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