The Writing’s on the Wall
Literally. And on the furniture, and the toys, and the bedspread. It started around the time my daughter, my second child and younger than my son by about 19 months, was able to both walk and grip a writing instrument. At first it was limited to crayons and washable markers. It became an increasing problem when she could reach the black Sharpie in the “off-limits drawer.” My son, though prone to all sorts of misbehavior, inexplicably refrained from household graffiti.
“Lily!” I’d shout, “No writing on the walls! Write on paper. Only on paper. Here, sweetie, here’s some paper.”
“No, Mommy, no! It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!” she’d wail, sobbing, with such intensity and conviction that I would almost believe her. I’d look accusingly at my son. “It wasn’t me, Mom.” My son would say somberly, standing back a ways and shaking his head. Both kids were credible, neither forth-coming. My gut continued to tell me it was the angelic-looking one in pigtails and big, tear-stained cheeks. I’d proceed to lecture about not breaking rules, respecting our home, using markers, stickers and stamps only on paper, blah blah blah. They would nod, in unison, promising it would never happen again, since neither of them had been responsible in the first place. Sometimes I would get angry enough to take away the markers for a day, or a week. This cycle went on for three years.
What would the clever behaviorist mom have done? I have no idea, or else I would have done it.
My approach in all matters of denied misbehavior eventually became to promise they would not get in trouble if they confessed, and then to praise the guilty party profusely for (finally!) confessing, showing by rewarding this pro-social behavior the importance of taking responsibility. I would then point out, by asking via “guided discovery,” that they did not get in trouble, and proceed in a “collaborative” manner to come up with a suitable consequence by asking them, given what they did, what they think needed to be done to correct the wrong? This allowed them to take ownership of both their behavior and the consequence. This had, in the beginning, only resulted in my son confessing.
One day I got home from work to find black marker on a newly painted wall. (Insert repetitive cycle here.) I cleaned the wall, muttering and disgruntled, and we all went up for bedtime. At the top of the stairs: 3 white bannisters beautifully tattooed in an array of bright colors.
“You guys! What is the rule about writing on stuff?”
“It wasn’t me!” they proclaimed in unison.
“Well, clearly it was one of you,” I insisted. A period of tense silence, and then,
“Well, Mom, clearly it was me,” my daughter stated, very matter of fact. Yes! I knew it! My brain shouted in triumph, followed by, Finally, she takes responsibility! And no tears! (The lack of guilt was disturbing, but I ignored it.)
Is it possible that my rewarding of confession behavior actually worked? Or was this just a fluke one-time occurrence?
I’ll find out next time the writing’s on the wall…
