Beans Beans the Magical Fruit

Today is Harrison’s last day of kindergarten. Funny, I think I’m sadder that kindergarten is over than I was that it started. Instead of, “Oh, my baby’s gone!” I’m now feeling like, “Great. The kid’s coming home.”

I am pleased to announce, however, that thanks to something I heard on Dr. Laura last week I have revamped an old parenting plan with phenomenal results. (This is not a show I usually listen to. She sometimes makes me want to take a toothpick to my eyeballs. Come on, like people who are in love can go years without getting married or having sex?  It’s one or the other, baby, and don’t I know it. She’s never practiced it and she has no clue what she’s talking about.)

So anyway, she’s reading this email from a mom who does a point system with her kids. They get points for all sorts of good behavior, and at the end of the week, if they’ve earned 20 points, they get one hour of Mom Time–she plays with them, whatever they want to play, for an entire hour (which we all know would be better exercise than a two hour kick boxing class).

A few years back a girlfriend told me about their family Bean Jar. Anytime her kids worked together to behave well, they got beans in the jar. If EVERYONE got their shoes on in time, they got beans. If the little kids were quiet and let the bigger ones practice piano, they got beans. It was a group effort and really encouraged her kids to get along.

Putting the two together, on Sunday I introduced Harrison to his new Bean Jar. When he says, “Yes Mom!” with a smile, or sighs and says, “Okay, Mom” when he’d rather throw his little self on the floor and kick and scream, or when he refrains from pummeling his little slap happy brother (who regularly abuses him) and instead let’s me give Rex a time-out…you get the picture. He gets beans. Lots and lots of beans.

The reward? When the jar is full, I’m giving him a cheap (Dave Ramsey would be so proud) reward. One hour of play time with me that includes a water balloon fight.

Lucky for me, it takes almost an hour to fill enough water balloons to be worth anything, so by the time they’re all tossed, I’ll be finished. Cause I’m sneaky like that.

But the point is, I now have an angel living in my house. For an entire week he has graced my demands with “Yes Mom!” and “Okay.” Of course, each kind response he dishes is followed by a hopeful, “Beans? Two handfuls this time?” I’m serious, he’s turned into such a polite, willing young man who fanatically watches the level on his bean jar rise.

Now, if only I could train the rest of them. Do you think June would behave if I offered an hour of unsupervised toilet water play time?