Teaching my kids to be kind (harder than it sounds)

There are two things I’m trying to teach my children: kindness, and gratitude. And also how to make a decent cup of tea. And how to wipe their own bottoms. And the lyrics to Uptown Funk. But that’s by the by. My point is, I’m trying to teach my kids to be good humans – to appreciate what they’ve got, and to empathise with those less fortunate. You’ll be pleased to hear that I’m failing miserably on all counts. Seriously, my kids are unanimously and spectacularly ungrateful.

Take breakfast this morning. I made them breakfast this morning, as I do every morning, despite the 10-year-old being perfectly capable of making said breakfast. I took their VERY SPECIFIC orders regarding their toast, and prepared their toast as per the VERY SPECIFIC ORDERS. I presented the toast to them on their appropriately coloured plates (green for Ben, 10, blue for Frankie, 4, and pink for Alice, 3), as they watched The Adventures of Gumball, goggle-eyed and open-mouthed. I stood in front of them, waiting for acknowledgement. Nothing. “Manners?” I asked. “Thank you,” they all mumbled, eyes not leaving the telly for a SECOND. So I stood in front of the telly. “Can you MOVE?” Ben asked, as I muttered bad words under my breath.

That wasn’t the end of it – of course it wasn’t. Eighteen seconds later they were all arguing over the toast, because someone stole someone else’s crusts (“I THOUGHT HE WAS FINISHED”), someone else had changed their mind on the last bite (“I WANTED ARTISAN HONEY INSTEAD OF JAAAAAAM”) and a third was just being a prat (“HIS TRIANGLES WERE BIGGER THAN MY TRIANGLES”) and using a carefully aimed toast segment as a weapon. Like, I had to spend 10 minutes wiping strawberry jam off the walls. Not cool.

Clearly, I’m not doing a great job at teaching my children gratitude and kindness. Parent fail, and all that. But I’m working on this. I started a reverse-advent-calendar thingy with them last week. I love this idea. Every time we go to the shops, I get the kids to choose something for a family in need. We chuck it in a box, and then – when it gets closer to Christmas – we’ll drop the box off to a charity that can pass it on. Yes, it means I have to take my children shopping with me, but, well … no, sorry, there is no upside to this. Taking children to the shops is horrific. Let’s just hope we don’t get banned before we’ve filled our box.

Explaining the reverse-advent-calendar concept to my children was not without its challenges.

Me: “So, kids, we’re going to the shops, and we’re going to buy things for families who aren’t as lucky as us.”

Ben: “What, people without Foxtel?”

Me: “Um, well no, they probably don’t have Foxtel, but that’s not what I mean. I mean families who don’t have as much as us.”

Ben: “But you said we were poor. You said that’s why I can’t have FIFA 17.”

Me: “Dude. We’re not poor. We’re not rich, but we’re not poor. There are families out there who can’t afford dinner.”

Ben: “If I was poor, I’d just eat bread for dinner.”

Me: “If you were rich, you’d just eat bread for dinner.”

Frankie: “I want to be poor! I want bread for dinner!”

Me: “Okay. Stop. What I’m trying to say is, there are families who don’t have much money. How could we help them? What could we buy these families?”

Frankie: “A Hulk costume!”

Alice: “Broccoli!”

Ben: “A Jamie Oliver cookbook!”

{Me, puts head in hands, despairs}: “What about everyday stuff? Like, the things we use all the time, and that we’d miss if we didn’t have?”

Frankie: “Soap.”

Alice: “A toothbrush.”

Ben: “Chocolate.”

Me: “Thank Christ for that.”

So yeah, we finally got there. It’s really important that the kids think about what they’re donating, and why. You remember those charity boxes at school, when you had to bring a tin of something for the poor families, and everyone (okay me) used to take whatever was past its use-by date in the cupboard? Tinned peaches and sweetcorn? That’s bullshit. That’s not what families in need want. I’m guessing – and I could be wrong here – that these families just want to feel normal. Because they are normal – they’ve just hit a bumpy patch in the road, and they need a hand to get back on their feet. It could happen to any of us, at any time, and I swear to god, I wouldn’t want tinned peaches and sweetcorn if it was me.

Anyway, that’s what I’m talking about with my kids. I’m hoping that if we keep talking, the concept will finally sink it, and gratitude and kindness will become second nature. I mean, I’m not holding my breath, but it’s worth a try, eh?