PD Tool Card: Routines

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

In our most recent Family Conference, we used the problem-solving portion to create a Routine Chart for bedtime. The experience of creating and using it has been somewhat straightforward and predictable--and has also yielded some surprising (to me) information about one of my children.

Most parents are familiar with the need for routines and many of us use them outside of parenting, too. As someone who loves to know what to expect (I'm a "J" on the MBTI test, if you're into that sort of thing), I tend to enjoy routines: creating them, using them, wearing them like old fuzzy slippers. Love. 'Em.

Other people I happen to live with (coughcoughBrendancoughcough) tend not to love the formalized routines so much. But I submit that even those crazy wonderful people use and benefit from routines--they just might not know it, or care about it as much, or not get all excited to see a routine delineated on a big white chart with colorful markers.

By the way, I distinguish routine from schedule. A schedule is an activity (that could be part of a routine) that needs to occur within a fairly tight time frame. Routines are more general, and somewhat more flexible. Before I was beaten down by learned how to relax a bit let go of my perfectionism had three kids, I was a big believer in schedules-with-a-capital-S. Now I'm a lot more fun and chill, and a whole standard deviation's (or two) worth less obsessive, I leave the scheduling to people who run movie theaters. I prefer routine over schedule, especially when it comes to children (because nothing will make you learn how to not worry about what time something happens like having children, especially more than one!).

And it so happens that there is a Positive Discipline Tool Card for Routines!

The card says: "Help children create routine charts to encourage responsibility." And lists the steps to making an effective routine chart.

The first step is the most important one if you want that "encourage responsibility" portion of the program (and I'm supposing that you do): "Create routine charts WITH your child." I will speak from experience as a parent, and remembering from childhood, that nothing gets a person less interested in a chart than one that's presented to him as a done-deal. Even now, if you gave me a list of things to do--even if I knew it was my responsibility to handle those tasks (such as for the AOS or work around the house)--I'd be irritated and resentful of your bossing me around. And guess what? So are my kids!

We also created a Bedtime Chart, but this process can be used for many different types of routines. Our bedtime process was all over the place--literally and figuratively. It's still my responsibility to get Sean down to sleep, and his routine is necessarily different from the older kids. Even where the routines overlapped--they all three need teeth-brushing, for example--there was no consistency in remembering (on my part or Brendan's) and no easy way to figure out who had done what. Basically it's been too chaotic and unorganized for the likes of me. (I suspect everyone else wasn't as bothered by it as I was.)

So what we did at our Family Conference is worked together, all of us (except Sean who keeps milking that "I'm a Toddler" excuse for all it's worth). I actually got out a large easel pad, similar to the type I use in parenting workshops with Kelly, and my fancy-schmancy Mommy Markers (fascinating to the children as I selfishly reserve them for my own projects and do not lend them to others). I explained the process, and we all brainstormed the things that needed to get done before bed.

This is what they came up with (in no particular order):

• Brush Teeth
• Put on pajamas
• Read a story
• Big Hug and Kiss from Mom and Dad
• Tuck In

We were missing what (in my opinion) is a very important step, so I suggested Use the potty. Oh yeah! Good one, Mom! And hence, one of my ulterior motives for this routine chart was addressed.

Next came my other two motives: Wash face and hands (because holy smokes, that needs to be done on occasion), and Pick up clothes and toys from bedroom floor. THIS was the Big One, as I'd spent much of the previous day arguing and negotiating helping Ryan declutter and organize his room. Now I have loudly and often proclaimed my low housekeeping stands, and I stand by them (or over them, rather--they're that low). But his room had devolved into such a ridiculous state that I couldn't stand it one more second. I knew that one way to help prevent future problems would be to have him pick up his toys and clothes at least once a day, and I suggested this as part of the bedtime routine.

