Discipline for a Style Diva

I was chanting the mom mantra for too long. 
CLEAN YOUR ROOM...
CLEAN YOUR ROOM...

My eldest daughter, who is six, didn't seem to have any sense of urgency while the room she shares with her three year old sister got increasingly full of dirty clothes, garbage and haphazardly strewn toys. To say my eldest is a style diva is putting it mildly. There are multiple costume changes every day, which contributes to the mess. The place was starting to look like certifiable hoarders lived there.  I was waiting for a camera crew from Clean House to knock on my door at any moment. 

I have to admit that sometimes I feel overwhelmed with single mom-ness. The list is unending and unyielding. Clean the house, clean my kids, play with kids, make sure that educational needs are met, feed kids healthy food, feed animals (we have 6...two dogs, two cats and two rabbits), work and stay current with news for work and somehow take care of myself and exercise.  
Lather, rinse, repeat on a daily basis.

In the past, when things get to the boiling point, I have yelled. Rather Loudly. And that has seemed to snap my kids to attention and action. But I don't like the process and neither does my oldest daughter. She told me so one day.

"Mommy, it hurts my feelings when you yell. Could you just tell me nicely what you want me to do?"
"I do, dear", I reply," but you don't respond until I yell." 
"Try." she requested. 
"Alright." I agreed. 

So I changed my tactics. 
I had asked my six year old nicely to clean up her room for at least five days. Each day she went to her room but no change to the mess. On that fifth evening I asked, she agreed and went up to her room. When I checked in on her, the room looked just as bad and she was happily sitting on the floor playing with one of the cats. 

In my calmest tone I said, "You will be wearing an outfit of my choosing tomorrow." 
Not understanding the ramifications, my daughter blithely replied," Okay, Mommy.", and continued to dress the cat. 

In the morning, I came in the girls' room to pick her outfit. 
Calmly I said, "My darling, you will be wearing this outfit all day, every day until your room is clean. I'm willing to wash this outfit every day for a month or two or a year. As long as it takes."

She got quiet. 
And then I made my selection. 
First you have to understand my eldest. She has been into personal style since the age of two. She is a whiz with accessories and her outfits are always edgy and cool. She takes great pride in the outfits she puts together FOR KINDERGARTEN. 

So when I pulled out a pair of jean shorts that came to her knees and ended in a flurry of ruffles with orange pipping, first she stood still and then it dawned on her. She started to jump and down and convulse all at once, "Don't make me scream! Don't make me scream!", was all she could say. These shorts were a direct affront to all things even mildly fashionable.  
I then coupled the shorts with her school t-shirt, which by her standards is pretty bland. 

I calmly handed the clothes to her and said, "This is your outfit, my love, until this room is spotless." In a dramatic flair of tears and indignant anger, she grabbed the clothes and stormed out of the room. I tried to keep it together, holding onto a closet shelf while my body silently shook with laughter. 

When I picked my girls up from school later on that day, without a word from me, my eldest went straight to work on her room. Girlfriend pulled out skills I didn't even know she had! She sorted her clothes and folded everything oh, so neatly! She made the bed and arranged all the books on the shelf. All the toys were displayed in perfect order. The closet was ready for a Martha Stewart magazine shoot. 

"May I change now?" She asked. 
"Well done, Baby! Well, done! Yes, you may!" I cheered. 

As my daughter removed her ruffled shorts like the plague and slipped on her ensemble du jour, I couldn't help but feel I was on to something. 


Why do we as mothers let ourselves get bent out of shape when our children don't listen to us? I've yelled and worn myself out trying to get my point across. Maybe the answer lies in turning the tables. Let them feel the consequences of their decisions while we calmly sit back and watch.