Tell them why:
Take Your Kids
Tell them why:
Category: Teens
How Full is Your Plate? online workshop for moms
At 5, they’re eager to help. At 8, they’re earnest. At 10, they begin to complain:”This is unfair…”
THE FULL PLATE project was created in response to my first born when he hit the ripe age of 10 and started complaining that his chores were “unfair” and that he “had too much to do.” (Which, of course, was completely absurd, but there was no way to get through to him around this, until…
THE FULL PLATE project: after which he NEVER complained again.
In fact, he was actually HAPPY about his small share of chores; okay, maybe not happy, but at least satisfied because he didn’t want to have to face the reality (and potential consequences) of The Full Plate project again.
Another bonus was that this activity was a wakeup call for my husband, who realized that he wasn’t the only one “doing everything.”
And lastly, as a mom, The Full Plate project provided a sense of validation and recognition for ALL I did (and do) behind the scenes of home and family life.
The best part is that no one knew what hit them. When the night came for The Full Plate family activity (Step II of the three-part project), I made their favorite dinner and even served dessert…
…And then I put out 4 clean plates and a bunch of what look liked fortune cookie strips, and life as they previously perceived it changed…
Now, all I have to do is mention The Full Plate project and everyone gets moving on their share of the household work.
Does this sound like something you’d like to try with your family?
Find out about the next group of moms tackling this challenge as we “gather” in a private FB group (with password access to the three-part project on this site) with flexible online participation according to your schedule.
Contact me with questions or to inquire about joining the next group.
More writing on chores:
The Necessity of Chores
Half Day
Turnstile
We sent our very independent and surly 18 year old off to college last August, and he returned this past May, thrilled to be home.
We were taken aback by this deep appreciation for our small world given his desperation to escape it a year earlier, and we mistook this as a leap in maturity rather than a deep disappointment in his experience at college and in himself there.
His new plan is to take a semester’s leave and to volunteer in his field (International and Community Development) to help bring the excrutiating static classroom experience to life; and to shed light on how to move through with passion and meaning and integrity.
With this aim, he has been working with a non-profit organization in Central America to find a good fit. They have decided on a women’s artisan cooperative in Costa Rica in the same town that he visited with his Junior High class in what seems like another lifetime ago.
He leaves in two weeks.
He leaves.
He.
As parents, we’re not sure about our role; which has been increasingly true for a least a couple of years now.
I’m beginning to understanding that parenting, all of it, is not so much a nest as it is a reverse toll booth or a turnstile or one of those revolving doors through which others move from the outside to the inside to the outside again.
In this analogy, I find it important to distinguish the role from myself. This distinction seems to have growing relevance as our children become adults.
I want to communicate support and encouragement without robbing initiative and autonomy, and that is a tall order.
Breath has become one of my greatest tools. And silence. And listening.
(But just in case, click here for his upcoming trip. Pass it a long if you’re so inclined.
Just don’t tell him that I asked.)
The Empty Nest Diary 