Marble jar
We've never been parents who set up elaborate household systems for motivating or organizing our children. Although I've been impressed by others' chore charts and anger management wheels, we've always been too lazy, or too rushed, or insufficiently confident that they would work to implement such systems ourselves. We did have a sticker chart for Edith when she weaned, but I suspect that the weaning happened because she was ready more so than in response to the daily sticker, since we found ourselves having to remind her about it.
Therefore I've been astonished and gratified that my off-hand suggestion to Alice the other day, that we have a marble jar, is working wonders around our house. She was begging for canvas on which to paint, like her sister, who received canvases as a special Christmas present. Alice has been rather greedy for stuff lately, and I put her off by suggesting that she could earn canvas as a special reward for good behavior, which we could track with a marble jar system. She was amenable to the idea.
So I found a jar, and I explained that she will earn marbles at my discretion for behaviors we've been emphasizing. High on the list are putting her shoes on the shoe rack, putting away her clothes at day's end, repeating a request once rather than incessantly until it is fulfilled, and saying, "Please would you...?" rather than "I want...!" She also earns marbles for trying new foods and for proceeding rapidly through transitions, like getting her shoes on, getting out the door and onto the elevator, and climbing into her carseat, all of which traditionally have been stall-out moments. Conversely, she can lose marbles for dawdling, tantruming, fighting with her sister, or refusing to wear shoes because hers don't look exactly like Mommy's.
The marble jar is still far from full after two weeks, but its very existence has prompted a sea change. The linguistic switch to "Please would you...?" has been almost instantaneous, and when she forgets, she usually self-corrects. She almost always puts her shoes away when she comes in the door. She has tried a couple of new food items, including an unfamiliar dish prepared by a stranger who was standing over her urging her eat, which once would have been a recipe for a tantrum. Transitions still seem to take an awfully long time, but the fear of losing marbles leads to immediate, vociferous apologies when she's mean to her sister.
As an experiment, we've tried roping Edith into the marble system, in order to encourage her to put away her shoes and clothes and sample new foods as well. Edith was open to the idea, and we argued to Alice that this should help her fill the jar faster. We figured it would also encourage yet further sisterly cooperation.
But while four may be the sweet spot for marble jars, eight may be beyond them. After Edith left her sneakers lying in the middle of the floor two days in a row and was called out on it, she responded, "Oh, whoops! I'm sorry, Mom. Please take away a marble." Then she went back to her book, while Alice's eyes got big, and she looked at me as though tragedy had struck.
This may be why I was slow to implement reward systems in the past. You have to hit your audience at just the right moment with just the right incentive. We'll work the marble jar magic hard while we can.


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