Once we'd all agreed that yes indeed, these were things that could be done and should be done and would be done, I rewrote everything nice and neat, and then Morgan and Sean colored and decorated it (Ryan didn't want to help). We agreed to try it for a week and then talk about how it goes at the next Family Conference. We also agreed on a general time frame for the routine to begin--not a set-in-stone schedule, but a general thereabouts. Our household is probably much more flexible on this point than most. I'd venture to say that if the kids were in school, or were starting school soon (as in next week), then our routine might need to begin on schedule, to make sure everyone got enough sleep.

So we tried it. As expected, Ryan resisted and tested whether or not we were serious about this. One night he protested and fought for so long there was no time for a story (and no patience either). But after that, it hasn't been such a problem. We kept referring him back to the chart (see Step 4: Let the routine chart be the boss.) We also didn't hesitate to remind him that he'd agreed to use it (another great reason to get the child's involvement in the procedure). He understands the fundamental nature of contractual obligations, and though angry, did not deny the justice of our position.

But the surprise has been Morgan. Each night, she goes upstairs (we stuck the chart on the wall outside the bathroom), reads each step carefully, follows the directions, runs back, reads the next step, etc. This is surprising to me because it's such a Jenn-like thing to do. :o) She is so much like Brendan, that sometimes I forget she came from me, too! This child seems to take an especial satisfaction in knowing what's expected, having it written out in a clear way, and it seems as if she gets a sense of completion and pride from having finished all of the steps. The first night she was so excited that she began the routine about 15 minutes early!

This is wonderful because she is taking that responsibility I wanted her to, being independent, and she is experiencing pride in her accomplishment. Which, incidentally, is connected to Step 5 above: Do not take away from feelings of capability by adding rewards. Pride in accomplishment is an end in itself. If she were focused on winning a reward (a sticker or extra 5 minutes of story time), it could easily distract her focus from an independent first-handed feeling of pride.

This is also wonderful because I have struggled and struggled with figuring out how to help her follow processes with multiple steps. Those who know her in person are familiar with the fact that you can't give her more than two instructions verbally if you want half a chance that she'll follow the instructions. Sometimes I wouldn't place a bet on whether she'd follow an instruction with ONE step! Could it be that all we have to do is write the steps down together? Does she just not hear things? Is she primarily visual (that's me)? Does making this into a fun project with Mommy's taboo markers simply get her full undivided attention? I'm not exactly sure which factor it might be (or all of them?). Doesn't matter--we'll definitely be trying this again!

Have you ever used Routine Charts with your kids (or spouse, ha ha!)? How did they work for you? Any enlightening moments, such as my Morgan Revelation?

A routine chart--a handy way for everyone in the household to understand and agree on responsibilities, and a wonderful way to reinforce a few of the virtues, too. :o)

Parenting Toolbox: The 3 Rs of Recovery

(from Reepicheep's Coracle)

When I pulled out this card* today, looking for a tool to write about, I knew it was the right one. I love the cards that tell me how to behave because often, that's all it takes for Livy to behave. Amazing how big an effect it has on her when I act like the responsible, mature adult I should be. This card also explains a tool that I can pass on to Livy as a life skill, and I love those too. And last, but not least, I had to use the steps on this card recently in my daily life.

The card reads:

"Making mistakes isn't as important as what you do about them. Use these steps after you have had a chance to cool off.

"1. Recognize the mistake with a feeling of responsibility instead of blame.

"2. Reconcile by apologizing. Children are so forgiving.

"3. Resolve the problem by working together on a respectful solution."

So, in case you guys were not aware of this, I mess up all the time. I set limits that are unnecessary. I yell at Livy. I boss her when I ought to mind my own business. I treat her unkindly or like I'm superior or like she is a bother. I hurry her up when I don't have anything in particular to do. I let lesser priorities get ahead of her.

And, in case you guys were not aware of this, if you generally treat your child with respect and allow her to voice her opinions, she will let you know immediately when you do any of the bad things above. :)

I try to always keep in mind that I am forging a new path, parenting in a new way (not the way I was parented), and mistakes are to be expected. Not only expected, but welcomed as new chances to learn how to behave myself. Not that I want to yell at her. But when I do, instead of kicking myself (mentally or physically), I can be glad that I have seen a flaw in my behavior or thinking and that I have a chance to work on it.

