Corks and Caps and Kids

We have a currency of corks and caps in our house. When someone treads dangerously close to the line of bad behavior, my husband or I caution, “That’s your warning. Do it again and it’s a bottle cap.” And sometimes when we see stellar behavior, as in when one sibling actually helps another, you’ll hear us say, “Aww, that was great. You get a cork for that.”

This system is the latest evolution of discipline in our long line of creative solutions to the age old problem of how-do-you-make-your-kids-act-right. It’s very simple really. Each of the kids has a large mason jar in a basket on the piano. Whenever we catch our children doing something good we put a cork in their jar. And whenever we catch our children doing something bad (or neglecting to do something good when the option is there to do, say, their assigned kitchen chore), we put a bottle cap in the jar.

Let me explain about the corks and caps. For this new system we needed something small that we already had lying around. As I’ve explained before I have difficulty throwing out things that can’t be recycled and could one day prove useful. Hence, the caps and corks. The colorful plastic caps from bottles were collected for sorting games for my toddlers, but once they outgrew the thrill of hundreds of small bright plastic disks, I couldn’t give up the compulsion to stock pile them. Lucky for me, the art teacher at the elementary school loves caps and puts them to use in beautiful mosaics. The corks have been collecting since I first attached myself to the man I call my husband. We used to write the occasion and date on the corks, but now we just toss them in a drawer. I have plans to make something useful out of them someday, but that day hasn’t arrived. So corks and caps we have in great abundance. Perfect for the latest parenting endeavor.

When any child accrues 8 corks, he or she may trade them in for a prize (see below). The corks continue to accumulate until they reach 15 corks and then the prizes get even better (see below). After that, the corks get dumped back in to the cork drawer. The bottle caps work a little differently. If a child manages to garner 5 bottle caps, he or she loses all screen privileges (ALL screens) for the following weekend. They may give up 2 corks to remove 1 bottle cap but only until they reach 4, but on that 5th cap there is no escape. (This was a technicality quickly developed by my youngest and wiliest child.) Each Sunday night all caps magically disappear and Monday morning begins with a cap-free jar.

Maybe this seems like a little too much effort, but it sure beats yelling and threatening and then trying to remember what you threatened. It helps us reward the good stuff like running up to shut the chicken coop in the dark when it’s raining, helping your brother with his homework, carrying in the groceries, or doing something thoughtful without being asked. My daughter recently spent an evening helping her little brother (the very same child who that morning she proclaimed she would hate FOREVER!) to master the hand brakes on his bike – 2 corks for that one!

Amazingly, no one has yet earned 5 caps. In fact, the mere threat of a cap usually causes the offender to turn the other cheek. Even I didn’t think this system would work so well. We are six weeks in and all I’ve had to give up is a couple sleepovers and a cherry cheesecake. Mostly they choose the extra time on the computer.

Just in case you’d like to adopt this system for yourself, here are the details on ours. We think it's only fair to spell out exactly what earns you a cap or cork. I’m sure yours might be different, but this’ll get you started.

Expectations - Consequences
1 Treat each other with respect and kindness. Consequences: One Cap  (One warning)

2 Do not hit, kick, or in any way physically harm each other or the pets. Consequences: One Cap (no warnings)

3 No Back-talk or deliberate lying. Consequences:Two Caps (no warnings)

4 No Hurtful Words: “freak”, “idiot”, “shut up”, “hate” or others TBD. Consequences: One Cap (One warning)

5 Get yourself ready for school (fix breakfast, pack lunch, pack up back pack, take vitamins, brush teeth, and remember the things you need to have for the day like sneakers, instrument, etc.)  Consequences: One Cap (One reminder)

6 Do your kitchen chore each weeknight. Consequences: one Cap (one reminder)
7 Take care of your pet (Raisin, Hans, Cody). Consequences: One cap  (one reminder)

8 Put your dirty clothes in the laundry room sorted by color in to the separate bags by Monday morning.
consequences: no clean clothes  (one reminder)

9 Put away your clean clothes the same day they are returned to you. Consequences: No Clean Laundry (one reminder)

10 Do your weekend chore each weekend. Consequences: Two Caps (one reminder)

11 Keep your room reasonably clean and vacuum it once a month. Consequences: No Friends In/out (one reminder)

Five caps in one week: Lose all screens for the following weekend.

