Making Progress

Sometimes I wonder if we're making any progress with our kids. Sometimes it seems like we're spinning our wheels trying to figure out how to make lessons sink in. And we never give up. Some of the same lectures seem to resurface time after time within the walls of our home, but we all know what happens to kids when they sense a lecture coming on. The other day when I was bursting into lecture mode, Leah said, "You're so chatty." Then she put her fingers against her thumb and started moving them to mimic my mouth talking. A sure sign that the words coming out of my mouth were just words with no meaning to her whatsoever.

We try to teach the girls to be responsible and to learn the value of money. We want them to experience success in life that comes from their own effort and good, hard work. Jared and I were both taught how to work and be responsible, and now that we're trying to teach the same lessons to our girls I have a huge respect for our parents' diligence in teaching us this valuable life lesson.

Even though it's painfully slow, I can finally see that we are making progress. It's so slow, that the progress isn't even close to being obvious. I have to dig into memories of the past to convince myself that we are at least a few paces ahead of where we were a year or two ago.

Take Saturday jobs, for example. For years, our girls have fought against Saturday jobs and for years, we have rarely given them a break. I almost can't believe it, but after hundreds of Saturdays of complaining and whining, they seem to have finally accepted the fact that they're going to have to clean a bathroom and vacuum a floor when Saturday rolls around. Not that we still don't get complaints, but they are perhaps more obligatory than confrontational now. Not only are our little princesses more agreeable than in the past, but they're actually doing a good job at cleaning and working. And I can't believe that I've had the stamina to maintain consistency in this area, despite the grumblings, in my 4th decade of life.

I was a proud little mama a couple Saturdays ago when our family was assigned, along with several others, to clean the church. Turns out that the girls & I and one other couple were the only ones who showed up for that piece of fun (Jared was at a merit badge pow-wow with the 11-year old scouts for four hours that morning...I'll opt to clean the church, thank you). But I felt so much pride in my girls as they spent two full hours cleaning white boards, washing tables, wiping door knobs, and feather dusting every piece of furniture in the building. And all of that with no complaining or pity parties. I always say, you never know what you're going to get with kids, and that day I couldn't have been more pleased.

So fast forward a few weeks later to this week. Because it's fall, leaves are spread all over our yard just waiting to be raked and bagged. We've told the girls this is a paying job, but no bites. Every time we drive up to the house or the girls complain about being poor, Jared says, "Look at all that money laying out in our yard." He might as well not say anything at all, because no one even responds. Except for me because he makes me laugh.

But our words don't usually mean anything to the girls until they have an actual, real-life experience. Then sometimes our words finally have meaning.

Today is the last day of the book fair and Leah has been talking all week about a book she wants. And all week, we've told her she can do jobs if she wants to buy the book. And all week, I think she's been thinking we'll cave and get it for her. But we've maintained our position that she can work if she wants to buy something.

So this morning she rushed to get ready so she could spend as much time as possible earning money before the book fair closed and her chances at getting the book she's been dying to read were gone for good. Just as it was time to leave for school, she lifted the last few handfuls of leaves into the garbage bag and announced that she now has enough money to buy her book.

This afternoon I took Leah to the book fair. She paid for "The Ghost of Crutchfield Hall" with her own hard-earned money from her own scanty stash. I'm convinced that this will be one of the more satisfying reads Leah will experience in her young life.

With that success under our belt, now Jared & I have the motivation to continue to encourage the girls to work for at least a while longer. And we're praying that there's more stuff they want to buy because raking those leaves is a pain in the butt.