Therefore, my motto: YIPPEE MISTAKES!!

But what to do when you make a mistake with your kids? Here's a list of some of the ways I have seen parents handle mistakes.

1. Hide them. After all, if we want our kids to respect us, we had better appear to be infallible. Everyone who has ever worked for a jackass boss knows that we don't respect people who cannot admit that they are wrong and make amends. We see them as insecure and rigid and dishonest, and they are.

2. Don't even acknowledge the mistake to yourself. They are only kids, anyway, and we can treat them any way we want. We are the adults; we must be right. This is even worse than the first one. At least if you only hide your mistakes you can improve secretly. If you don't even allow that you could be wrong, there is no possibility of change.

3. Blame them on the kid. "Well, I may have yelled, but you shouldn't do that and make me so mad." Also the M.O. of spousal abusers, though at least their victims can leave. Once again, dishonest, but also just mean. And what a terrible lesson to teach, that a child is responsible for other people's feelings and behavior. This means he is his brother's keeper, and even his mom's.

So, as usual, positive discipline has another approach: the three Rs. When we screw up, we can accept responsibility, apologize to the wronged person, and make a plan (ideally, involving the wronged person in the planning) for working on this problem in the future.

Here's an example of how this might work with me and Livy. I can't think of a recent situation when I've used this with her, so I'm making one up, but it could easily happen this way for us.

Imagine Livy happily playing in her room, absorbed in some important and yet invisible (to me) project. I walk in and say, "Okay, I need some help with the dishes." She says, "I'm busy. I'll help later." I say, "Look, I cooked dinner and grew these vegetables and the least you can do is come and help me clean." We end up in a fight because she doesn't want to disengage from her work, and I am stubbornly refusing to butt out. When I realize that I didn't take her work into account or try to be at all flexible about the help I needed (everything had to be on my time schedule), here's what I would do.

1. Recognize the mistake. Thinking in my head, "I hate to be interrupted and bossed too. Her work is just as important to her as mine is to me, and there was no reason those dishes could not have waited 10 or 15 minutes. I should have been more respectful of her time."

2. Reconcile by apologizing. To Livy: "I'm sorry that I just came in here and demanded that you stop what you were doing and help me RIGHT NOW. I should have told you that I needed help and then worked out a time for doing it that was good for both of us." After this, Livy would definitely need to talk with me about it and probably cry a little bit, if it was an intense fight. I wouldn't move on to step 3 until we were actually reconciled, and she felt heard.

3. Resolve by problem solving. Me: "I don't want to act like that in the future, so I'll need to work on it. Any ideas?" Livy: "Don't boss me anymore." Me: "That's my goal, but I need a plan to help me practice and remember. What if you hold up your hand if I start rudely interrupting you so that I can remember not to?" Livy: "Or I could close my door if I am working on something important." Me: "Okay, that sounds good. Then, when I stop to knock, that will help me remember to respect your time. I'll still want to tell you I need help and work out a plan for when you can take a break and help me." Livy: "That's fine. Now can I get back to my project?" Me: "Sure. When can you help me with the dishes?" Livy: "10 minutes?" Me: "Okay, I'll set the timer."

Now, what did I get out of this? First, I got to make amends for a mistake and repair the relationship with a person I value very much. I got to show her that I want to treat her well, which makes her feel better and makes me feel better too. I got to be virtuous; I used honesty (because looking a mistake square in the face is looking at reality), integrity (because I chose to act in accordance with my values), productivity (because parenting is a career and this is the kind of work I want to do in my parenting), and pride (because I was looking back over my behavior to see if it was virtuous). I also got to teach Livy some important lessons, and that is a big goal of mine.

