Motivation can be the unicorn of parenthood; especially since motivating miniature versions of yourself can be much more challenging than advertised. I am not sure what I envisioned prior to fatherhood, but I somehow always knew that I wouldn't be able to do much reasoning with my children while they were still in diapers. Perhaps JK Rowling was onto something when she created the magical world of Harry Potter. I may not know how to motivate a miniature version of myself, but I do know that the key to bridging that mythical gap of communication between parents and children is a magic wand.
Growing up as the youngest to a single father born to Depression Era parents, motivation was an afterthought. "Because I said so" was typically followed by some severe form of corporal punishment. We were motivated by a fear of punishment; never love. We were motivated to do things that kept us from receiving the worst of it. Perhaps this was the norm in the 20th Century, but it didn't have to be, and certainly shouldn't be in the 21st Century and beyond.
Music has always been a major part of our household dynamic. Thanks to handy technology that is readily available, I can have my music playing throughout my home without turning up the volume to deafening levels. Beyond the joy of being engrossed in music that we love, we also get to share that passion with our children. Just as my older brother exposed me to the likes of Aerosmith, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and Pink Floyd, my wife and I get to expose our children to Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Alice in Chains, while also encouraging them to embrace the music they like beyond what we offer.
For all the planning my wife and I do, some of the most memorable moments happen completely by accident. Toy Story 3 was released when my daughter was three, and my son was one, and was an instant hit for them. What impacted them the most wasn't the great story or the brilliant animation, or the comic timing of the ensemble cast — it was The Gipsy Kings' Spanish language rendition of Randy Newman's "You've Got a Friend in Me," as well as the final dancing sequence of Buzz and Jessie during the credits.
Growing up as the youngest to a single father born to Depression Era parents, motivation was an afterthought. "Because I said so" was typically followed by some severe form of corporal punishment. We were motivated by a fear of punishment; never love. We were motivated to do things that kept us from receiving the worst of it. Perhaps this was the norm in the 20th Century, but it didn't have to be, and certainly shouldn't be in the 21st Century and beyond.
Music has always been a major part of our household dynamic. Thanks to handy technology that is readily available, I can have my music playing throughout my home without turning up the volume to deafening levels. Beyond the joy of being engrossed in music that we love, we also get to share that passion with our children. Just as my older brother exposed me to the likes of Aerosmith, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and Pink Floyd, my wife and I get to expose our children to Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Alice in Chains, while also encouraging them to embrace the music they like beyond what we offer.
For all the planning my wife and I do, some of the most memorable moments happen completely by accident. Toy Story 3 was released when my daughter was three, and my son was one, and was an instant hit for them. What impacted them the most wasn't the great story or the brilliant animation, or the comic timing of the ensemble cast — it was The Gipsy Kings' Spanish language rendition of Randy Newman's "You've Got a Friend in Me," as well as the final dancing sequence of Buzz and Jessie during the credits.
"Pick up your toys and put them back where they go. It's time to get ready for bed." It's simple and direct and doesn't work at all. My children couldn't see the payoff. Not only did they not want to go to bed, they didn't have the slightest inclination to work before being punished with a trip to bed when they were already having so much fun. That's when my wife stepped up to the plate and crushed one out of the park. She used our household love of music to create The Cleanup Game, which combined elements of musical chairs as well as other start/stop musings, being sure to incorporate a song close to their hearts. The rules were simple: put toys away as "Hay Un Amigo En Mi" plays, and freeze when the music stops.
The music of The Gipsy Kings (as well as its ties to Toy Story 3) made the work fun for them. They were laughing and dancing and cleaning up with haste that defied logic. Whenever we had guests over, their children would greet us enthusiastically, requesting that we play "The Cleanup Game" before the night was done. We had found our magic wand: music. I cannot tell anyone what their wand is, because it's probably something different than what works for us. What I can tell you is that once you discover your wand ... that's when the magic happens.
