Well, last week I went onto their "wing" of the house and had my usual anxiety attack. It happens every time I turn the corner that leads to their hallway: chest tightens, breathing becomes short and labored, beads of sweat start forming, heart races….you get the point. No matter how many times I warn and threaten, they refuse to keep their things picked up off the floor of their bedroom and bathroom. Often, I even close their doors so I don't have to see it. There's no avoiding the problem when we're rushing out the door and someone can't find their __________.
What did I do? I collected everything in a trash bag. The next time they came looking for something, I announced that I had a collection of things that I found on the floor. If they wanted or needed anything from my collection, they would pay me $1 per item. They earn money for their grades on their report card and have saved up quite a bit of birthday and Christmas money as well. So, I think this really hit home. Who knows, maybe I've finally figured out a way to help them clean up their messes!