When David was nine and Laura was twelve,
battles started.Prior to that, they got along great. Laura was always protective of her little brother, and he in turn, doted on her.
Perhaps it was about needing space, asserting independence…whatever
reason, it drove my husband and I crazy. It would start over
tiniest of excuses. One minute
house would be quiet, and
next they'd be shouting at one another.
"Mom, Laura won't give my CD back!"
"It's not yours. It's mine!"
"No it isn't. I got it for Christmas!"
"No you didn't. I did!"
And on and on it would go. Until, finally, one of us would have to intervene. And there would be a truce…sort of. At least until
next blowup.
We hated
atmosphere of tension that would invariably follow these exchanges. Our once happy home was being turned into a war zone, and it felt like there were land mines scattered beneath our feet.
One night, in desperation, we had a conference. We called
kids into
living room and told them how upsetting their behavior was. We asked them for suggestions on how we could restore peace and serenity back into
family.
Off to their rooms
Well, we didn't resolve anything on
spot. We sent them to their rooms with instructions to each come up with a half dozen appropriate consequences that we could impose
next time they had a fight.
The following day we were presented with a list of consequences from each. Some even looked pretty good. Examples: Clean
other person's room; Do dishes for
other person; Make
other person's bed for a week; Lend your favorite CD or game to
other person for a week; Make a list of 10 good things about
other person; Hug and make up….
We decided to arrange
consequences around
perimeter of a board, and then we attached a spinner in
middle. When you gave it a spin,
spinner would eventually stop and point to one of
consequences. Then we hung
board up in
kitchen, in plain sight. We crossed our fingers, and waited.
And waited.
It was amazing. Just
presence of
board, hanging on our kitchen wall, had an instant calming effect on
atmosphere in our home. Occasionally we'd see one of
kids standing in front of
board, idly flicking
spinner, checking it out. But
fighting had stopped.
Well not forever. It took about ten days before they forgot about
board and peace was shattered by another battle.
We were ready.
We called them both into
kitchen, took
board down off
wall, and placed it on
table. They knew what they had to do. How could they refuse? They chose
consequences. They practically invented
board. It landed on
most dreaded consequence of all: Hug and make up!
The tension was broken as they awkwardly gave each other a hug, mumbling apologies. We all had a good laugh, and life resumed.
Maybe we're on to something