Summer Survival Part 3

Here is something I wish someone had told me ten years ago: Never underestimate the power of a good jar.

Allow me to explain. It all started when I bought a jar of small plastic frogs (sold as math counters at a teacher/parent store) to help my piano students learn their notes on the piano.

The frogs fulfilled their intended purpose with mediocrity, but it wasn't long before I discovered the full extent of their power elsewhere. To my then five, three and one-year-olds, the frog jar was a fascinating new toy, made even more enticing by the fact that I wouldn't let them play with it.

One day, desperate after enduring yet another round of screaming sibling arguments, I pulled out the frog jar. I dumped out the frogs, labeled the empty container the Kindness Jar, and told the kids that they would get to put a frog in the jar every time they were nice to their sibling or to me. If they fought or did something mean, they would lose a frog.

When they realized I was giving them permission to actually touch the forbidden frogs, they enthusiastically jumped on board. I didn't even need to offer a prize for when they filled the jar up. The simple act of getting to handle the frogs and watching them accumulate in the jar was enough to encourage them to be kind.

And so the concept of a "rewards jar" became a regular part of our family.

Since that first frog jar we have employed this method as needed over and over again. Whenever I see a need, I pull out the jar. We focus on the target behavior for awhile, until reform renders the jar unnecessary. Then I put it away until next time. Most notably, we've used a rewards jar to regulate screen usage, keep the house clean, and to encourage obedience and kindness. The jars we've used have changed over the years, as have the items we fill them with. In my experience, introducing a fun new incentive jar effectively raises excitement for what is, essentially, the same old thing. Here is our current jar, the Gem Jar:

As amazing as rewards jars are, the novelty of watching frogs mysteriously multiply inside of a tub wore off after a year or so. It therefore became necessary to attach some sort of award for filling up our jars. Our awards have ranged in extravagance from a fun family outing such as ice skating or Chuck E Cheese (yes, we have varying definitions of "fun" in our home), to extra screen time, to something as simple as family trampoline night (where we take blankets out to the trampoline and just hang out as the sun goes down).

My favorite incentive, however, is dessert. I get really tired of my kids asking for dessert after every single meal (even breakfast) and having to explain why the answer is 'no' a zillion times a day. So at one point I decided that the reward for filling up the jar would be dessert and there would be no dessert (or any sweets in the house at all) until the jar was full. I'm sure you can imagine how fast they fill up the jar when they're sugar-deprived. 

So what does all of this have to do with summer survival?

It is during the summer that the rewards jar turns from a good idea into a necessity. Without the distraction of school and friends, sibling issues that tend to hibernate during the school year resurface with a vengeance. And with everyone home all day, keeping the house clean is next to impossible without incentivizing the worker minions. The jar is also useful in getting my gaggle of kids to leave the beach, park or pool when I ask them to (or shortly thereafter--let's be realistic, shall we?).

So there is hope for the summer. It lies in the power of a good jar.

Now that I've had three posts to think through all the summer issues that tend to crop up, I believe I'm ready to put together our daily schedule for this year. Check back next week and I'll share it with you, along with some of the ones I used when my kids were younger.