One of my parenting principles is not requiring my child(ren) to help. I believe that by teaching compassion they will WANT to help out of the goodness of their heart and not from a feeling of obligation. As such, Nicholas doesn't have chores and he is not required to do anything that is for maintaining of a home. What he is required to do are things that are done for sanitary or safety purposes, because that is something else I also have to teach. So he throws his trash in the trash can and he puts his dirty clothes in the hamper and picks up his toys (because we can trip and fall over them).
I do ask him for help on what I call "human limit" basis. This means that I have reached my human limit in being able to do something and therefore require help. Example, my arms are full of groceries and my keys fall. I ask if he can help me by picking up the keys. It is humanly impossible for me to do it without either putting things down or hurting myself. Another example: holding the retractable door open at the front of the complex as I try to come inside either pushing an overflowing stroller with groceries or my arms full of stuff. I physically cannot open the door or get through without it being held open. But if I can do it myself, even if it would be easier or faster with his help, I do it myself.
I know this sounds like spoiling to some but it really has worked out nicely. He will often ask how he can help when he sees me doing stuff. He often holds the retractable door open for me even if I am not carrying anything. If I drop something he will usually run over to pick it up without me saying anything. And I have never asked him to help me to have him say no or do it unwillingly.
Sometimes these things blend. About three years ago I taught him how to unlock and open our apartment door because sometimes my hands are too full to be able to do it. So sometimes I ask him to go up ahead of me and open the door. Sometimes he asks for the keys because he wants to open the door. Sometimes he asks for the keys before I ask him to open the door when it is obvious I will not be able to open the door myself.
A couple of weeks ago we went to the market and when we returned I started my trips: we live on the second floor and I have to make several trips because it is physically impossible for me to carry everything and the stroller up in one trip. This is one of those instances where I ask him to open the door in advance. I have a very bad knee and going up and down the stairs really hurts so having him open the door saves me a trip. On this day I was gathering bags from the stroller at the bottom of the stairs and he was standing at the top, looking at me, after opening the door. He starts coming down the stairs, which confuses me, and then he asks if he could help with a bag. Luckily I did have a bag he could cary, I had put a loaf of bread and some bagels in a separate bag so that they would not get smashed. I handed him the bag and he took it inside.
Yeah, I was proud.
Last night we went to the market. We've gone at least two or three times since the time he took in the bread and he did not ask if he could help and I've thought nothing of it. Last night I bring in the first batch of stuff and stopped for a moment. I was tired and my knee was really bothering me. The sudden cold makes it hurt more than usual. As I was catching my breathe before going back down I hear him in the hallway sounding as if he is sort of struggling and realise he is bringing something up the stairs. I look at what I brought up frantically, wanting confirmation of what I brought up, especially the eggs. I see the eggs and breathe a sigh of relief. Then notice I brought almost everything up in one trip, the only things left were two boxes of 12 cans of soda*.
Panic again.
I go out there and see the him and the box intact so I take another sigh of relief and thank him for being such a great helper. There are hugs and high-fives and discrete visual inspections of the box to make sure nothing bursted.
And honestly, I feel proud. In a time when everyone's parenting choices are criticised and just about anything you do can be grounds for a visit from CPS, this felt like a huge victory. My child, who is autistic, is mostly polite and well behaved. And without the need to bully and coerce him into helping out he is learning to help without the need of being asked. He is learning that helping others is right thing to do, the humane thing to do. And he is learning that you don't need to be rewarded for every good deed, that you do the good deed because it is the right thing to do.
*Yes I drink soda, caffeine is a strong drug and it's cheaper than Starbucks. Yes, he drinks it too. No, he does not drink it on a daily or even regular basis, he usually drinks about two ounces of mine maybe once a week. His drink of choice is water. No, his teeth are not all rotten and fallen out. No, he does not have perfect teeth either, sometimes genetics affect teeth. Yes, I know soda is a horrible substance. I'm human, full of imperfections. I'm addicted to this stuff. At least it's not drugs or alcohol or smoking that I'm addicted to.
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