Here's what I think she got out of it: She learned that adults make mistakes, even parents, and that when she is an adult, she will make mistakes as well. She learned what to do when she makes a mistake. She learned that when we bring a mistake to the forefront instead of evading it, both people (the mistake-maker and the victim of the mistake) get to feel better. She learned about how to be virtuous by watching me use honesty, integrity, productivity, and pride, even if she doesn't know their names yet. She learned that it is not okay to boss people around and to misuse power. And she learned that I love her and don't want to treat her badly, even when I sometimes do it by mistake. That's quite a lot from one little mistake from me and a conversation.

Because it is so applicable to every single person in the world, I think that this tool should be considered a life tool or a people tool, rather than just a parenting tool. I used it myself recently with another adult.

I lost my temper and wrote an unfair blog post. Once I cooled down and realized what I did, I used these 3 steps to handle the situation. They took a long time because it was a big confusing mistake, but in the end, they worked in the same way they do with kids.

First, I acknowledged to myself the mistake I had made. And not just that I had made a mistake, but exactly what I had done and why. This first step is really a kind of introspection, where we figure out what happened and admit, to ourselves, exactly what the error was. Next, I apologized to the person I went off on. I explained my mistake to him and told him how sorry I was.

Finally, I made a plan (This time, I did the problem solving alone, since the victim of my mistake was a stranger and not someone I was likely to go off on again.) for how I was going to cool off before publishing blog posts in the future. I thought of what I could do to made amends to him (apologizing publicly and taking down the post) and of what I could do to prevent these kinds of mistakes in the future.

By dealing with my mistake this way instead of one of the other ways I mentioned, I got to be virtuous and feel better and work for my future improvement. My victim got some justice and acknowledgment from me and got the feeling of reconciliation too. This way of handling the mistake was a win for both of us.

Admitting mistakes openly makes some people feel embarrassed and humbled, but I don't think we have to see it that way. When I behaved so badly, I was not acting virtuously. Nothing else I could do afterward would erase that. My choice was in how to handle the aftermath of the mistake, virtuously or not. When we use these 3 Rs, since we are acting virtuously, we can feel the dignity and honor that virtuous action brings us. I may have been a jackass on the day I wrote the post, but I can be proud of the way I handled it afterward, at least.

This is a big lesson I want Livy to take into adulthood: when we handle mistakes rationally, using these 3 Rs, we are help ourselves (the virtues lead to happiness, after all), and we maintain healthy relationships (treating our loved ones with respect). And I think owning up when I make mistakes is the best way for her to learn it.

*You can see Jane Nelson's Positive Discipline Tool Cards here.

Unearned Guilt and the Mommy Wars

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

Ah, the Mommy Wars. Breast vs Formula. Stay-at-home vs Career. Homeschooling vs Private vs Public Schools. Repeat C-Section vs VBAC. Natural Birth vs Epidurals. Positive Discipline vs Super-Nanny vs Spanking.

Those are just a very, very few of the main battles that are ongoing in the realm of Mommydom (and Daddydom--Dads are not completely immune, though it's mostly us Mommies).

I've written about these issues and the Mommy Wars that surround them in the past once or twice, but I've never specifically addressed what I see as a primary cause of the Mommy War Phenomenon itself. When a battle in the Mommy War breaks out, I see a couple of themes over and over again: "Don't Judge Me (or Anyone)" and "Stop Trying to Guilt Me into X."

Just so you know the kinds of things I'm talking about, here's an example of a couple comments on a post on Motherlode, the parenting blog of The New York Times (my emphasis):

. . . I think women need to be less judgmental of each other in this matter.

. . . I also want to add a note about what I came to think of as the “lactation mafia” — women who do their best to guilt other women into breast feeding, no matter how good a fit it is for the mom and the new baby.

These sorts of comments are very typical, and it took me less than a minute to locate them in the comment thread.

Here's the thing about the Mommy Wars:

I don't play.