Corks

1. Doing something nice for someone else.

2. Cleaning something you don’t have to clean.

3. Good grade on a test/project. (eventually clarified to A+ as we were bleeding corks on this one)

4. Feeding dogs

5. Taking care of Kernel [our blind chicken] -clean cage & change water or walk her

6. Helping with barn chores

7. Cleaning up yard

8. Unloading the dishwasher

9. Anytime mommy or daddy thinks you’ve done something deserving of a bonus

10. Writing a letter to a relative (real letter, not e-mail)

When you earn 8 corks, you can choose from the following rewards (keep adding corks to get to 15)

1. pick the movie night movie

2. decide the menu for one dinner that week

3. choose a special dessert or snack for one time that week

4. earn an extra ½ hour on the computer

5. propose a reward for approval

When you have 15 corks, you can choose from the following rewards:

1. sleepover

2. date night – movie, dinner out with parent or friend

3. new book from Amazon or Scholastic

4. watch an extra movie that you pick

5. earn an extra hour on the computer

We're In the Same Herd

Humans don’t hold the patent on meanness. Animals can be just as cruel. And depending on your view of evolution, maybe that’s where it originates. This morning I opened the barn door expecting to find a dead chicken and discovered that little Kernel (a pretty Buff Orpington who tends towards the broody side) was still hanging on. For reasons, unknown to us, the other chickens attacked and pecked out her eyes. I don’t lay very tall odds on a blind chicken. In order to survive, a chicken needs to be able to retain the whereabouts of her food and water. Sadly, this is beyond the capabilities of the average chicken. My daughter gently showed Kernel where to find her food and water and Kernel promptly forgot. (or maybe she’s just not interested)

Kernel’s plight saddens me, but what really breaks my heart are the endless stories of bullying and meanness amongst humans. We humans have brains. And we are capable of compassion, creativity, and logic. Why is it we don’t evolve any further along than my flock of chickens when it comes to how we treat each other?

There is no need to be mean. It does nothing but hurt the other person and poison your own heart. I believe it takes much more effort to be mean, than to be kind. When I hear my own children being cruel to each other, I admonish them that they are on the same team. They look at me, roll their eyes, but generally back off. Watching my youngest son’s game yesterday it was funny when three players wearing the same jerseys fought for a ball and ultimately knocked each other over, forfeiting the ball in the process. “You’re on the same team!” yelled a coach, shaking his head. Why is that so hard for us to grasp?

Just like the sports teams in the intramural league my kids play in, we are all thrown together pretty haphazardly from all walks of life. The only thing holding us together is the fact that we play for the same team. Humans have survived in a harsh world over time, not because we have brains, but because we have used those brains to cooperate and ban together. Without a community, no life would have taken hold in the original colonies. We need each other.

We have to believe we’re in the same herd. This morning when I was working my horse, I thought a lot about that idea. I learn much more from animals than books. This particular horse is a five-year-old sissy. He’s afraid to leave the other horses. He wants to be with his herd ALL the time. (Never mind that his “herd” are two geriatric ponies that avoid being within hoofshot of him) In the past month, I’ve been trying to convince this horse that we are a herd of two. I tell him this all the time, tapping him on the forehead and then tapping my heart, as I remind him, “You and me, we’re a herd of two.” I don’t really expect him to understand my words, but I think he senses my commitment. He’s learning that he is just fine when he’s with me, there’s really no reason to high-tail it for home simply because a branch cast a shadow or a squirrel shimmied up a tree. It’s not really that scary. Thankfully, he’s beginning to refrain from doing “stupid” things just because he’s scared without his herd.

I think we do lots of stupid things when we feel like we have lost our herd. Everyone wants to be a part of a herd. We may believe we are independent souls, but really we all want to be part of something. We don’t want to be alone. Even if our herd is just two. And once we find our herd, we consider others who are different, who are not a part of our herd, to be a threat. So we lash out. I think that’s one reason for unnecessary meanness. People are afraid of others who are not like them, who don’t belong to their herd. Somehow we need to begin to see that we’re all a part of the same herd. We play for the same team.

I think the other reason for meanness goes back to that old, wise adage – “monkey see, monkey do”. Truer words were never uttered. When we are children, we do the same thing that the other people in our “herd” do. If we hear adults pointing out another person’s differences, or complaining about others, we do it too. I think we as parents need to be incredibly careful when we talk about others, lest we set an example of judgment.

Children are watching us. They see the times when we are patient with the grumpy sales clerk, the inconsiderate neighbor, or the driver who forgets to signal. And they also watch when our frustration gets the best of us and we say or do things we shouldn’t. Monkey see, monkey do. If we go out of our way to be pleasant and kind, they will too. This sounds like a very simple, easy parenting philosophy, but I’m here to tell you, it ain’t. I growled at my youngest just this morning because he dawdled away the morning and never ate his breakfast. No big deal, but what am I teaching? I didn’t need to be mean, his stomach will point out his mistake by 10:00, no doubt.

And watching our talk about others is even harder. I recently found myself saying some pretty judgmental things about another adult, things that were completely subjective, and, in all honesty, unfair. My oldest son commented, “Wow, that’s pretty harsh.” Smack. I needed that smack to the heart. How do we learn to stop passing judgment? It is not possible to like, let alone, love, all the people in the herd that is our community. But we can be nice. We don’t need to be mean.

I don’t know that Kernel is going to make it. And I don’t know that we won’t lose the next weakest hen soon after. But they are only chickens (don’t tell my kids I said that) and they don’t know better. We do. We can choose to show how much we’ve evolved by watching what we say around our kids and demonstrating kindness at every opportunity. The anti-bullying curriculum the schools teach is great, but it doesn’t have a chance if children see a different message at home in their own herd.