Kids, commitments, and consequences
Helping our children take responsibility for the choices they make
I was asked to take on three interns this summer, for 3 months. It felt like a risk but I was happy to give it a go.
A client of mine had asked if I could help them, as part of a training programme we run for some of their Masters students. I was hopeful these 3 young men would be great and produce some useful output whilst getting some solid experience for when they finished their Masters programmes.
There was clearly a risk that they may not be great. That it would be a time sink for me and my team, and still not yield much of use at the end. To try to mitigate the risk of not-greatness I did all the best-practice consulting things to set up their projects for success. A nice clear question for them to answer. Access to the resources they needed. Basic project management disciplines. Open offer of support.
And, an open discussion about the outcomes they were aiming for over the course of the internship. While I was defining the question they would work on, it was important that they define how deep or broad they were able to go in the time they had.
I asked them to commit to achieving the outcomes they felt able to commit to. It was important to have them opt-in to those commitments; that they make them consciously. That agreement would set the foundation for our interactions through the summer.
I wasn’t too worried about managing 3 early-20s interns. It’s really an easier version of managing 4 under 10s at home.
I don’t know how you make it work with four kids!
We get this all the time. All. The. Time.
People with 1 or 2 children speechless that we somehow survive with 4 children.
What’s the alternative? Not surviving?
With our twins on the way 6 years ago we realised early on that we had two options:
Chaos
Control
The chaos route sounds easier in the moment. Just let them be wild, free, do what they want. Allow the house to descend into whatever mess it ends up in.
I don’t believe that unboundaried life would serve them in the long run though. Not setting boundaries actually says to a kid that you don’t care enough to bother holding the line with them. A kid thinking their parent doesn’t care isn’t starting life in a great place. We cared, and for us that meant setting boundaries.
So we chose control. Or, more accurately, we chose clarity of responsibilities and natural consequences. We don’t crack the whip. We don’t use a naughty step. The rules we set aren’t arbitrary or rooted in a desire for power.
We try (not always successfully…) to be clear about what we’re asking, get them to commit to doing it, and experience natural consequences when they don’t.
Our best example of that is our morning routine.
Checklists and choice
Last year we were getting stressed out with our mornings. We’d both start feeling resentment about doing more than our fair share, or guilt about wanting to exercise or work. We found ourselves nagging the kids constantly.
Some mornings, we didn’t even find time to make a cup of tea.
And Jo without tea is… less fun than Jo with tea.
We chose to do two big things to fix that morning stress.
Firstly, we sat down and defined two ‘adult’ roles in the morning. One of those is focused on sorting the kids breakfast, emptying the dishwasher, and walking the dog. The other on sorting laundry, getting the kids ready, and doing the school run. Clear responsibilities. Divide and conquer on the stuff that has to get done. Take the thinking out of the routine.
We don’t always do them the same way round, we just agree each evening who is doing which role the next day. These defined roles also give us both time to exercise, or write, or cold dip, or meditate, or whatever else we want to use our personal time for.
The second big thing was to give the kids checklists to manage their responsibilities, from getting dressed to feeding their guinea pigs to tidying their rooms.
This was a game changer. Suddenly they had choice about what they do next as they were getting ready. They enjoyed the game of checking things off. They competed with each other to be ready first. They helped each other out.
These days, the younger two routinely act as music stands for the older two when it was time to practice Cello or Clarinet.
We bought a little timer so the kids could know when they needed to be ready for school and exactly how much time they had left. The deal - which they all agreed to in a family meeting - was that they would take responsibility for getting their jobs done and being ready on time.
More about our family meetings here:
It worked. Suddenly, our mornings were stress free! For a few days…
We’d nailed the clarity of responsibilities. But we also needed natural consequences.
Commitment is nothing without consequence
Once the initial rush of excitement had faded, we came to the inevitable. One day, two of the kids weren’t ready on time. Not even close.
We’d agreed in advance what would happen. The natural consequence of not being ready to leave on time is you’re late. The bus was leaving, and they weren’t ready to board.
In this case, the “bus” was Jo walking to school with the other two. She could have waited. She could have stepped into the Rescuer role on the Drama Triangle as the two tardy kids played the Victim with a litany of creative reasons why it wasn’t their fault they were late. She could have, but that wouldn’t help them learn. We both calmly stayed out of the drama and stuck to our guns.
She left with the two that were ready, and I stayed home with the others. Who very sad about the situation. That was a fun half hour.
Jo got back and then did the walk again with our disorganised pair, dropping them in half an hour late. They had to explain to their teachers why they were late - taking ownership of their choice to not get ready on time.
That was nearly a year ago. They’ve been ready on time every day since then.
The mysterious case of the disappearing interns
I wasn’t too worried about managing my 3 early-20s interns. After all, if I can set clear expectations and consequences for my young kids these motivated Masters students would be a walk in the park.
How wrong was I?!
In our initial kick-off calls I asked them to think through the outputs they were happy to commit to producing. I gave them 48 hours to make those commitments, and send over a simple workplan for the summer.
Then… crickets. I chased. Still nothing.
Eventually a few excuses. A family emergency. An argument with my spouse. A missing laptop.
This cycle repeated twice more. No commitments, no accountability, no integrity.
The natural consequence? All 3 internships lasted less than two weeks.
I don’t know what upbringing these three young men had. I do know they didn’t show up for these internships, and that commitment and consequence wasn’t part of how they behaved with me.
One of the great challenges of parenting is how long it takes before you know if you’re doing the right thing. My hope for my kids is that - whatever they choose to do in life - they will seize opportunities, make clear commitments, and do their best to stick to them.
Invictus
By William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Despite all this, I wonder if the real game changer was you buying me that massive mug so I'm always full of tea? 😘
Great post, Deri - thank you! That's seriously disappointing about your interns.