And it's a game, not a war. It's a game of guilt and judging-while-pretending-not-to-judge and not taking into account the full context of one's (or another's) decisions and pragmatism and subjectivism. It's a game and I refuse to play.

Here's what Ayn Rand said about moral judgment (my emphasis):

The precept: “Judge not, that ye be not judged” . . . is an abdication of moral responsibility: it is a moral blank check one gives to others in exchange for a moral blank check one expects for oneself.

There is no escape from the fact that men have to make choices; so long as men have to make choices, there is no escape from moral values; so long as moral values are at stake, no moral neutrality is possible. To abstain from condemning a torturer, is to become an accessory to the torture and murder of his victims.

The moral principle to adopt in this issue, is: “Judge, and be prepared to be judged.”

The opposite of moral neutrality is not a blind, arbitrary, self-righteous condemnation of any idea, action or person that does not fit one’s mood, one’s memorized slogans or one’s snap judgment of the moment. Indiscriminate tolerance and indiscriminate condemnation are not two opposites: they are two variants of the same evasion. To declare that “everybody is white” or “everybody is black” or “everybody is neither white nor black, but gray,” is not a moral judgment, but an escape from the responsibility of moral judgment.

To judge means: to evaluate a given concrete by reference to an abstract principle or standard. It is not an easy task; it is not a task that can be performed automatically by one’s feelings, “instincts” or hunches. It is a task that requires the most precise, the most exacting, the most ruthlessly objective and rational process of thought. It is fairly easy to grasp abstract moral principles; it can be very difficult to apply them to a given situation, particularly when it involves the moral character of another person. When one pronounces moral judgment, whether in praise or in blame, one must be prepared to answer “Why?” and to prove one’s case—to oneself and to any rational inquirer.

Ayn Rand, “How Does One Lead a Rational Life in an Irrational Society?” The Virtue of Selfishness, 72.

So what does this mean? It means I have made moral choices regarding my parenting and myself according to the best of my judgment. Some of those decisions have been objectively less-than-ideal, but morally correct, given my personal situation.

A great example of this would be my three c-sections, particularly the third one. I know that c-sections are riskier for mom and baby, and less-than-ideal. In most situations, a vaginal birth is clearly the way to go. I support VBAC and natural birth and home births, if that's what a mom wants. I think the c-section rates are way too high, especially in Georgia. You can quote me the statistics about c-section rates and risks to mom and baby. I know them. I know enough to quote them back at you, probably. I do not support c-sections for either the mom's or doctor's "convenience" and will do my absolute best to talk someone out of that idea (believe me, there is nothing "convenient" about recovering from abdominal surgery while exhausted by caring for a newborn!).

You may judge me for choosing to have Sean via c-section. Of the three kids, he is the one I most likely could have delivered VBAC. I did not choose to even try. I had good reasons (selfish ones, even) to make this decision. But I'm not even going to try to explain them here. You may judge me, you may choose to think I was right or wrong about this. It's okay, and if you think I was wrong, I do understand your point of view.

Here's another thing:

I don't feel guilty.

I don't feel guilty because I made the correct decision, morally. I chose the objectively less-than-ideal for moral reasons and I did the right thing. If someone judges me, if someone shakes their finger at me and says "You did the wrong thing!" I can deal with that. I know what I chose and why. I have nothing to feel guilty about, and therefore the fact that someone might say "You made the wrong choice!" or lift their eyebrows when I mention the c-sections or advocate natural birth or say out loud that "Every woman should try to have such-and-such-type of birth because it's ideal." . . . none of those things has the power to make me feel guilty about my choice.

The only person who can make ME feel guilty about a moral decision I've made is ME. So I can accept that you disagree with my choice--and move on with my life. I can support your doing something differently, and even agree with you: "Yup, having a vaginal birth is best for everyone!" Because objectively, all other factors being equal, it is. I can't argue with that fact of reality.

