July 2006 Archives

Recently I described a way I talk to my kids about doing their chores that takes the pressure off of doing it perfectly. I called it "Track Marks in the Carpet," as in "just make it look like you've vacuumed. Leave track marks in the carpet."

I'm not always consistent about doing this. However, I'm finding that every time I do speak to them in this way, I get good results. That's reinforcing.

Lately I've been doing it more and more. I find that kids like code words, and now "track marks" has become one of our code words.

So instead of the lecturing and long explanations such as "Okay clean up your room as best you can today and then during the week would you try your best to keep up with it and I'll try too," I simply say, "Hey, track marks in your room this week."

They love it. But of course it means we need to adjust our own beliefs about standards. Can it be okay if they do a so-so job? Does this mean they don't care?

I believe it doesn't mean they don't care. It's just as best as their teenage brains can do. And if they're trying, is that good enough? Do we even believe that they're trying?

Sometimes I misinterpret sloppiness as lack of trying. Yet they're trying so hard that I'm frustrating them. That's why I think they sometimes end up underachieving. They don't do that on purpose. it's just that our standards are too high, and it's too much pressure for them.

Here's a children's song you might know. I've added the bold:

I picked the reddest apple from the tree. 

It was the finest one that I could see. 

I saved it all except a bite or two. Just for you. 

I carried home the groceries from the store. 

I wanted to be helpful with a chore. 

I put them all away except a few. Just for you. 

Someday I'll be grown up too. 

And if I can I'll grow up just like you. 

I ate up all my lunch just like you said 

But I think there was a little too much bread. 

And so I left the crust when I was through just for you. 

Someday I'll be grown up too. 

If I can I'll grow up just like you. 

Just one more thing before I go to bed. 

And everything I have to say is said. 

There's something special that I want to do.

Here is a kiss, just for you.

"Just leave track marks in the carpet, okay?" Why would I say this to my kid when she's baking cookies? What do carpets have to do with chocolate chips?

Cookie-baking, in a teen's mind, is about baking only. What teen do you know that considers the planning, the purchase of ingredients, the cleanup, and the storage of the baked cookies afterward? None, I'm afraid.

And if they really did think about all these parts of the task ahead of time, they might decline on baking cookies. Too much work, too many things to remember, too much pressure to get it right. Too complicated for their young, still developing brains.

Here's what I've noticed. Teens harbor secret beliefs, just as we adults do. One of those beliefs, while only subconscious, influences our everyday interactions with them. It permeates cleaning their room, doing their chores, practicing their instruments, and the list goes on. You get the idea. The belief goes something like this:

"If I agree to do all that work, it will always be expected of me from this day forward. Instead, I'll conveniently forget all the parts I don't like. Then they can drag it out of me, and they'll be happy if I just clean up the spilled chocolate chips on the kitchen floor and nothing more."

Not long ago, I recalled a friend of my husband's who used to invite his buddies to his parent's summer home. His mom had a rule: "If you're going to use my summer home, just leave track marks in the carpet so it looks like you attempted to vacuum and clean up."

Remembering this, I shared the anecdote with my teen. Just a few days later, she brought up the subject (a wonder in itself that she remembered something I told her.) She said, "Mom, do you remember the story about the track marks in the carpet? Well, that's how I did my chores today."

I've never seen her so earnest about housework. She had a sparkle in her eye. It occurs to me that when I tell my kids they only need to give the appearance of trying, it takes the pressure off of perfection, and they're more willing to try. After all, adults will always do a better job, so they're already set up for substandard work. Lowering the standards may be just what they need to get motivated.

I've used this tactic in the past without realizing it. At times I have said, "Can you two please pretend you get along while we're all in the car? Can you just give the appearance that you like each other?" Thinking back, that worked pretty well. Low pressure. Track marks in the carpet.