breaking a mirror will bring seven years of bad luck: quit dragging that thing around and put it where it belongs.
4. Never walk under a ladder: let’s put that thing away and not leave it out where the neighbors can see it or I can trip on it.
5. Find a penny, pick it up; all the day you’ll have good luck: maybe someone will gather up all the pennies lying around the house.
6. Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise (I am sure that the really smart old wives change the indirect object from “man” to “kid” and leave out the part about early to rise.): you kids go to bed and give me some peace.
7. Children should be seen and not heard: you kids pipe down; I’m getting a headache.
8. An apple a day keeps the doctor away: somebody eat these things up so I won’t have to make something out of them.
9. Eating dough makes you sick to your stomach: I made this dough and either I am going to eat it, or I am going to bake it.
10. Putting shoes on a table brings bad luck: I really don’t want to eat on this table after your shoes have been there.
Hang in there, wives. I know kids are pretty sophisticated and probably not very superstitious these days, but don’t give up control because of it.
If kids are rejecting these old wives’ tales, you just have to be a step ahead of them. You can probably think of something on the spot. How about “toads could carry West Nile virus” or “these sharp things on umbrellas could poke your eye out”? (Now that’s a new one.)
I actually did a little bit of research while writing this. I hadn’t hit my usual 500 words yet and thought I needed a little more material. So I came across this dandy old wives’ tale (maybe someone can explain it to me.)
“If you have chills up and down your back, it means someone is walking on your grave.” Last time I checked I didn’t have a grave for anyone to walk upon, and if I did, I wouldn’t be having chills; however the person doing the walking might.
It reminds me of the quote by the great baseball player and philosopher, Yogi Berra, who is neither an old wife nor dead, “Always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise they won’t go to yours,” and smart old wife that I am, I’m not sure what he meant.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
I was conned by the best
At the risk of sounding dusty and nostalgic by writing about the old days, I am going to reach back into the dim past to the years when all of my kids were still at home and I was trying to keep the family functioning and the household solvent.
But with my kids, I didn’t have a chance. They were con artists. I don’t know how they got to be con persons. (Back then it was okay to call all of them “con men” regardless of their gender.) They didn’t learn it from me. I can’t even spin about what time we are having dinner. But they could talk a golf pro out of his clubs.
This is how they ran the trip-to-the-water-slide scam:
“Mom, can we go to the water slide today? Okay, hey you guys (loud enough for the neighbors to hear), we’re going to the water slide! Everybody get ready. I get the blue beach towel. We’re leaving at one o’clock. Mom, I’m inviting three friends.”
In case you didn’t notice, this was a one-sided conversation. It took only one set of quotation marks to repeat it. There aren’t any other sets because I wasn’t allowed to participate. I barely collected my senses in time to grab the phone out of the kid’s hand and say, “No you’re not. You’re only inviting two friends.”
Here is how I remember that the get-a-new-toy swindle worked:
“Mom, if I get all of my work done can we go to the store and look at baseball cards? I have my own money.”
“All right then, get your work done, and I’m going to check it.”
The mistake I made was in picking up on the “work” part of the proposal. I felt pretty safe because there was a ninety-to-one chance that he wouldn’t get his work done until after the stores were closed three days later. And the part about his having his own money didn’t escape me either.
But about an hour later I was confronted with a clean room and a deal I made. So we went to the card store, and the kid looked at the cards and picked out a few packs, all the while reminding me that he had brushed his teeth three times the day before, didn’t get any Legos for his birthday the year before, and that he got a couple of “As” on his first-grade report card.
When we got to the checkout counter, after the cards were rung up, the trap was sprung. “That will be $6.79, please.”
“Okay, where’s your money?”
“All my money’s in the bank. You know that, Mom; you made me put it there. Remember?”
(I don’t think, to this day, that I have been paid back.)
Then there was the get-a-ride-home-from-anywhere hijack which went like this:
I got a phone call, usually after my bedtime.
“Mom, can you come and get us?’
“I thought you were getting a ride home with your cousin.”
“He had to go to work.”
“Well, you will have to walk home then.” (We didn’t live twenty miles from town then.)
“Mom, we can’t walk home in the dark. Somebody might kidnap us. What are you going to tell Suzie’s mom if we get kidnapped?”
I know—it was tempting.)
At least I didn’t say that those were the good old days.
Okay, I know what you are thinking—that I deserved what I got. I should have been smarter or at least tougher than the kids. In my own defense, I can say none of them grew up to be actual con men. I think that they are all dumber than their own kids though.
But with my kids, I didn’t have a chance. They were con artists. I don’t know how they got to be con persons. (Back then it was okay to call all of them “con men” regardless of their gender.) They didn’t learn it from me. I can’t even spin about what time we are having dinner. But they could talk a golf pro out of his clubs.
This is how they ran the trip-to-the-water-slide scam:
“Mom, can we go to the water slide today? Okay, hey you guys (loud enough for the neighbors to hear), we’re going to the water slide! Everybody get ready. I get the blue beach towel. We’re leaving at one o’clock. Mom, I’m inviting three friends.”
In case you didn’t notice, this was a one-sided conversation. It took only one set of quotation marks to repeat it. There aren’t any other sets because I wasn’t allowed to participate. I barely collected my senses in time to grab the phone out of the kid’s hand and say, “No you’re not. You’re only inviting two friends.”
Here is how I remember that the get-a-new-toy swindle worked:
“Mom, if I get all of my work done can we go to the store and look at baseball cards? I have my own money.”
“All right then, get your work done, and I’m going to check it.”
The mistake I made was in picking up on the “work” part of the proposal. I felt pretty safe because there was a ninety-to-one chance that he wouldn’t get his work done until after the stores were closed three days later. And the part about his having his own money didn’t escape me either.
But about an hour later I was confronted with a clean room and a deal I made. So we went to the card store, and the kid looked at the cards and picked out a few packs, all the while reminding me that he had brushed his teeth three times the day before, didn’t get any Legos for his birthday the year before, and that he got a couple of “As” on his first-grade report card.
When we got to the checkout counter, after the cards were rung up, the trap was sprung. “That will be $6.79, please.”
“Okay, where’s your money?”
“All my money’s in the bank. You know that, Mom; you made me put it there. Remember?”
(I don’t think, to this day, that I have been paid back.)
Then there was the get-a-ride-home-from-anywhere hijack which went like this:
I got a phone call, usually after my bedtime.
“Mom, can you come and get us?’
“I thought you were getting a ride home with your cousin.”
“He had to go to work.”
“Well, you will have to walk home then.” (We didn’t live twenty miles from town then.)
“Mom, we can’t walk home in the dark. Somebody might kidnap us. What are you going to tell Suzie’s mom if we get kidnapped?”
I know—it was tempting.)
At least I didn’t say that those were the good old days.
Okay, I know what you are thinking—that I deserved what I got. I should have been smarter or at least tougher than the kids. In my own defense, I can say none of them grew up to be actual con men. I think that they are all dumber than their own kids though.
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