Barns are more fun to clean than bathrooms

Who wouldn't rather clean a barn than a bathroom? I wanted Emily to have responsibility for her own bathroom. From the age of 4 she was wiping surfaces clean with a paper towel and a spray bottle of diluted white vinegar. I expected her to hang her towel over a free-standing towel rack each day and to drape the bathmat over the edge of the tub. Each year a dollar was added to her allowance and another family chore - now that she was bigger. When I referred to her bathroom as a barn and we turned the edge of the tub into a horse named Princess and the towel rack into a mule named April, she suddenly remembered to drape her "horse blankets" on the "horses" more often. And when she didn't, it didn't sound as mean when I said, "April and Princess are cold" than when I used to say, "You forgot to hang up your towel and bath mat again!"

Secret Language to Stop Bad Behavior

Emily and I have a lot of code words or tunes we've used over the years as ways to get our points across without hurting each others' feelings. Many of them were only appropriate for a toddler or young child, but some we still do to this day.

• Somehow it seems less rude to be hurried by the Bug's Bunny chase song than to be told, "Hurry up!"
• When one of us is doing something annoying, we ask, "When's Memorial Day?" This is our code for "Stop it!" 
• After reading the book, The Little Dog Who Would Not Wag His Tail, "Wag your tail!" whispered behind Emily's neck was my reminder to her to be more friendly. 
• I'd whistle or hum a bit of Rosemary Clooney's song, Straighten up and Fly Right, as I tidied the house around Emily and her friends. This was my code to Emily that she was being being bossy or mean. Her friends didn't notice what I was doing at all, but Emily would say, "Thanks Mom - I got it." It gave her that immediate feedback little kids need to correct bad behavior, without embarrassing her in front of her friends. 
• Zabbazee is the phrase our family yells when someone says something from some far-off place and imagines that you heard them. "Zabbazee" yelled back let's them know in a nice way, "Get over here and talk to me face to face."
• My dad had a singsongy 2 note whistle that my sister and I knew as a warning call. If we didn't stop the shenanigans, there'd be trouble.

1-2-3 I-Love You

If your kids are little, I'd recommend you start a 3-squeeze secret code with them making sure they know it means "I-love-you." My dad used to squeeze our hands 3 times saying one word of the phrase with each squeeze. It was great when we were little, but when it came in really handy was once we were teenagers. At that age, you don't always want to hear your parents say, "I love you." But when my dad would knock on my knee 3 times while we were sitting at a football game or when he'd reach over at the kitchen table and jab me 3 times with his fork, it seemed like just the perfect thing to do. When my husband and I started dating, I taught him the 1-2-3 squeeze. The most wonderful time he 1-2-3ed me was when we had sold our first home and were buying the next all in the same day and our buyer fell through killing both deals. As I followed my husband home in my car after our disappointing evening at the bank, my husband's brake lights lit up in front of me on the highway as he touched them 1-2-3 times. Sometimes an "I-love-you" touch is still just the perfect thing.

Let's Do Christmas

"What shall we do today, Emily?"
My 3-year-old answered back, "Let's do Christmas!"

It was nowhere near December 25. I don't know where she got the idea, but I thought it was a good one. Christmas is so special it should be celebrated at least twice a year anyway. I called my husband at work and told him to invite his boss's family over for Christmas dinner tonight; Emily and I were going to spend the day doing Christmas.

Emily and I pulled out the holiday decorations, sang along with the Little Drummer Boy's "A Rum-pa-pum-pum" and had a great time making Christmas cookies, wrapping a few presents and preparing a Christmas dinner that we all enjoyed. "God Bless us Every One!"

Learn to read using a microphone or southern accent

Everything is more fun when you use a microphone. I have a karaoke machine I've never used for karaoke. I tutor kids in the neighborhood with reading and they have so much more fun reading out loud when they can do it with echo and special effects. We also sometimes take turns reading a page using our best British or Southern accents.

Notes from the Past

Even though Emily's in college, I still enjoy the misspelled-early chicken-scratch handwriting I saved and taped in various spots around the house. We have a clothes-shoot in the laundry room where years ago I placed an "I luve yoo Mommy" message on the inside of the little metal door. Nothing takes the edge off the heinous task of doing laundry than seeing that memory smiling back at me. I draw encouragement when I'm about to make cookies when I see Mom's confident loops and even lines on the recipe card. And when I face possible electrocution before jump starting my car battery, I can easily consult the correct page in the vehicle's manual with the decades-old-homemade-birthday card my dad made that I've left in there as a bookmark. I'm comforted by my Dad characteristic last line, "I loved you first" written in his nearly illegible cursive handwriting.

Sleeping in the Closet

When our daughter Emily was little, she asked if she could sleep in her closet. My first impulse was to say NO, but I stopped myself and asked, "Why not?" I cut a foam pad to lay in the bottom. I scooted everything down to the other end and made a place for her little legs down that blind alley where nothing can be stored conveniently anyway. I called the fire department because after 2 months of this my dad said he was nervous about what would happen if there were a fire. The fireman on the phone said that no fireman worth his salt would ever leave a room without looking in the closet and that sleeping on the floor actually gave her protection and extra minutes from smoke inhalation. I insisted that during night-time hours the sliding door needed to remain open and she had no problem with that. Emily lived in her cozy little closet for about 6 months before making the move back to her bed.