Grounding Update: The Make Mom Laugh edition

The instant the boys saw their "ungrounding lists", they were scheming for loopholes and ways to minimize the impact.  The negotiations and whining were fast and furious.  WHAT??? Only 50 points for composing a WHOLE SONG???? (which shouldn't be a punishment anyway... I just wanted to put some fun, productive things on there!).  They quickly looked at which things could double up - for example, playing outside for an hour could be combined with building a snowman and shoveling the front walk way.  Right.  I'm good with that.  Smart and efficient.  But I had to run an errand, which left the kids on their own for a bit.  I left at precisely 5:15, and was home by precisely 6:00 pm.  I know this because I checked my phone, and got to my destination exactly 1 minute early at 5:29 pm.  I also know this because I received a text requesting dinner from a hungry husband as soon as I pulled back into the garage at 6 pm (my response:  "Ask your kids.  They're making dinner tonight!")  So the length of time I was absent was well noted, and documented.  And YET... in that 45 minutes I was gone, my son Colby miraculously bent the rules of time and space and not only played outside for an HOUR, BUT ALSO READ FOR 30 MINUTES!  All while building a snowman and shoveling the front walk way!  Isn't he amazing?!?!?!  When I pointed out this lack of reality, he was having none of it.  He did!  He really did do an hour and a half of activities in the 45 minutes I was gone!  He set the timer and everything for both activities, so he KNOWS he did!  And nothing you say means anything Mom!  And he deserves more than 50 points for making a song because he worked on it ALL DAY (despite, you know, being at school until 4 pm, and reportedly spending an hour and half reading and playing outside, as well as eating dinner with his family).  This is probably what got us into the "missing the bus" issue in the first place.... absolutely no accurate concept of the passing of time.  8 hours on the computer is "I JUST GOT ON!"  Reading a chapter in a book is "I'VE BEEN READING ALL DAY!"  Five minutes until the bus comes is "FOREVER AWAY".  You get the drift.

ANYWAYS.... one of the items on their list is writing a kind letter to a sibling.  This kills my boys.  Kills them.  We are not a family that knows how to be kind or build each other up - only laugh at and point out each other's flaws and mistakes (obviously, as you can see from the paragraph above, I'm just as bad at this as the rest of them).  But it bothers me.  We should be "Team Aho".  We should have each other's back.  Our family, our home, should be the place we feel safest and most loved.  So, what better way than to force the children to express themselves ;).  This is what the boys wrote to each other (the letter could be to either sibling, but of course the boys wrote to each other).  Here's Quinn's:

In case you can't read his messy writing:  "To Colby.  This is a kind letter.  Expect clichés".  And then he labeled his drawing "rainbow, your art 3 second drawing", and "chubby bunny".

"Do not listen to this.  Mom made me.  Mom= Illuminati"

"Hey Colby.  I wanted to tell you how much I appreate (sic) you.  I know you can be a little out of hand some times, but if you didn't exist, I would be kind of lonely.  I know that must sound kind of chessy (sic) but I love you.  Quinn Aho.

And Colby decided to write his in total "meme" language, that only Quinn would supposedly understand, keeping it a secret from old-person eyes.    It begins "Freaking Friendly Letter.  YAAAAAAY!" 

"Hi Quinn.  Dope most lit home studly here and I am writing did from my Tomas the dank engine to tell you that without your nooby skills I couldn't practice my dope skills at game, so thx boi. Love, from Colby"

So, the kindest thing he could think of to tell his brother is that he's not as good at video games, and it makes Colby look good.  So thanks for that, boy. 

[Insert maternal eye roll here]

These boys. 

But I did find this in the yard when I came home:

He Opened His Big Mouth....

So, at 7:25 this morning, I calmly said to my children "The bus will be here in exactly 10 minutes.  If you are not ready and you miss the bus, you will be grounded for a month.  I will not nag you from this moment forward."  I said it.  Plain as day, and they all three heard it.  And yet still played the piano, walked around lackadaisically, took five of those minutes to put toothpaste on their toothbrush, and then scrambled looking for shoes that were not put away, or coats that were not hung up.  And... you guessed it... they missed the bus.  All of them.  So I HAD to follow through. 

Reagan, who is always the first one ready, and has never before missed the bus, was distraught.  She rode to school with her head in her lap. 

"Even ME, Mom?  But I wasn't messing around!"

"Yes, Reagan, even you.  Because after I woke you up, you laid on the couch for 10 minutes instead of getting ready for school."  (She whimpered and put her head back down in her lap).

"Don't be upset!" says I in a chipper voice.  "This is a learning opportunity!  You all are old enough to get yourselves ready without your mother's constant nagging.  You all know how to tell time.  You know what you need to do to get out the door on time.  This is a natural consequence to your own actions."

