Perks & Pitfalls of a Rewarded Life

By: Roshanda Pratt

Who doesn’t like getting a pat on the back or hearing a job well done?  As a mom, it seems like I spend a great deal of time applauding my children for their good deeds.  I do not mind because I firmly believe a child with a high self-esteem and self-worth translates into an adult who is a benefit to their friends, family and community. However, I have recently been wondering if we give too many “rewards” for the sake of making sure children feel appreciated? And is this practice really damaging?

Here is my case: I have a 2 year-old boy, a 5 year-old girl and a 6 year-old girl. All three attend school. Yes, even the 2 year-old goes three days a week.  All three are rewarded and recognized for “good” behavior at the end of the week. For example, when the 6 year-old keeps all her M&M’s at the end of the week she can make a trip to the treasure box.  I understand it is a way to teach the benefit of following the classroom rules and being a good citizen in school.  I believe that in those early years with our children we should teach them about both the good and bad consequences of their decisions. However, here is my quandary:  When are rewards just too much?  I have found lately that my children want a “treat,” as they call it, for everything.

Rewards“Mommy, I cleaned up my room. Can I get a treat?”

“Mommy, I kept all my M&M’s. Can I get a treat?”

“Mommy, I just shared with my brother. Can I get a treat?”

My husband has never been a huge fan of this practice because it creates an expectation that they MUST be rewarded or celebrated for everything they do, even if what they do should be expected. At first when the girls started school, I bought into this practice of rewarding their behavior for every activity. I can remember when it started.  It started with potty training.  We adopted the Dora the Explorer attitude.  “Yay, You Did It!” I encouraged with words of affirmation and gifts of celebration.  Now, fast forward to the present. After years of rewards, we are teaching our children that the best reward is the knowledge that you did the right thing.  As you can imagine this does not go over well with the 5 year-old who is particular to celebration.  I guess old habits die hard.

I really started thinking about this in terms to our world.  How many times this week did you receive a pat on the back? Or receive a “reward” for a job well done? My pastor recently said something that really resonated with me.  He said we are parenting mini adults.  What we set up now will be what they live out as an adult. That is a sobering thought.  Recently, while my 5 year-old practiced writing her letters, she started crying and really needed some reinforcement.  I encouraged her but I realized quickly she wanted me to say that if she did the work she would receive a reward.  My husband picked up on this too and told her she is not always going to be celebrated or given a reward to do what she needs to do.  Isn’t that life? Our job as parents is to prepare our children for life.  In life you may be picked last for the dodge ball game, in life you will get an “A” on a project but your teacher may not give you an additional reward, and in life, when you take care of responsibilities like cleaning the kitchen or paying your bills, you may not get a reward each and every time.

Here is the bottom line:  I have learned how to prioritize the reward system.  I have often reminded the girls that sometimes the best reward is being proud for making a good decision.  Rewards like candy, a little toy or gold stars are all good, but the best reward is when you know in your “knower” you have done the right thing and that is reward enough!

What do you think? Do you reward your children every time they do something well? Do you think the “rewards” system is setting our children up for failure?

Ro :)

Living With ADHD

By: Crissie Miller Kirby

ADHD

Those letters loomed large in front of me.  I’d heard them and had even casually commented in passing that I wondered if my children (two boys, two and half years apart) suffered from it. However, like many, I never actually believed that either of my sons suffered from it, always chalking their behavior up to the just being “boys.”

Well, that was, until last week.

My “fears” were realized.  I use the term “fears” loosely.  True fear was last fall when I spent five days waiting for test results from a biopsy of an enlarged lymph node on my oldest son; I truly felt a weight lift from my shoulders when the nurse said his cancer panel was negative.

However, we all have hopes and dreams for our children and when we realize that there is going to be a stumbling block placed in front of them, we fear that unknown- that uncertainty.

After many months of counseling with a child therapist, during which she had given me the Vanderbilt testing forms, we reviewed the results together after both my son’s teacher and I had completed them.  They weren’t very favorable.  However, we chose not to address the test results with the pediatrician just yet. Instead, we chose to continue counseling through the summer.  I was fearful of taking a lassaiz faire approach and just “sticking” him on medication.

