You Break It,You Pay For It

Nate and Isabella were having a lot of fun wrestling yesterday. I love how they love each other. They are such great friends. But last night their “fun” was getting a little close to the bookshelf and floor lamp. I stopped them twice to remind them to be careful and aware of where they were.

“We’re being careful, Mom!” they sang.

Moments later, there was a crash. Isabella had plunged into the floor lamp and grabbed onto the lampshade to try to catch herself. Instead, her weight and momentum just ripped the lampshade off its stand leaving a small piece dangling from the wire frame and exposing the brightly burning bulb.

My two kids froze. They stared at me waiting to hear what I was going to say. They knew they were in trouble.

Yelling at them would not fix my broken lampshade. Neither would sending them both to time out or taking away desert. We now needed a new lampshade, and my kids are always in need of opportunities to learn logical consequences.

“Bummer, you guys,” I said. “You’re both going to have to buy a new lampshade for that lamp.” They both looked at me dumbfounded. I don’t think they expected that. I explained to them that the shade would cost anywhere between $15 and $20 which meant that they would each need to come up with about $10.

Isabella broke into a wail. “I don’t haaaaaavvvvveeee $10!” The tears flowed along with, “Mom, it was just an accident! It was not on purpose!”

I let them know that I knew it was an accident. I reminded them that I was worried an accident might happen which is why I cautioned them to watch what they were doing. They weren’t in trouble. But we did need our lampshade back.

I reminded them of the time I was in a car accident. Though it was an accident, it was also my fault because I wasn’t watching what I was doing. I had to pay to get my car fixed and the other person’s car fixed. Even if it’s an accident, we still need to fix our mistakes.
“But I have no money!” Isabella continued.

I gave them some ideas. They could use the money they had in their coin banks. They could do some chores that Daddy and I would pay them for. Or they could sell some of their toys (I would help them post them on Craig’s List).

True to Nate’s character, he accepted his consequences and immediately trotted upstairs to find toys to sell.

Isabella stayed to argue some more.

“Isabella, look at me,” I said. “I know you’re disappointed. I know you wish it hadn’t happened. But look at my face. I am not going to change my mind. You will need to figure out how to pay for the lampshade by this weekend.”

It was over. Isabella stopped arguing.

Nate is almost five and Isabella is only seven, so I will help them along the way in getting their money. If they choose chores, I will pay them generously for the things I ask them to do. If they sell toys, I will help them gather toys that will get them at least $10. I will help them count the coins in their coin jar. But I won’t let them off the hook.

I am thankful that they get opportunities to learn lessons of responsibility like this. And this logical consequence will have a bigger impact on their future behavior than anything else I could have done.

Plus, I get a new lamp shade.