If I know that I made a morally correct decision, and yet feel "pressure" from other moms who have made different decisions for their circumstances; yet feel that those other moms are trying to "make me feel guilty" somehow; yet feel threatened and defensive about their other choices; then I am accepting what Ayn Rand called unearned guilt (again, via the online Ayn Rand Lexicon and my emphasis):

The virtue of Pride can best be described by the term: “moral ambitiousness.” It means that one must earn the right to hold oneself as one’s own highest value by achieving one’s own moral perfection—which one achieves by never accepting any code of irrational virtues impossible to practice and by never failing to practice the virtues one knows to be rational—by never accepting an unearned guilt and never earning any, or, if one has earned it, never leaving it uncorrected—by never resigning oneself passively to any flaws in one’s character—by never placing any concern, wish, fear or mood of the moment above the reality of one’s own self-esteem. And, above all, it means one’s rejection of the role of a sacrificial animal, the rejection of any doctrine that preaches self-immolation as a moral virtue or duty.

Ayn Rand, “The Objectivist Ethics,” The Virtue of Selfishness, 27.

I have felt guilty about some of my parenting decisions--because I made wrong decisions. I didn't judge them as wrong because they differed from the decisions of others (that's second-handedness) but because they were objectively wrong. I don't confess my sins to others any longer (since leaving Catholicism), because I don't need others (real or imaginary) to forgive me, so you'll just have to wonder what those sins are. ;)

Here's an example of a time I accepted unearned guilt--when Ryan had his Big Peanut Kaboom. Practically the very first thing I read online about peanut allergies basically said that women who ate peanuts while pregnancy caused their kid's peanut allergies. Guess what I ate a lot of during Ryan's pregnancy? :( I felt horrible. I thought I had done this to my child. Even after I learned that this link was tenuous at best (and all but disproven now, to my knowledge), I continued to feel guilty and what-if myself. Finally, I realized that even if there was a direct causal link between what I ate during pregnancy and Ryan's terrible allergy, I shouldn't feel guilty about what I had done because it was an error of knowledge. I can't be morally responsible for doing something harmful when I had no idea that it might be harmful, and I really didn't. (I would be morally responsible for doing it when I knew it was harmful.) I was able to let the unearned guilt go after realizing that.

I don't feel unearned guilt because my friends gave birth vaginally. I am not defensive when they tell me about their birth experiences. I don't feel "pressure" or unfairly judged for my birth decisions. I love to hear their stories, and wonder what labor would have been like for me. My feelings are not hurt if they say "I think there are too many c-sections." or "C-sections are not as safe for mom and baby." My feelings are not hurt because those are factual statements.

And I can't feel guilty about my c-sections. I think c-sections are wonderful things and I'm so happy that I had a doctor who is really great at doing that surgery. Without them, my first baby might not have survived. And, too, my second baby was at a high risk. I made the morally correct decision for rationally selfish reasons to the absolute best of my knowledge. And therefore I am free of "pressure" from others who confidently declare their ideas of the best ways to give birth.

Conversely, I feel confident in stating out loud what I believe to be Best Parenting Practices: vaginal births, not spanking, attachment-style parenting when they're babies, keeping kids out of government schools, breastfeeding. I have reasons for thinking all of these things, and I think I'm right about them. I will be happy to talk to you about my reasoning, and am also willing to check my premises (because I might be wrong!).

But I am not stating these in an effort to make you feel pressured or guilty for doing something differently. Now, you may make different decisions from me, and be guilt-free about it, knowing that you have made perfectly moral decisions. If you feel guilty, maybe you are accepting unearned guilt, or maybe you made a wrong decision. Only you can really know that, and I don't need you to confess to me, either! But that guilty feeling comes from you, not me.

My point about the Mommy Wars is that it's fine to judge others and be judged by others, and to know that if you are making your decisions to the best of your knowledge, within your own rationally selfish context (if you truly need to work, then by all means, feed your baby formula sometimes!), then we Mommies should stop accepting unearned guilt and getting all defensive when other Mommies choose something else and confidently declare that they are proud for doing so. If you do feel rightly guilty (as I have) about something you have done, then figure out why, try to correct it and try not to make it again.

