Operation Mommie Dearest

The transition from our lazy summer evenings to our new, nightly back-to-school routine has not gone smoothly.

The kids are having a hard time adjusting to the volume of third grade homework and are starting to buckle from the responsibility of maintaining daily assignment notebooks. As soon as I mention the word homework they start in with the whining and bellyaching.

School work aside, the twins have also become exceptionally moody. This always seems to happen when we have a change in routine. They’re at each other’s throat and alternate between pushing my buttons and each others’. I’m getting tired of having my authority questioned and boundaries tested with such regularity.

And dinnertime has become particularly difficult lately. I find that no matter what I prepare, they poke, complain and stretch dinnertime out much longer than necessary. I’ve gained 5 lbs by simply willing them to eat. Too often, I’ve found myself clearing the table at 7:15, and having barely enough time to finish up homework and begin the bedtime routine by 8.

After one especially tough evening, I collapsed on my bed and vented to Mark. I was feeling battered, bruised and frustrated by my nightly role of task master, cook, housekeeper, teacher and referee. It was just all becoming unmanageable.

Mark confessed that he too, was feeling worn out. His evenings were consumed by running between his house and mine, then quickly jumping into the role of math tutor, Crowbar entertainer and Mom pep talker-er. (Don’t question my spelling –I’m tired and crabby, dammit.) He agreed that the kids seemed to have taken over, monopolizing our time and wearing down our nerves.

Then he shared something his mom always says, "Don't negotiate with a kid."

What he said really resonated with me. It was true, I’d become too tired to fight every little struggle and had essentially created a larger problem – kids who try to (and sometimes successfully) negotiate their way out of things that should be not negotiable.

Together we agreed that:

• Homework should be done quickly, efficiently and accurately.
• Eating dinner should take no longer than 30 minutes.
• All parties, ages 8 and younger, should be in bed, sleeping by 8:30 p.m.

Additionally, we agreed to set the following expectations:

• The dinner menu is non-negotiable and complaining is not allowed.
• Instructions given by grown ups should be followed immediately, and without debate.
• Mad Dog and The Deuce will accept personal responsibility for the condition, completion and organization of their school assignments and materials.
• Special activities, events and purchases are privileges that may be earned and lost – nobody is entitled to any of these things.

So, to accomplish this, we devised Operation Mommie Dearest*.

• Whatever the kids don’t eat after 30 minutes will be re-heated and served for dinner the following night.
• TV time is limited to about an hour a night – and not right before bedtime.
• No more counting to 3 or asking more than once. A negative consequence will be delivered immediately after the first request has not been immediately obeyed.
• TV and other privileges must wait until homework is completed.

Now, aside from the 30-minute dinner time limit, we didn’t come out and broadcast the new house rules. We just quietly rolled them out and have been enforcing them consistently for a few nights now.

I wish I could tell you that our new strategy worked immediately. But, to be honest, it’s just too soon to tell. We’ve seen some small improvements – and let me tell ya, if you could’ve seen the look on the kids’ faces when they were served their leftovers instead of a delicious slice of pizza (like Mark and I enjoyed), you’d be as sure as I am that they’ll think twice before poking away at dinner, wasting time.

I may not win mother of the year with the new zero tolerance Mommie Dearest approach, but I expect to see results.

I'll let y'all know how it goes.

* The name Operation Mommie Dearest should not be taken to imply that Mark's mom is or ever was Joan Crawford-like in any way, shape or form. She's a lovely woman, who successfully raised three kids into responsible, tax-paying, law-abiding adults. In fact, I think so highly of one of her kids, that I'm marrying him. Thanks, M!