Wonderful Weekend

Why oh why must the weekend ever end? We should have work two days a week and weekends five days. That would rock.

Poor Alan had to do lots of chores on Father's Day weekend. I helped where I could, but cutting the grass is out. It's just too hot and any exercise makes me contract. I can help fold and put away laundry, but between my lack of balance and aforementioned contractions, carrying laundry from the bedrooms to the washer and dryer, without mishap, is just about impossible. Ditto bending down to load a dishwasher.

So I did the things I could. I folded socks and underwear. I cooked supper. (Yep, you heard right. Tacos. My family's favorite meal. Ander even ate a piece of tomato. Massive excitement and mega praising ensued.)

Alan and I discussed how consistent we are with Ander. It's kind of spooky how consistent we are. If we say the rule and the consequence, we follow through 99% of the time. It's almost inhuman how much we do that. But it seems to work without being overbearing for Ander. He's definitely not scared of us or anything. I think it works because we limit the number of rules, use lots of positive reinforcement (especially for cleaning up and eating veggies), and are pretty easy-going about what he does when. We also don't hesitate to make exceptions (like letting him sleep with us Friday night when he wasn't feeling well), but we label that stuff as special. He is starting to understand special stuff.

This blog isn't very coherent today, is it? Ah, well, I have tons of work to do anyway.

Etcetera.