Dinnertime Love Language {my little experiment}

(Repost from October 9, 2012)

a brilliant plan

I guess you could say that my love language is,

words of affirmation.

Actually...it's not so much that I speak that language, but it's definitely

the language that fuels me.

Particularly at dinnertime.

Because I need to be inflated with compliments, even if they're fake,

over the dinners I slave over.

Slave over!

But truth is,

these people in my house just gobble up the food like ravenous wolves,

take their plates to the dishwasher, and walk away,

nary a compliment.

Nary a compliment!

So last night as I was making

Chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes & gravy, and green beans,

I devised a plan.

Bwahahahaha.

It was a mighty plan.

I planted a one-dollar bill in my right pocket,

and a five in my left.

The first person to compliment me on my dinner,

would be quickly rewarded with cash.

(Yes, I've resorted to this.)

(We'll deal with my needy issues later.)

And we had a winner!

Lucy quickly said how yummy dinner was, right out of the gate.

Score!

Cha-ching!!

I handed my favorite-child-of-the-moment a shiny new dollar,

thanking her for her kind words.

Jaws dropped around the table.

Eyes were wide.

A cloud of disbelief hovered thickly.

Me,

"Well, now...it seems that it pays to tell Mommy that dinner is good, now doesn't it?"

And even more shock ensued when I pulled out the five in my left pocket

and told them that I was planning to give that one if a

 big-kid happened to be the first to step up to rave over my meal.

But, it was Lucy who was the winner.

And I do think a valuable lesson was learned with all.

Positively brilliant!

(But I'm a little worried about where to go from here.)

The End.

Today's UPDATE:  I can't say for sure that this plan did or did not make an iota of difference in my kids gushing over my dinners (not that my dinners are gush-worthy, but still...they owe me that much, I'd say)..  They do compliment me from time to time, lucky for them.  But I still think the shock value of this little experiment was worth every last dime.  And perhaps I'll do it again soon!   Just for fun.

lucy's dancing career [from beginning to end]

As requested by my sweet friend Joanne,

here is a repost of Lucy's dance class catastrophe,

from about four years ago.

Grab a cup of coffee and enjoy.

Class #1

Yesterday was Lucy's debut on the dance floor. We had been talking about this for a while trying to prepare her, but in the back of my mind I knew trouble was brewing. The girl knows what she likes and what she DOESN'T. It all started with putting on her outfit...as you recall, we bought her a cute little ballerina costume for Christmas, which she loved (then). When I presented it to her yesterday you would have thought that I was trying to make her wear the coffee table. The more she kicked and screamed, the more determined I was that she WOULD wear this and she WOULD dance and she WOULD have fun. I'm sure I did wonders for our continuing attachment.


We got to the studio and she decided that we were, in fact, crazy. Why would we take her to a place to dance when she does it all the time in the comfort of home. And all the little blond girls didn't help. Then the teacher proceeded to tell me that it was just fine to leave her & just let her cry...that she would be ok, she was sure. I gave her a Mama Bear look and gave her 15 second lecture on attachment. There was no way I would be leaving her alone. O...K....then. From there it was touch and go as Lucy would do just the opposite as the teacher said much of the time. At one point she was just sitting, ignoring the instructions to make a sun with her arms, flipping her hair then announced that she wanted pigtails. 


The teacher was patient (of course she was getting paid either way), but at the end gave us a puzzled look & gently said that whatever we wanted to do was fine (meaning: now's your chance to bail out...please). No, no, we'll be back! Stay tuned...

**Just so you know, once we got home she refused to take off her outfit. :/

Class #3...or 4

Now we move on to what is becoming my Monday morning blues...Lucy's dance class. After having been sick all weekend, I wasn't even sure that we would make it. But as I casually mentioned it to her over her morning noodles she was very excited at the thought. I quickly decided that since her nose wasn't running and her hacking cough could perhaps be suspended for the 45 minutes of prancing about, we would hurry up and get ready to go.

We arrived in time to let her get used to the idea of being there again. And to my surprise and relief, she readily sat down with the others and I assured her that I wasn't leaving but would stand, over there. That seemed fine and dandy with Miss Ballerina.

But once again I found myself begging her to follow along with her friends and do what they are doing (that will no doubt come back to haunt me at around 16). But no, my stubborn girl is her own woman and felt no need to cave to peer pressure (let's remember that attitude). So as you can see from the pictures, this amazing Asian will plie' and act like a kangaroo if and when she wants to. I'm questioning whether my money is being well spent here.

Let's unpack this frame by frame:


Here we see Lucy mixing in quite nicely with the other dancers


I quickly realize that the previous picture was Lucy giving me false hope...

I know what you are thinking....but please don't feel sorry for her, she brought this on herself

Look closely...that's right, Miss Lucy is just sitting on the mat

And here we see Lucy refusing to pretend to be a bear

And apparently she's too good to be a leapfrog as well

Lucy, "You want me to sit? I think I'll stand."

Lucy's side of the parachute never did get any higher than what you see here

Lucy, "And why are these girl doing this?"

Lucy, "Oh, stickers for all of us? YIPPEE! I'll have two please!"

"Why can't Brenden be in my dance class??"