Also, it is possible to simultaneously judge someone else's actions as wrong and yet understand that you may not have all of the information about that person's context. So judge it as wrong, and if later evidence comes out that sheds a different light on that person's decision, change your mind about it. That's possible, too. And it's also possible to judge inside one's head, and not offer a loud opinion in social situations where such discussion is out-of bounds. (That's just good manners.)

If someone tries to make me feel pressured or guilty about c-sections--well, they can't. Because they don't have that power over me. Because I know that not every repeat c-section is the result of an immoral decision. Because I choose to say "Oh. Hmmm." and move on with my life. Because I can know that they don't understand (or maybe even want to understand) the particulars of my situation. And I can choose not to explain the particulars, too. I can find those sorts of people pushy and annoying, but they can't give me guilt.

So I urge you, the next time you feel pressured to participate in a Mommy War, consider dropping your end of the rope, walking away from the playground, just not playing. Don't feel guilty for your morally correct choices. And don't stop judging either.

Garage Sale!

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

Last Saturday was our neighborhood's Spring Garage Sale. We do a neighborhood-wide sale twice a year, and even though I am actually prohibited from having my own garage sale whenever I darn well please, I don't mind this restriction quite as much as the other HOA rules. Don't get me wrong, I still mind a little, but taking part in the neighborhood sale means I don't have to plan it, pay for advertising, and get the benefit of the extra traffic that a yard sale in a neighborhood of over 300 homes brings in.

Sometimes we don't participate, even though we always have tons of crap we could get rid of. In fact, it was non-participation last Fall that caused things to finally come to a head in the Great Allowance Debate. Ryan was SO disappointed we weren't going to do a garage sale and went up to his room and cried and cried because he really wanted to earn some money. So, in addition to settling on an allowance plan, we told him that we'd do our best to sell stuff in the next sale.

During my decluttering frenzy back in March (complete with rented dumpster, huzzah!), I did find some things that I couldn't just hurl into the abyss. A thorough cleaning out of the closet in the Guest Room/Sean's Room resulted in some classic garage sale treasures--old games and puzzles, some duplicates of ones we already own. I also gathered up some books I'm not going to need anymore (mostly in the pregnancy/breastfeeding/infant genre), and of course I revisited the need for every stick of furniture we own, concluding that at least for now, we really do use it all (sigh). We also decided to get rid of our cartop luggage thing, since we've used it all of three times, and can use that space to store the canoe.

(Incidentally, if you see something you've given us in the following pictures, please know we enjoyed those things very much and/or have duplicates. And understand our including those items in our sale is more a reflection on us having too much stuff rather than stuff we don't really like. Excluding the Ricky Martin jigsaw puzzle, although it has also brought me much amusement.)

So in the middle of last week, I started talking to Ryan about the Garage Sale, and the things I was planning to sell. I tell you, nothing gets this kid to pay more attention to what I am saying than words like money, peopleguy, supplies, prices, and pay. He was on the plan, and I told both of the big kids I'd pay them to help me get things ready. Morgan still doesn't quite get the inherent appeal of MONEY, but she is becoming more interested in it lately, simply because of Ryan's interest. I expect she'll get there pretty soon--probably over the next year.

We bought price stickers, and the night before the sale, Ryan and I brought down all of our products (we had to call them products, you know) to the Designated Staging Area. By the way, go me for being so organized about the garage sale this time--I had a list of things I wanted to include and knew just where they were, which is something I thought to do during the decluttering process a month ago.




Our discovery of BrainPOP couldn't have come at a more opportune time, since both kids had been watching a little video about money on the site. I gave them each a couple sheets of price stickers, and showed them how to make the symbols for dollars and cents. Then I gave them each assignments for stickers and they wrote them up (I figured if our customers were confused by their handwriting, it would be an easy thing for Brendan or me to interpret for them).