Two weeks into first grade, my opinion began to shift.

“He is not focusing on his work.  Could you please speak with him?” said the note from the teacher.  This was on the second day of class. “I am having trouble getting Pierce to focus on his work again today,” said the email less than a week later.

“He’s crying every time we try to talk to him or work on his homework with him,” said the phone call later that same afternoon from our church after school program.

Something had to be done.  If it was not ADD/ADHD, then my son was definitely experiencing some anxiety issues that I was ill prepared to handle in a six-year-old.  Having long suffered from anxiety issues myself, I benefit greatly from daily medication and counseling.  A visit to the pediatrician was definitely in line.

My pediatrician reviewed the Vanderbilt forms.  She reviewed some of Pierce’s schoolwork.  She listened as I described his behaviors.  She observed him in the office, where he was not being “bad” or truly “mischievous,” but was constantly on the move.

He was positively ADHD.  She had no doubts; even telling me, that if she had any doubts she would recommend counseling and would not prescribe medication, and that if it were her own son, she would try medication.

So we left the office with a prescription for Focalin, which we started the very next morning.

“I have seen a change already!  He has kept up with all the work so far today!!!” said the email from his teacher after I notified her of what had occurred the afternoon before.

“He finished all of his homework in about half the time and even had time to do a few extra sheets.  Now he’s playing,” were the words said to me when I picked my boys up from the after school program.

I’ll admit that I was a bit skeptical that the medication could work that quickly.  However, Pierce’s counselor assured me that it could, and most likely had, worked that quickly.

Now comes what I deem the hardest part: learning to live with the ADHD diagnosis.  No, it is not life threatening, and for that, I am grateful.  However, it is a stumbling block- one I really never considered.  Just as a child who is diagnosed with juvenile diabetes (although that can be life threatening and much more severe than ADHD), it is a diagnosis with which we must learn to function.

Like so many other issues and events, the actual “patient” is not the only one affected by the diagnosis; for us to overcome it as a family, it will require changes by everyone.  My son’s counselor has suggested changes to our morning and evening routines to create clear structure and boundaries.  She has said that better organization in our home will also help him focus better and prevent him from being overwhelmed with too many choices.  We have also already added additional help with his reading to hopefully help him catch up and help boost his confidence level.

I am comforted both by my decision-making process and the timing of that decision, knowing that we had already taken steps to help him out, non-medically, through counseling.  We had tried another approach and it did not solve the dilemma. At the end of the day, while I struggled with the ADHD diagnosis and the decision to medicate my son, I think it was the right decision.

The Kid’s Palate

By: Elizabeth Webber Akre

Way before my husband and I had our beautiful daughter, we talked about what we would and wouldn’t do as parents.  We had very clear, very emphatic plans.  We would not tolerate bad behavior in public.  We wouldn’t have one of those kids who refuses to eat her dinner…this is what we’re having, enjoy it.  And we sure weren’t going to feed her Cheetos and McDonald’s…oh no, no.  Well, we’ve since learned that sometimes, as parents, we actually CAN’T control all these variables as we thought we could.  Sometimes, reality gets in the way.  Often, you have to pick your battles.  And, things change.  A lot.

We’ve done well with the public behavior.  In fact, I’d say my little one is one of the best behaved kids you’ll see in a restaurant, at a sporting event, concert, etc.  I’m proud of that.  Most of the time, she tries new foods and eats her dinner without much complaint.  But, not always.  We have managed to stave off the junk food and fast food poison pretty well, but let’s be honest, sometimes it’s a necessary evil (traveling in the middle of nowhere, but there’s always a set of those damn golden arches out there.)  And of course, things change.

One thing I’ve always talked to her about is how our taste buds can change as we get older.  Already in her short life, she’s realized this fact.  It’s really cute when it happens too, because she’ll exclaim, “Hey Mommy, my taste buds have changed!  I like this now!”  Which brings me to the July bounty of figs.

