March 9, 2018

Why Does Your Child Need Chores and How To Get Them To Do Chores Without Complaining

Do your kids sit around the house all day while you are slaving away for endless hours? Are they spending too much time on technology (i.e. computers, tablets, phones, and yes! even television) while you are marching around trying to clean up after them? If so, you have come to the right place.

I started taking notice of this a few weeks ago with my own kids. I had become a lazy parent for some time. I didn't like arguing with them to get things done, so I just did it myself. Little did I know, I was actually hindering my kids.

I didn't think that they were ready to take on such tasks. I mean, come on, my daughter is 7 now and she doesn't know how to clean up after herself. I still have to go behind her and brush her teeth when she is done. She is very capable of doing things on her own now, but she is my baby.

This was my mindset. I hate cleaning but I realized I did chores at their age, too. I never thought of brushing my teeth and putting my clothes in the hamper were chores, though. I thought they were just essential life skills.

At the age of two, I think that if a child can make a mess, they can clean it up, too. They know where that toy came from, they can put it right back where they got it. They know how to clean up a spill if they drop their cup, I just have to hand them the towel.

My kids walked all over me while I just slaved away trying to get stuff done, only to get to bedtime and realize I didn't get anything done. As hard as it was on me, I had to realize they were my helpers.

My kids love helping me sweep, fold laundry, and even wipe the table after eating. They see it as a game. But either way, the chore is done. Granted, they know they get points if they do all their chores.

I know it is hard to come to the realization that your kids NEED chores and they SHOULD be helping you do them. I didn't want to make my babies do chores, either.

Let's talk about why our kids need chores... 

1. Chores erase entitlement
Yes, we want to give our little angels everything under the stars. What happens, though, when they become adults? Do we keep them home and do everything for them? Should they expect us to? No. Hard work can go a long way.
I learned how to change a flat tire over the phone when I was 16/17 years old, still in high school, from my dad. Did I whine about wanting him to take off work and lose money to come help me? No, I did not. I was proud to learn how to do this task. There were even some boys from school trying to help me and they couldn't figure it out. I did it! All by myself! And I was proud of myself for what I had achieved.
Let your kids be proud of themselves for reaching goals and accomplishing tasks by themselves. Don't make them feel like it needs to be handed to them or done for them when they are 25 and can't figure out how to make chocolate milk. I knew how to change the oil, a battery, a flat. I knew how to build a house, the names of almost all of the tools (instead of being like a DR. SEUSS book, "hand me that whatchamahoojit"). Kids want to learn and feel accomplished when they know how to do it.

2. Kids learn empathy, especially when they help the family. They learn that helping is rewarding.
As stated above, helping people and knowing/achieving things makes a person feel good inside. They go hand in hand. If they can change a tire, and see someone sitting at the gas station with no one to help them, they feel good knowing they helped that person as well as knowing they can do that task. Rewards don't have to be physical. Learning that when they help mommy with chores lets mommy spend more time with them, it makes them happy.

3. Children learn responsibility and how to accept it.
It teaches our babies how to own up to things they have done. "Mommy, I spilled my drink. Can I have a towel to clean it up?" Or if they are just learning, "Uh-oh, you made a mess. Should we get the towel and clean it up?" This states what they did so they can take responsibility instead of blaming someone else, and that we should clean it up either together or let them do it alone. Helping them at first gets them on the track of doing it by themselves the next time. "Oh my, your room is a mess. Should we clean it up so we can play in here instead of the living room?" Help them remember where the items go, show them so they can do it next time. Teach them that they are responsible for the mess and it's time to clean up now.

4. Chores are essential to learning and developing basic life skills that are needed to survive outside mom and dads home later in life.
They are going to live on their own one day. We can't keep them little forever. As much as we want to. We need to teach them that cleaning is healthy and being organized will help them in their own house one day. We don't want to visit our kids and realize that they don't know how to wash dishes or they can't make a meal to serve guests. We don't want to get a call saying they are stranded because they couldn't change their tire and we have to drive five hours to help them. I don't like depending on people, that was how I was raised. I like things done a certain way, and I like to know I can do it on my own. Our kids need to know how to clean, make a bed, wash their clothes, sweep and mop, brush their teeth, wipe and flush, and so much more. Let them learn while they are young, and then when they are older, like me, they won't see these things as chores. Honestly, they aren't. They are life skills. I learned how to sew my pants when they got holes when I was 12. I taught myself. Sewing is a life skill.

5. Chores can teach a good work ethic.
This goes hand in hand with #1. You want your kids to be hard workers so they can get that job. You don't want them walking around asking for hand-outs.
My husband had a fresh co-worker, who was upset one day. Why? Because she was working there for a week maybe two, and hadn't gotten a promotion yet. Seriously? I don't want my kid to think like that. You have to work hard to get what you want. You don't just show up and expect someone to put money in your hand. This is why we teach them through chores.

