Cotton Ball Craze

Summer holidays. Warm evenings. Beach. T-shirts and shorts. Sunburns. And lots of time with the kids. Could it be any better?

I thought perhaps it could be a smidgen better. With the holidays also comes a lot more time together and more chance for friction. Yes, okay, it's learning life skills, but looking for consequences for poor behaviour doesn't sit so well with me. Determined to find another way to stave off the sibling squabbles, I googled ways to encourage and reward good behaviour in children.  I discovered a website called Your Modern Family and found an easy reward system to set in place. In an empty jar you drop a cotton ball when the child does something nice and unexpected. When the jar fills up, they get to choose an activity (you set the guidelines) to do with a parent or whole family. I like that option better than getting more 'stuff'. After a discussion with my daughters, a short trip to the dollar store for a pretty jar, we were off and running.

I could see their brains cranking, the smoke pouring out of their ears, as they started to digest what it meant to do something spontaneous, nice, or helpful. At the end of day one, there were two or three cotton balls collected, and much discussion about what activity would be chosen. Rock climbing seems to be high on the list. Fish and chips on the beach for dinner a close second. They batted ideas back and forth while in the background I continued to do laundry, make meals, feed the pets, clean up, plan activities, etc, and then I headed into the pantry and pulled out an empty jar of my own.

What are you doing? they demanded. I want a jar too, I said. When mine is full, then I get to pick an activity too. I didn't elaborate then, but I was thinking a weekend away on my own with no one expecting anything of me and lots of time to read and write. I explained that every time I did something for someone else, without being asked, then I too could score a cotton ball.

At the end of day three we all stood before our jars and stared. The girls had six or seven each, which was really great. I rewarded them for random acts of kindness, sharing, and efforts made to make someone laugh. They were getting really creative, and I noticed that they were not reacting so emotionally when the other child had a mood swing. Our eyes then swung to my jar, which was overflowing with cotton balls. Their eyes opened wide and jaws hung low.

Mom, how did you do it? Well, let's see, I answered. I cut up fruit for your breakfast without being asked, then fed and watered the dog, cats and bird without being asked, I put away your breakfast foods, I washed your laundry, I hung up your laundry, I made your lunch, I swept the floor of dog hair, I changed your bed linens, I emptied your bins, I took your clothes off the line and folded them into piles so all you had to do was take your pile to your room and put it away, I made your afternoon snack, I tidied up afterwards, I made your dinner, I washed up afterwards, I read a book to you, I tucked you in and kissed you...you get the picture.

They turned their dear little faces to me in astonishment. I smiled. Quite widely. I used the momentum to expand their list of chores, and which they have actually, unbelievably, agreed to. Their cotton ball jars are filling quickly, and the amount of spontaneous kindness and assistance has increased. But more than that, there is a new appreciation for what their mother does in a day. And I too learned a lesson: I do too much. They are fully functioning members of the family who share this house and are quite capable of handling more responsibility in the running of it. I have wanted to find more time for reading and writing, and now I have. I have also learned that it's a good idea to reward myself too because I do a lot and it should be rewarded and not just expected, by me or anyone else. I get more cups of tea made for me, and two meals a week are now out of my hands. And I sit down when I see the cotton balls piling up too quickly. Some things can wait, and it doesn't mean I'm a bad mommy. Who knew there was such a lesson to be learned so easily by so many of us from cotton balls? Long live the cotton ball.