One of my sons (who shall remain nameless, though he will likely laugh and say “Ok, so that was me” if he reads this) is notoriously bad at gauging how long tasks take. Getting him to take responsibility for getting things done can be, ahem, challenging.
When he was younger, it was easier. I simply told him when to get up, when to eat, when to get ready to leave. He generally complied – occasionally getting distracted when heading upstairs to grab a sweatshirt and forgetting we had a schedule.
If he wasn’t back in three minutes, I rolled my eyes and would call up to him to remind him of the task at hand. Often I would hear a “oh yeah” as he went to actually grab the sweatshirt and come back down.
As he got older it became a bit more complicated. He was old enough, in theory, to take on more of his own time management, but in reality, things started falling through the cracks.
He’s not one who is motivated by getting things done and checking them off the list. He does not see the point. In his mind if he has a task that should take three hours and is due in three days, there is no reason to start any earlier, than oh, say 11p on the night before it’s due.
It drives this type A mama crazy.
Because as we all know, often what happens if it’s a new to us task:
- The task actually needs more than three hours to be completed.
- It may take double or triple that do be done well
- Life happens, so when suddenly unanticipated additional tasks get added to the calendar – due at the same time, there isn’t much time to get it all done.
- It’s often not until we are well into a project or assignment that there is information or materials we need that we weren’t aware of
- Mom feels compelled not to let all of the balls drop so is nagging/lecturing/helping to make sure it’s all completed to a reasonable standard.
This last point helps no one.
As he became older, the stakes and responsibilities increased. As did his desires for more freedom, free-time for socializing. This was a bad match.
Confession time – I’d fallen into a bad habit of reminding him (multiple times) of deadlines, of nagging him to get things done and of veiled non-specific threats that never motivated him and only left me feeling stuck about following through with the threats.
It was a bad pattern.
More importantly, it took away one thing I constantly suggest as a parent and a therapist. Natural consequences. Let them learn from the natural consequences.
It was hard to do, but I have let my boys go to school without gloves on a cold morning after they’d failed to keep track of the 467 pairs I’d previously purchased. My old credit card statements suggest this is only a slight exaggeration – and if you live in a cold climate and have ever been to the elementary school’s lost and found you are nodding with the same recognition and disbelief I felt every time I went to try to recover some of the lost goods. How – HOW are these kids leaving entire heavy winter coats at school when it’s sub-twenty degrees out?
My kids had pockets, they’d survive, and either having freezing cold hands so they could play freely at recess, or having to sit out on the fun to keep their hands warm would usually work to have them keep up with their gloves for another week or two – until we’d have to repeat the process.
But now, the consequences weren’t missing out on full freedom at recess. Now the consequences were meaningful in a larger sense. Tardy marks when not getting out the door on time because of getting up at the last minute and then realizing the backpack wasn’t packed up at night -or the Chromebook wasn’t charged.
Bad grades where assignments weren’t completed on time. Or were completed but not turned in. Or simply forgotten.
Missing opportunities that were wanted because deadlines for submission had passed.
As a mom, it was very, very hard not to rescue him every time. But I had to realize, as long as I was rescuing him, he wasn’t learning how to manage his own time. To find the tools that worked for him. To learn to ask for help early enough that he could receive it. To figure out how to get himself organized.
Part of what is hard is so much of this is also so much of what makes his personality so fun. He’s an easygoing person, and he’s able to roll with the punches, rarely getting upset when things don’t go exactly as planned. He’s a nice balance to a household of more type-A leaning people, and he rarely experiences anxiety. If I have to change something at the last minute, he is the first to say “ok” and just happily adjust.
So there is part of me that can step away and appreciate – and at times envy – his lack of internal pressure to check things off of an imaginary or real to-do list. I appreciate that he has his own internal clock and is unbothered by external pressure. Not in a selfish way. He is an incredibly kind and thoughtful person, and if he realizes he is somehow causing someone (other than his immediate family members that is) stress because he is running late, he feels bad. And he will try to do better and not repeat that behavior for them again.
I know that when I step in and rescue him from failure, I’m not allowing him to develop the skills necessary to manage his own life. Instead I am sending him a message that he is not capable of handling difficult situations that arise when he is late with things on his own. I am robbing him of developing time-management and organizational skills. It keeps him from learning to be resilient when faced with adversity.
This is not the parenting I want to do.
So this morning I tried very hard to bite my tongue as he laid in bed putting off getting up to shower as long as he could (tired from working on a paper he’d put off well into the night) knowing he was likely going to be late for his bass lesson. He did get up eventually, and he was only five minutes late for his start time, and I avoided a power struggle about something that he is actually motivated to do.
I also took a deep breath and read over the draft of his paper. The one he has known about for the last five weeks. Knowing he’d given forth a less than stellar effort on the previous one because he waited until the night before it was due to write it. The paper that he forgot to turn the outline in for, and when he did and finally received it back, realized it still needed work – and ultimately did not get the grade he wanted.. The one he should have started two weeks ago – and he only started three days ago.
I will admit, I was holding my breath. I’d refused to rescue him even though from my perspective I was concerned that he was, once again, setting himself up for failure – or at least mediocrity. I did have a conversation with him about what happened before and offered limited assistance if he wanted it. He did. We worked on his outline and I could see his confidence grow.
Bit my tongue as much as I wanted to say “if you ask – with time for people to respond – we will help.”
I did let him know if he wanted me to look at the final draft he had to get it to me within a 48 hour window before it was due. So I was relieved when he sent it to me (ok, minus the conclusion which he will “get to” but ok, it’s a long paper so I’ll take it).
It’s good. It’s really good. One of those “oh, wow, I didn’t realize you could write this well” moments. I was proud of him.
Done in his own way, in his own time.
He said the more thorough outline helped. Which had required starting sooner, building in time for feedback. He learned from the natural consequence of a less than stellar grade last time. I didn’t rescue him with his first paper even though I found it painful not to step in and set deadlines as I saw the due date approach. And now he has produced a paper that he feels great about and will be proud to turn in. He was empowered to make better choices, to find a way to make things work for him and to know he can manage his responsibilities on his own.
And that is the kind of parenting I want to do.