Children are helpers. They love to help us do things like washing the dog, wiping down the table, putting dishes in the dishwasher. They don't see it as chores right now. They see it as helping mommy or daddy. Let them help you and one day they will do it by themselves.


My 2 year old decided, after breakfast this morning (3/9/2018), that she wanted to wipe the table like her big sisters. She went and got the sponge and begged me to let her do it.

Sometimes, if they see their older siblings helping, they will want to also. They always follow them around anyway. They learn more from the older ones then they do from you through play and watching. Use that! Example: "Look what big brother is doing. Do you want to try?"

But I have tried to get them to do chores and they just fight me on it.

There are ways to get around this. I know you may want to give up after a few times of endless fights and arguments. I sure did. But I found a way that worked. So can you!

Here are a few ways that might help you get started...

You can start with one chore at a time at first and then introduce more once they get that one down. Slowly, get them used to having more responsibilities in the house.

You can introduce a point system like buttons in a jar.  I started using the app, Chore Monster which works with another app, Mothership. What is that? It is an app that lets me list chores for certain days of the week or every day for each kid. I can also choose rewards. Each time they do a chore, they get points. When they get to check off their chore, a little monster comes on and cheers while jumping up and down shouting "YAY!" Each reward is a certain amount of points. Examples are Game Night-75 points, Movie Night-50 points, Getting Ice Cream-100 points, Get A Toy-500 points. You can change it up all you want. You are in control on Mothership. You can do this with the buttons in a jar, too. You just have to stick to it.

You can use a sticker chart. Once they get a certain amount of sticker they get a prize. Toddlers are happy with just a piece of candy.

If your kids are older and always asking for toys and you want to teach them why they can't always get them, try introducing allowance to teach them how to use money wisely and why they have to work for what they want. Just like you do.

I wrote more about rewards and how to get your kids started on chores and a free Chores By Age Reference Guide. 

Kids need chores! It is essential to their growing up. It is our responsibility to help them grow up and learn these life skills!

I would love to hear your take on how you get your kids to do chores or help out around the house. Or how you feel about kids doing chores. Please feel free to drop a comment below or sign up for my email list and we can chat!

March 5, 2018

Mask Beneath Her Face by Rafael Chandler

Publication Date: October 14, 2017
Genre: Horror/ Thriller
During the 1980s, slashers terrorized America. With
machetes and masks, these unstoppable killers
stalked college campuses, quiet suburbs, and
lakeside cabins.

Thirty years ago, Bobbi Metzger survived a massacre
at her 16th birthday party. She spent decades
putting her life back together.

Tonight, Bobbi will face a new killer: a high-tech
slasher hell-bent on opening the doorway to an
abyss of unimaginable horror.

How long can Bobbi survive this nightmare? What
will she do to protect the people she loves? How
much blood is she willing to spill?


