I’ve always taken pride in being a forward-thinking parent.
When one of my children expressed a preference for calling me by my first name, I responded with a breezy, ‘Sure, why not?’ I involved both kids in family decisions from an early age and engaged in frank discussions with them about topics that many still approach with caution. However, when it came to keeping the house orderly, I’d undergo an unabashed Jekyll and Hyde transformation and turn into a raging sergeant.
“Red zone!” I’d scream full throttle at 7:30 a.m. “Blue! Yellow!” I’d continue, anticipating the sound of small feet hurrying to comply.
They always did. Instantly. Without any pushback or dialogue, something commonplace in any other circumstance.
Despite my initial efforts to foster a sense of shared responsibility for our home’s cleanliness — peppering our conversations with inclusive phrases like, “We all love our home, so let’s keep it nice together” — I eventually resorted to screaming rainbow hues at the top of my lungs.
In my defense, it was not random hollering. It was a disciplined, well-organized affair. I divided the house into color-coded sections — blue for the living room, red for the dining area and so forth, transforming this chore into an engaging game.
There were no tangible rewards, only the satisfaction of outpacing a sibling. Sure, there are plenty of parenting manuals discussing the downsides of fostering competition among children, but given my kids’ energy level and our cozy living space, this strategy proved to be quite effective. With this system, my house would go from complete disarray to a state of perfection that would impress even Martha Stewart (you’d be surprised at the decorative flair a 7-year-old can bring to arranging sofa pillows).
This cleaning strategy lasted right up until they were teens, when early morning color codes were inevitably met with eye rolls and sighs. Nevertheless, it created a window of time during which toys were gathered, surfaces were cleaned and backpacks were stored with the efficiency of a well-drilled squad, affording me a rare moment of order to savor before the chaos of the day ensued.
Happy Reading,
Alona Abbady Martinez
alona@bocaratonobserver.com