The Hanging Carrot

Packing up, leaving the house in a cluttered disarray of wrapping paper and toy pieces, and hurrying off to the airport at 8 a.m. just before the holidays, I felt nothing but dread as I looked ahead to our day of travel.

First a two-hour car ride to Orlando where we would drop the car off and wait for a shuttle to the airport.  Once there, we would have to check the bags in, go through security, and wait around to board the plane while trying to keep two toddlers amused and calm.  The plane ride itself, while a direct flight, was to be three hours.  Then picking up our bags on the other side, searching for our ride, and driving another 45 minutes to Nana's house.  What could go right?  Probably nothing.

I braced myself for crying, screaming, wriggling embarrassment.  Surely the twins would not be able to stomach this epic journey.  My memories of the flight down to Florida in May were still fresh in my mind.  Adjusting, trying to keep the babies calm while not completely annoying those around us.  Babies in captivity.  It was harrowing to say the least.  In May, we were that family on the plane.  That family.  But what could we do?  How do you keep a kid entertained for hours on end when they aren't even allowed to move around?  There are only so many entrancingly interesting things you can pack in a carry on.

This trip, though, we had a promise on which we could deliver.  We were going to see Nana.

I had no idea how much weight that idea would carry.  Whenever we had a restless moment, whenever it looked like the twins were going to lose their patience (or their minds), we gently reminded them that we were going through all this to get to Nana.

With that, I saw them set their little jaws in determination and settle into the trip.  They were going to see Nana.  They didn't want to mess this up.

And they didn't.  For seven consecutive hours, the babies, in a fit of grim determination, pressed on without tantrum or complaint.  They were going to see Nana.  Mommy said so.  No matter how long it took, or what they had to go through, they knew, at the end of the day, they were going to see Nana.

It is essentially the power of bribery taken to a whole new level.  And honestly, I'm lucky they believed me, given all the empty promises I accidentally make to them.  You know, like, "We'll go outside after you eat lunch," when what I mean is we're taking a nap after we eat lunch and then if it's still light out, we'll go outside.  The more truthful I can be, the more promises like seeing Nana will work for me.

I have never been so proud of my little girls, truly.

If Then What

A calm has been ushered into this house since Halloween passed last week.  A calm strong enough to overcome the wacky sugar highs my children can get off of one piece of fun-sized candy.  A calm so soothing, I feel as if the past year of non-sensical toddler tyranny has been leading up to this reward and has been worth it.

It is the calm of bribery.

At 27 months, my children are finally able to understand a core concept of life: If you do this thing, then you can have that thing.

This takes on many variations throughout the day, and my children are patient enough with me that I can put them off several times before having to come up with the goods, which keeps actual candy consumption to a minimum. 

So that our morning often sounds like this:

"Pop."

"No, no pops until after breakfast.  You have to eat breakfast first.  Then we're going for a walk.  So, you can have a pop after your walk."

There is no tantrum, no frenzy of tears, no acting out.  There is only a quiet acceptance that lollipops will eventually be had.

"Choca mook."

"No, no chocolate milk until after dinner.  You know that.  You have to eat your dinner first."

How many meals these days are eaten solely on the promise that treats are coming?  I used to dread meals.  I didn't even want to feed my kids, such was the ordeal.  But with the simple addition of bribery, mealtime went from a time of cajoling, begging, threatening my kids to take a bite, to a quiet time of happiness as the babies think of their treats to come, and I look at their full bellies with approval.

Is bribery the best way to raise your kids?  Absolutely not.  Is it the best way to get a two year old to put her toys away quietly?  In my experience, yes.  Bribery is just another link on the chain of baby evolution.  I look on it as a celebration of their development rather than a weakness in my parenting style.  As they understand more and more of the world around them, the bribery will become less obvious.  It will look more like simple understanding of cause and effect.  After all, don't we all do things based on the hope that something better is coming along?  It's a pity we can no longer be satisfied with a mini Snickers bar.

So, parents who have children not quite at this age, be comforted.  The age of bribery and understanding is coming, and it is beautiful here.

Only one storm cloud lingers in the distance, and that's the question: what happens when we run out of Halloween candy?