Less is More

In the past nine months there have been busted basketballs, broken bicycles, dismantled RC vehicles, ripped clothing, holes in the drywall, mangled toys...all because he claims he's "destructive, that's just the way I am."

We celebrated his birthday at the beginning of the month with a small family party: a favorite meal, cake, ice cream, simple gifts - a new fishing rod and some tackle for his collection. Despite my forethought of putting the gifts away for safe-keeping until a fishing opportunity presented itself, my man squirreled his possessions in his closet where I found him a few days later - reel in one hand, rod in the other, fishing line tangled and trashed all around him. With no emotion and very few words, I gathered the mess and walked it to the trash dumpster.

Frustrated, yes. Angry, not so much. When kids come from places without boundaries and are permitted to treat people and things disrespectfully without consequences, a sense of entitlement seems to develop: Why should he bother to care if no one has ever bothered to care about him.The attitude of "nothing really matters" grows from a heart of a young boy who feels that HE doesn't really matter.

I decided that we were expecting too much. Our man needed to practice caring for and respecting a little before we could possibly demand of him to respect a lot. So this was the plan...

Taking advantage of a weekend when several of the kids were away - more quiet, less questions - this guy's bedroom was stripped of all but a few items: comb, Bible, family photo, pillow, sheets and blankets. Boxes of puzzle pieces, loose batteries, tiny screws, odds and ends of various board games, and paper trash were carted to the dumpster. All clothing was washed, dried, folded and stored in bins in our bedroom. A clean slate.

Upon arriving home on Sunday, I explained that Daddy and I had not been fair. We had expected him to know what to do with so much; we hadn't given him time to relax and learn; we had imposed consequences before he was able to be responsible. To make life easier, I explained, we had pared down the things he needed to be responsible for.

We went upstairs and I toured his bedroom with him. Then we went to his clothing bins where he chose five outfits to wear for the next week. The deal is that when he very responsibly brings ALL the dirty clothes to be washed on Friday, he will earn the right to choose another five outfits. If, however, the laundry is not cared for responsibly, he will lose the privilege of choosing his own outfits and will be given only four days worth of clothing at a time. He will help us to know how much is too much responsibility.

Similarly, the school backpack had become a breeding ground for overdue library books, unsigned tests, and incomplete homework assignments. A few weeks ago we traded the backpack in for a simple tote bag with one big pocket - it's much harder to "lose" things in one big pocket.

Just today life was simplified yet again when damage that occurred in the basement play area could not (would not?) be accounted for. For the next few days his responsibilities have been decreased to include only the main floor of the house where he can be more easily held responsible and accountable.

This is not a good feeling. I want to give things to my children, not take them away. But as I reminded this son of mine tonight before bed, the only thing that there is not less of is my love for him.  Of that there can never be less and there can never be more. It just is.