When my first born entered the world I entered the mysterious role of parent. She was an answer to my dreams and I marveled at everything about her, including her messy diapers. All was amazing. In my newfound euphoria, I would tiptoe into her room in the middle of the night and bask in the glow of the nightlight as I gazed upon her new belongings and smiled that all was well. For now, I was the one who put the little bear on the shelf and set some books just-so. In the near future more belongings would be added and she would be the one handling them. Bliss.
What I didn't learn right away was that while it was a joy to see her developing and exploring, I needed to teach her how to take care of her things, too. Yes, I was the mom who ran the Duplos through the dishwasher and rearranged her stacking cups and took inventory of the toy basket in the living room. I loved putting everything away for her.
Her artistic flair emerged early so we were long on the craft supples. By the time she was in Kindergarten, my self-proclaimed "Junk Artist" was collecting empty containers, bits of string, bottle caps and just about anything that could be repurposed and cut, taped, glued or nailed into a "sculpture". Since her art was so meaningful, I took seriously her desire to save things and soon found a large moving box to keep these possibilities in the garage for the moment when a whim hit.
After awhile she was less interested in that form of art, but because she might get back to it one day, I ignorantly saved the box. It wasn't until we moved in Second Grade that I struggled but parted with the contents of her box.
That is when I asked myself the all-important parenting question: Why does that mean more to me than it does to her? Talk about an eye-opener! I was managing her junk and she was off doing something else with complete abandon. Time to switch that around. Just because I loved her and everything that touched her life didn't mean I needed to be the one to handle it.
After I dumped out all the junk from that big box, it was my turn to repurpose and The Take-Away-Box was born. Since that time, I have introduced this concept to hundreds of parents in a variety of venues. My daughter once said, "Mom. Please quit telling all my friends' parents your ideas. They are getting mad at me."
Here's how it works. All you need is a kid who gets some allowance regularly and a big box. I did not pay allowance for chores, it was given to teach money management. (Save, Give, Spend.) Our expectation was that by bedtime each night, all items and toys were to be picked up and put away. After they went to bed, if I found something out of place it went in the Take-Away-Box and had to be bought back. Each item was a quarter, so a pair of shoes in the middle of the room cost 50 cents to redeem. After my daughter taught me that she would just leave that pair of shoes in the Box and wear another pair, I introduced the principle of compound interest. It now cost a quarter each day and if items were still there at the end of the month they were donated.
Markers, Barbies, books, coats and even a violin had to be bought back. It still makes me chuckle to recall the day my girl had to buy her raincoat back because it was raining. And was she ever bummed to have left all those Legos out!
This was such a de-stressor for our family. We would just calmly plop the out-of-place item in the Box and go about our own business. No lectures. No comments. We were very pleasant about the "deposits". Sometimes I would rub my hands together and ask what she planned to leave out because "Mama wants a Mocha!" At the height of the season that we used The Take-Away-Box I did get about one "free" Mocha a week. After ourconsistent response to items not put away throughout the house, our kids did learn that they can't drop and leave things all over and began to set their backpacks near the door, pack up the Crayons and put the game in the closet. The best part about this - aside from me Moachas - was that I didn't hear myself nag or repeat instructions. I didn't even have to talk. When they went looking for something the next day and asked about it I would chirp "Oh, that's in the Take-Away-Box." No further discussion. Nothing came out unless it was financially recovered.
Although we didn't pay for basic chores (beds, dishes, garbage) and expected participation with those as family members, we did offer extra opportunities to earn money so there was a cash flow they learned to manage. Bathroom sink and mirror cleaning was 50 cents. Vacuuming a room was one rate, an entire floor another. The Take-Away-Box taught them that if they didn't care for their things no one else was, either. And that larger toy they were saying up to buy might just have to wait because they had to buy back their library books first.
Any child in Kindergarten on up can benefit from this hands-on technique. When they are getting closer to Middle School, it's time to change it up if they are still offending. We did not have to use it very long at all because the kids determined they would rather spend their money on other things. I sure did like those Mochas though.
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