Why You Have to Do Your Homework

10) Because some day, you will have to help your munchkins with their homework and it's frankly embarrasing to have to google the formula for finding the area of an obtuse triangle.  I did it. No I'm not sharing. You'll have to google too.  See. You should have studied more.

9) It doesn't matter that you're not supposed to live out your life vicariously through your children, every A feels like a victory, every grade below a B- smells more and more like the socks you haven't washed.

8) That book I blew off back in fifth grade? It's the summer reading assignment.  I will spend the next three months trying to explain how good this tome is...that I didn't read then...I will wind up reading it.   So you.  Do it now! It will save time.

7) There will be a test.  Just saying.

6) Mom will be unhappy.  You wouldn't like Mom when she's unhappy.

5) If you skip the assignments, you get to do the dishes. You are part of a family of 12.  By my calculations, you will have 60 dishes plus the pots and pans.   Now...which do you think takes longer, math or the dishes? Which do you prefer?

4) This is one of those life lessons.  Mom can lecture or you can just accept it...cueing up boring lecture in 5....4....3....2....see, life lesson learned! 

3) If you don't do it, your sisters that are in lower grades will catch up.  They might even lap you.  Oh girls...

2) The TV, Computer, Wii, and all screens will not gain power and be able to work until you do.  I changed the codes.

1) Because I said so.

Is This Thing On?

Ever have one of those days when you're quite certain the mute button has been selected and everyone else knows but you?  

"Could you shut the door?"  I ask as five children march out with the plan of playing soccer.  Not one hears.  Not wanting to make a big stink, I just shut the door.  I look out, it's hot, they've decided to start with Popsicles first.  I open the garage to remind them as they're passing out the pops, "Be sure and close the freezer and shut the garage door."  Five minutes later, after I've rodeoed the laundry along, I follow up and the freezer is slightly ajar and both doors to the garage are wide open, all the bikes having been taken out for inspection. 

"This is fine, but you need to put the bikes away when you're done."  I get nods in between sticky happy Popsicle licks. 

Thirty minutes later as I'm doing the dishes, I look out the window and spy three bikes, two trikes, a scooter and five skates along with 15 pieces of chalk abandoned and awaiting crushing by my van the moment I move the car. 

Like an Infomercial, I don't presume it's the message that's being rejected, it's just I'm  not using enough SHAM WOW volume.  So I summon the troops.  When they come, the commercial I planned is interrupted by a public safety message as all of the kiddos have red, green, blue or orange tints to their hands and faces.  I'm going to have to scald the doorknob to remove all the sugar and dye.  By the time I finish the cue of cleaning, they've settled by the TV.  Perfect.  

I turn off the TV and begin my pitch. "Hello Folks!  Are You Tired of Having Your House a Mess When All that's needed is for Kids to Put Their Things Away?  Have you been Asking and find that No One hears a word you say?  Well now, there's Momitis.  That's right, Momitis.  Momitis is the SIMPLE patented Method of Ensuring ALL Your TROUBLES are Over.  Use Momitis when you want the bikes put away.  When you want doors shut or lights turned off.  Momitis also works on excessive Television watching, getting homework done and solves pesky hunts for SOCKS."   The kids are giggling.
"HOW DOES IT WORK YOU ASK?" 

"IT's As Easy as MOM and APPLE PIE.  You state the desired chore.  "Turn off the Bathroom Light."  Point to the desired child.  I pointed to an eager and entranced six year old, and then say "Please." and watch that KID go!"  Sure enough, the six year old ran up the stairs and turned off the light.  When he comes back down the stairs.  "Wasn't that amazing." I clap.  The other kids clap.   "But, let's try it again.  Go Make your Beds. Please."  and this time three scramble to comply.   "What fabulous results but wait, there's still more!" 

Moms, you can use this effective product for the low low price of a few kisses and hugs.  Pay 2 now and give two more when you receive the desired effect.  MOMITIS is not sold in stores or online.  You CAN ONLY GET IT HERE.

MOMITIS works best when children listen and Moms give clear directions but what about a more complex task like putting all the bikes and skates and scooters away so we won't destroy them with the car?   The kids lined up for their prepaid hugs.   And returned for prompt payment in full.  

The thing is, one can only SHAM WOM mom for so long, it's exhausting.  But the bikes were cleared, the beds made and I hadn't yet used up kid good will in the process when we still had grocery shopping and a few errands later in the day.   While working on the computer, I heard kid versions of the infomercial being used to get books, snacks and trade chores. I heard one child trying to infomercial his way into getting his sister to part with her end of school year chocolate from a party.  The sister was feeling oppressed until I called out, "ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTIONS or CHEAP KNOCK OFFS.  MOMITIS, ONLY Available BY MOMS FOR MOMS."

Debug System Failure

My son, being nine, has honed driving his older sister absolutely crazy into an art form. Button pushing isn’t a choice for him, it’s a way of life.

“Ignore him.” I explained when her brother was playing Safari and kept shooting her with his fake gun and saying, “I bagged a hippo, I got bonus points…I got an elephant…extra bonus points…you know why you get bonus points don’t you?”
She sighed, “Mom? Don't I get credit for not punching him?”

"Yes." But this was insufficient praise for not having the satisfying smack of hitting her brother, so I tried diversion. “Help me make breakfast.” I was making muffins. She considered the prospect and agreed. There was a momentary cease fire in the fight.

Teasing only works if the victim is being actively tormented. His other older sister simply put on her MP3 player. His younger sister wasn't outside and his younger brother wasn't a big enough target, so the safari king came in to hunt his favorite quarry.

I tried a preemptive disarmament strategy. Handing him breakfast with the added point, “Your sister made it.” Didn’t garner a positive response, simply an affirmative grunt, but the teasing had been momentarily suspended by the presence of food.

Now it was lecture time. Mom spoke in her Mom lecture tone…and I saw the brains tune out. I felt like the UN. I needed a more effective model for obedience than my home persona so I pulled out the teacher voice and became Mrs. Antonetti.

“What do they teach you at school about teasing?” I asked my son.
“The Debug system. We need to ignore the teasing. Then we need to walk away. Then if it continues, we say in a nice firm voice, “Please stop.” If that doesn’t work, we get a teacher.”

“Okay. I want you two to Debug each other from now on, instead of running straight to me. Pretend I'm a teacher. I used to be. I have the degree.”

“Can’t.”
“Won’t work.” My daughter added. Both of them were agreeing.

“Why not? You both know it. You both understand it. I could give detentions if that would help.”

“Mom! You can't give detentions. If they're done at home, they're just time outs."
"Fine, I'll drive to school. You can stand in a corner there."

"Mom, you're not going to load up the car to drive us to school to stand in time out. Besides, if it happens after 7pm..."
"Then you'll just go to bed."
"Teachers don't do that."

"Look, just don't listen to him when he's being rude...and you....Stop Being Rude!"

"I can’t ignore him.”
“Yeah, and she bugs me.”

“Look,” I said, giving them both my undivided attention, “Just pretend it’s me talking. Pretend it’s me saying, “Clean your room. Hang up your coat. Put away your shoes, clear the table. Read. Do your homework.”

“But those are boring things to do.”
“Exactly. Whenever your brother teases you, pretend it’s me. Whenever your sister annoys you, pretend it’s me.”

They blinked, as if they hadn’t heard. One was digging his elbow into the other’s as they stood at the kitchen island not hearing my lecture. “Just like that.” I explained.

At this point, my husband walked by, “I’m not sure that’s the lesson we want taught.”

“Don’t worry love,” I answered, “they weren’t listening.”