"But MOM!" Quinn cried.  "The homily at church yesterday was about mercy!  And forgiveness!  About no harsh punishments, but consequences that right the wrong!"

"I forgive you.  But in order to recompense me for the time it takes to drive you to school, and the money it takes in gas to bring you there, and to teach you a valuable lesson.... still grounded for a month."

All three kids thought this was unduly harsh, and said so with much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Quinn:  "I will pay you the dollar in gas it takes to drive us to and from school.  And I will do chores for the one hour out of your day it takes to take us into town and back.  Then we'll be even, and the wrong will be righted."

Mom: "Ahhhh, but you won't have learned any other skills, and that won't be enough of a deterrent so that it doesn't happen again!  It won't teach you to manage your time wisely.  And what kind of parent would I be if I didn't follow through on what I said I was going to do?"

"Then how about this," Colby said.  "How about we're not grounded for a length of time, but we have a certain point goal.  If we earn like 500 points by doing chores, we can get UNgrounded!"

THAT, my friend.... is brilliant.  I love it.  And said so.  Of course, as soon as he realized what he'd said, he back pedaled considerably.  "OR go with Quinn paying you a dollar!  Do that one!  Do that one!"

"No, Colby.  I absolutely love your idea, and that's what we're going to do.  You will be grounded only as long as it takes you to earn 500 points a piece.  I will make your charts, and they'll be ready for you when you get home.  Then YOU are in control of your own destiny, and YOU can make amends without Mom having to monitor and nag.  Clear expectations, clear ending.  Plus, you're learning valuable skills, and you all are going to have to help out when I'm in isolation anyway.  So that's it!"

He regretted it as soon as he said it, but it was so smart, and such a great idea... we're going to go with it.  This is what I came up with, while the kids were at school:

Gushing, 12 year old boy style

Quinn: "Happy Valentine's Day, Mom.  I have a strong regard for you."
Mom: "I have fond affection for you as well, Quinn."

100th Day of School

Tomorrow is the 100th Day of School, which Reagan is very excited about. Her brothers... not so much.  As they were getting ready for school this morning,  this was our exchange:

Mom: "Quinn!  Look at you!  Your hair isn't combed, your sweatshirt is filthy, your pants are too short!  You can't go out in public looking like that!"

Quinn: "No one cares, Mom."

Mom: "I care!  You look like a homeless child!"

Quinn: "Mom, it's the 100th day of school.  It's just a long, down-hill slide to the end.  I'm letting myself go."

Nice.  What kind of mother does this kid have????

His Signature Look

So, Colby got THESE for Christmas from Grandma Betty and Grandpa Jim:

His logo that he designed for himself, for his future "animations", on three sweatshirts.  His avatar, I guess.  Or whatever.  In black, gray, and navy blue renditions.

Since Christmas, he has worn nothing but.  Except, apparently the black is his MOST "signature look", and so he really only wears the black one.  Under duress (so I could wash the other) he wore the navy blue one for a single day.  But for the past 11 days, he has worn literally nothing but this single sweatshirt.  Today, I noticed that he had on his coat from the second he got out of bed.

"Colby, you can't hide it.  I know you're wearing that sweatshirt again.  You need to put new clothes on every day."  So I sent him back upstairs to change.  Then he came down... once again in his coat. 

"Colby, show me your shirt."

He unzipped his coat, and I found a hoodie.  I unzipped the hoodie and found... yes... a black sweatshirt.  This time turned around backwards so that he could be sneaky, and flip it back around as soon as he got to school.

Grandma and grandpa.... he loves his Christmas gift. 

But it's getting a little out of hand. 

:

Middle School Mannequin Challenge

Getting that many 7th graders to sit still that long is quite the feat!!

Wheeler Deelers

During Grandma and Grandpa's visit, we rediscovered the kids' long lost Geotrax Train set - which we had assumed Grandma had tossed at her last visit.  Apparently, she had instead stored it in an old bathtub, without our knowledge.  Rob told the boys that if they sold their newly discovered "treasure", they could keep the cash.  They have been working ALL DAY putting the set together, finding the missing pieces, arranging it for the perfect Craigslist picture. 

I overheard them from upstairs.
"How much should we ask for it?  $100?"
"No way!! $1000!"
"$1000?  Really?"
"Someone will totally pay $1000 for all this stuff.  They're out there.  Believe it."

Sure.  Sure some schmuck will pay $1000 for my kids' old plastic train set that's been sitting in a bath tub for the past three years.  Sure they will.  Who am I to squash their wheeler deeler dreams?