I don't know if it's possible to capture how much fun we all had.

• "Morgan, I need you to make a 50 cents sticker! Ryan, give me one for 1 dollar! Okay, put yours here, and yours goes here. Now let's move the priced merchandise to this part of the room so we can keep track of how many more items we need to price. What do you think we should put on this game? 25 cents? Go for it!"

• "Mom! Mom! Here's my 50 cents sticker! I made the cents sign and look at my '5'!"

• "Mom! I moved these books over here and priced them already. Whaddya think?"

Sigh. My own little sweat shop. Good times.


Now you need to understand that part of the reason we choose not to participate in garage sales is due to the insistence by our HOA and the general garage-sale-going public that garage sales must start at an ungodly hour of the morning, before anyone in their right mind, let alone anyone with a baby, ought to be awake and organized and sitting in a folding chair out in the front yard. Many's the year we've been more or less prepared to sell some of our crap lovely, useful, gently used items and we've simply decided it was so not worth it on Garage Sale morning when faced with the daunting task of, you know, rolling out of bed.

But those were the days before we hired Ryan to be an integral part of the team. Bright and early Saturday morning, he was up up up up up and ready to go! I don't remember which of us he woke up first, but suddenly Brendan and I found ourselves standing outside in the sunlight. The guys set up some tables and began to haul our products out, while I fed the baby.

The kid was SO excited and full of ideas: "I'm going to make a sign with the name of our company!" And he did. It read: "Garage Sale Team." He elaborately detailed a plan to steal customers from our competitors (only he didn't call it that). He merely suggested that he ride his scooter up and down our street, visiting our neighbors' sales and informing their visitors that we had "games and a car top thingy and a big picture." I explained to him what advertising is, and he was DELIGHTED with himself. And then he got on his scooter. :o)



He helped us price and re-price the cartop luggage holder (which didn't sell, alas), and scrubbed it clean to make it more attractive. He greeted our visitors with a "Hi! Would you like to buy something?" and he helped us "face" the games so that more of them would be visible to our potential customers.


He made himself a nametag and carried around a pen hooked to his shirt, in case any last minute price rollbacks became urgently necessary.



He was so excited that he actually missed our first sale--a boy just a little bit older than he is bought a Simpsons chess set for $1. But he cheerfully took the dollar from Brendan and then proceeded to create a foolproof plan to safeguard our money from Bad Guys (complete with Scooby Doo style booby traps).

I just love this kid so much, I almost wish we could have a garage sale every weekend, just to see him in action!

Morgan awoke at her usual time, and wandered out into the yard in her footie jammies. She looked cute, which I'm sure was an attraction to our customers, but really couldn't be bothered with the whole business, and spent the majority of the sale inside watching Mary Poppins on The Big Wall. Sean was not helpful in any sense of the word, and so he played Pass the Baby with Brendan and me most of the time. Ryan was particularly annoyed with Sean's interest in rearranging the products and touching all of that glorious money.

Financially, this was one of our worst garage sales ever. I think we made about 10 bucks, and I gave Ryan half of it for all of his help and enthusiasm. We did not get rid of the cartop thingy or our big flowery picture or most of the games. I always say I'll eBay stuff, but I know I really won't, because that involves taking pictures, downloading them, uploading them, posting an ad to eBay and then making a trip to the post office and that's just too much for me to really ever be bothered with. So I'll probably take most of it to the donation center, although if you're in the market for pregnancy/breastfeeding books, or know of a place I could donate them to, I'd be happy to help out.

But in another way, this was our most successful garage sale ever in the universe. Both older kids assisted in their own way, and learned quite a bit, too. They learned how to write prices and place the stickers in a spot for customers to easily read. Ryan in particular learned all kinds of good things about running a business--from marketing to price-setting to operations to customer service.

As a Homeschooling, Capitalist, MBA Mommy, I couldn't be prouder of that!