My parents have a fig tree in their backyard.  Last year, it really produced and I was so excited to share it with my daughter.  I have such fond memories of climbing my next door neighbor’s fig tree and just sitting up there eating figs until I couldn’t stand it anymore. But sadly, last summer she turned her cute little nose up at these odd, yet wonderful, little fruits.  So, imagine my surprise when two days ago she ventured out into my parents’ backyard and came back very nonchalantly snacking on a fig.  She walked in and announced, “Hey everybody the figs are ready!”  We all exchanged astonished glances.  What a difference a year makes!

So, my dad and I accompanied her out to the tree to harvest.  She loved climbing into the middle of that tree, just like I used to.  She was the keeper of the bucket too, so she was loving watching our fig volume increase.  As we chatted about fig preserves, grilled figs, figs stuffed with blue cheese & wrapped in prosciutto, she came up with a new one:  fig cobbler.  Hmmm, I have to think about that a little bit.  What a joy to see how excited she was to discover the tree ripe with fruit, picking them herself, and actually enjoying eating them this year.  See?  I told ya, those taste buds do change.

Don’t believe me?  Check this out – http://akreeats.blogspot.com/2011/07/great-tomato-break-through.html

“Mommy Guilt”

By:  Crissie Miller Kirby

Initially, I thought my friend, Lynne Rauton, was crazy for suggesting that I write about my “Mommy Guilt,” but the more I thought about it – I thought, and why am I afraid to write about it?  Do I really think that DSS might show up at my door?  Am I afraid of being judged by other, more “perfect” mothers out there?  Am I afraid to admit my shortcomings as a parent?  Honestly, I’d have to say, “Yes,” to all of them.

If you are a woman and have children, you know, without me saying anything more, what “Mommy Guilt” is all about.  For those of you who have not been stressed . . . oops, I meant blessed to have children yet, let me explain “Mommy Guilt” in a few short sentences.  “Mommy Guilt” is that feeling that you have where you question every single decision you make in regards to your children.  This feeling begins almost the second you find out you are pregnant (or adopting, as the case may be for some) and intensifies, oh, 100-fold, the second said child takes his/her first breath.  “Mommy Guilt” knows no boundaries.  The guilty feeling can be from something as simple as what socks your child has on to larger decisions about whether or when to go back to work after delivery or what childcare facility to use.

My most recent “Mommy Guilt” episode cropped up yesterday morning when I put my 3 ½ year old in the shower before church.  This was not the first time we’ve done this – he loves to get in the shower and use the handheld sprayer to play, dance, sing and whatever else 3-year-olds do in the shower, besides actually bathe.  For reasons unknown to me, my dear, sweet Smith has decided that showering, alone, is not enough.  Oh no, he has to also pull up the stopper and allow water to fill the tub, as he is continuing to run the shower.  Needless to say, yesterday morning, I was also in the midst of steam cleaning a late night vomiting issue (gross, I know, sorry – more “Mommy Guilt”), and my dear sweet little Smith flooded the bathroom.  I did not handle this well.  Out came 5 beach towels to soak it all up – very small hall/guest bathroom mind you – and I totally lost my cool.

And dear sweet little Smith got a spanking.  Yes.  I said it.  I admit it.  I spanked my child.

Then I proceeded to have a major breakdown of “Mommy Guilt” proportions and cried for 10 minutes.

Worse than buyer’s remorse is “Mommy Guilt,” in those minutes after the spanking, I knew that my little man would forever be emotionally scarred and would spend an eternity in therapy for that transgression on my part.

Wait a minute.  Really?  I’m feeling guilty for teaching my child a lesson about not wasting water (that we do have to pay for) and taking care of our home (my daddy always told me that if you let water sit on linoleum, then it will ruin it).  I’d like to lay the blame for this on being a single mom, but I can’t.  If I were still married, the same exact scenario could have, and probably would have, occurred.  I am a woman; I am a mother and I love it, even when it is hard, lonely, and thankless.  Yes, I would change some things I have done, but, mostly, if I could, I would completely and totally outlaw “Mommy Guilt.”

I must run now and check the weather forecast; otherwise, I might spend all day feeling guilty for not dressing my children warm enough.

So, now that I have confessed my transgressions, what about you?  Have you ever experienced “Mommy Guilt”?  How have you overcome it?