Greg and I were having a lot of trouble translating “consistent parenting” into real-life practice.  You hear it over and over, but what the heck does that mean?  I felt like I was constantly inventing new consequences, trying to match the penance to the crime.  It was dizzying.  Are they always in trouble?  Are they never in trouble? What’s too harsh?  What’s too lenient?  It was nearly impossible to punish one without affecting the other (i.e. taking away Saturday morning cartoons).  And they are still fairly little, so the consequence needs to be fairly immediate, or they just didn’t get it.  I couldn’t hit consistency with a shotgun and a 2 mile wide target.

I would love to give credit where credit is due on this idea, but it’s probably an amalgam of several parenting articles Greg and I read and pieced together into our own parenting system.  I think we got the construct from Celebrate Calm, for without their parenting CDs, I’m fairly certain we would have imploded by now.

After much thought, we chose the “pink card system”.  When the girls break rules, sass, or ignore us (basically, all infractions), I say, “I’m giving you a pink card”.  It’s not literal; it’s an imaginary pink card. It’s easily a calm thing to say, and there is no power struggle that ensues, nor any reason to argue or justify the consequence. It’s always the same.  Pinch your sister, get a pink card.  Say “no” to Mommy when asked to to do a task, get a pink card.  Continue to do something they’ve been asked to stop, get a pink card. If they continue on their tirade, I don’t continue to give pink cards, because that’s just a nasty power struggle which nobody wins.  I completely disengage and ask them to go to their room and get control of their mind and body. Upon receipt of their 3rd pink card in any given day, they owe me 25 cents.  Every pink card following the 3rd card costs the offender 25 cents. Now that they have allowance and are perpetually saving for a treasure, quarters are king in our house.  Little girls who see a mess and help out without even being asked, know Mommy has a habit of handing out extra quarters.  Girls who share nicely and voice positive affirmations to each other also occasionally find extra quarters in their hands. I’ve tried to rationalize it’s symmetry with the real world: break the law and get fined.  Work hard and get a raise.

I should note that per Celebrate Calm’s guidance given on their “Stop Defiance and Disrespect” CD, my children are allowed to voice their feelings.  They can be disappointed when play time is over and task time begins.  They can huff. They can moan.  They can even drag their feet a bit.  They simply cannot look me in the eye and say “No!  I’m not doing it!”

They were golden the first day, true to form.  And like a tune that never changes, Day 2-5 were an absolute hell of the girls testing us.  We got rich…fast.  Then the turnaround happened: they both earned and saved enough quarters to buy their first treasures, and after the experience of paying for their own stuffed duck (Kelly…no big surprise), and Kidz Bop 21 (Sara, my little rock star), they were hooked.  Quarters are real money with which they can proudly buy real things, and a calm house with obedient children is a really nice place to live.  My cats have never been so well cared for, my beds have never been so made, and my car has never been so dust-busted.  In preparation for Grandmommy’s visit last week, they BEGGED to help me clean.  It was fabulous.

When they hit Card #2, I like to say, “Oh yeah, I feel those quarters coming.  You know Mommy likes her Hazelnut Lattes.  You’re going to buy me a coffee!”  I usually try to make them giggle and give them affirmation that they are good, and I’m certain this bad behavior is not a reflection of their true selves (again, a gigantic hug and thanks to Kirk Martin at Celebrate Calm), and in only one instance since Day #5 did I get that quarter.  Maybe they are not the rascals I had imagined them to be.  Maybe it’s just calmer now that I’m not getting into power struggles with every infraction.  Maybe I’ve tempted the fates with this daring post, and tomorrow I’ll be drowning in quarters.  It’s hard to say.

At any rate, I wanted to share something we’ve tried that seems to be successful.  That puts our parenting batting average at 1 for 1,000,000. But at least when they bury us with our parenting books and CDs and research studies, they will stand at the pulpit and say, “Greg and Lori may not have been the most gifted of parents, but they sure did give it their best.  Those two over-thought, overpaid, and over-analyzed their way through the entire journey.  God help them.”