Bobbi Metzger wrenched the hatchet from her boyfriend's skull. In a few minutes, Bobbi thought, I will kill her,
or she will kill me. Either way, this is going to be over soon.
She lurched across the room. Blood-soaked carpet squished under her feet. Red droplets slid down and dripped from
the handmade banner over the doorway: Happy Birthday, Bobbi!
July 1st, 1987, was supposed to be the greatest night of her life. With their parents out of town, Bobbi and her sister
had invited everybody to the lake house, and they'd more or less trashed the place.
Bobbi stepped over a dead body: a girl in acid-washed jeans and a Noid t-shirt. Bobbi didn't recognize her. One of
Megan's friends.
The TV was still on. There was a video on MTV, some new band called Guns N' Roses. Bobbi's sister, Megan, had
switched loyalty from Def Leppard to these guys, because she thought their singer was hot. "I'd feel his serpentine,
"Those guys are all gross," Bobbi had said. "Rob Lowe's cute, though."
Megan had pretended to gag.
Thick drops of blood dotted the red icing on Bobbi's cake. A birthday card was propped up next to the cake, and the
message was scrawled in Megan's loopy handwriting: POP THAT CHERRY, BOBBI!
If Bobbi turned her head just a little bit, she would see Megan pinned to the wall with a fireplace poker through her
mouth, blood dripping from the band of her polka-dotted Swatch. Bobbi didn't look. She took another tentative step.
You can do it. You have to. If you don't, you're dead, like everyone else. No choice.
She stepped around the table in the middle of the room.
Heart pounding, Bobbi peeked into the kitchen. Nothing. She looked behind her.
On the couch, Bobbi's boyfriend Kevin stared at her blankly, the hatchet wound like a vertical grin in his forehead.
He wore a CONTRA t-shirt. Kevin spent most of his money down at Galaxy, the arcade at the mall, plugging quarters
into games like Contra and Rastan.
Last night, Kevin had tried to protect Bobbi, throwing himself at the woman in black; but she had plucked the
hatchet from his hand and buried it in his skull, so quickly that Bobbi wasn't sure it had happened at all.
Then the killer had grinned at Bobbi while Kevin slumped backwards onto the couch, the axe handle sticking out of
his skull. Bobbi tried to scream, but couldn't make a sound.
Seven hours later, she was still trying to scream.
She caught a glimpse of herself in hallway mirror; she'd aged thirty years in a single night. The side of her face was
swollen and sunrise-hued, crusted with dark blood.
Suddenly dizzy from pain and blood loss, she stumbled into the kitchen and banged her shin on a keg of beer. She
froze, eyes wide. The killer heard that. She's going to grab me and rip my face off. Hell, she's probably right behind
me. Bobbi turned to look. Nothing.
Carefully stepping around the keg, Bobbi tiptoed into the kitchen. Lipstick-stained cigarette butts spilled out of
ashtrays; empty cans of Coors Light huddled around the sink. Hell of a party, Bobbi thought.
Last night, Bobbi had very nearly taken her first sip of beer, and had (more or less) made up her mind to lose her
virginity to Kevin before the sun came up.
But around midnight, someone had emerged from the woods, right in the middle of Bobbi's sweet-sixteen festivities.
A woman in dark rags, clutching rusty knives, muttering nonsensical words.
A killer.

Hands trembling, Bobbi eased the kitchen drawer open. She paused, listening intently. Nothing. She sniffed the air.
Okay, make it quick. And quiet.
She pocketed a couple of lighters and a book of matches, then snuck out the door, onto the porch. The sun was
coming up.
Her face throbbed where the killer had tried to cut her face off. She had sliced Bobbi from ear to jaw; Bobbi
squirmed free and bolted for the woods.
She thought about running. Then Katie Harper ran past her, into the woods, still naked from skinny-dipping, her
hands covered in blood and her mouth open impossibly wide in a keening wail, and then Katie must have stumbled into
some kind of trap, because a massive wooden spike jabbed straight up out of a pile of leaves and went straight through
Katie's torso, impaling her in mid-stride, and she twitched silently for a few minutes as she hung there.
So Bobbi didn't run.
The police car was still parked in front of the lake house, doors wide open. Someone must have called 911 before
the phone line got cut. Crouching behind their car, the cops had opened fire on the killer, and in return, she had
scattered bits of them all over the lawn.
Bobbi stepped over a cop's leg. Sunlight glinted on ripples in the lake, but there was no movement on the shore. Just
mangled skinny-dippers.
Could get into the police car, maybe grab the radio, and push some buttons. Tell the other police to come quickly.
But no. She'd die waiting for the cops. And if she escaped this alive, she'd never sleep again. She'd go insane
waiting for the killer to find her.
She won't just let me go. I saw her face.
And she wants me dead.
Sunlight glinted off a cops watch; the cops arm, which lay next to an empty bottle of bourbon, had been hacked off
just above the elbow.
From the ragged stump, a drop of blood floated up, like a dandelion seed. Bobbi stared, bewildered. Other drops
beaded up on the torn flesh and cracked bone, and they drifted up into the air, weightless.
Bobbi shook her head. Was she hallucinating? Same thing happened last night, she thought, just before the killer
grabbed me. When she's near, blood floats like we're in outer space. Or maybe I've lost my mind.
Faster now, Bobbi staggered down the gravel path. It veered off the driveway, then split, one end curving over lush
grass to the boathouse, and the other sloping down to the lake. She trudged to shore, then gently stepped onto the
fishing pier.
Nothing on the shore behind her, no movement in the woods, nothing in the windows of the house. Maybe she's
gone. But no, the killer wasn't going to give up, sunlight be damned. She would follow Bobbi.

She had to follow Bobbi, in order for this plan to work...

Add to Goodreads:

If you love 80’s slasher flicks like Friday the 13 th or Sleepaway Camp, this book’s for you!
Warning: This book contains extreme gore and violence. Not for the faint of heart!

About the Author

Rafael Chandler writes novels (Hexcommunicated, The Astounding Antagonists), video games (SOCOM
4, Rainbow Six: Lockdown, MAG), and tabletop role-playing games (Teratic Tome, Lusus Naturae). He is a
metalhead, a kaijuphile, and a gorehound.

Purchase link: Face-Rafael- Chandler-

Author site:




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