bearing blog

Imagine a spreadsheet...

...with time down the left hand side, divided up into fifteen-minute blocks, for a whole day.

Not every day, just Tuesdays and Thursdays.

And imagine across the top, column headings for me and for Hannah and for ten children.  Ages 13, 12, 11, 9, 9, 8, 6, 5, 3, and 1.  (No, they aren't all ours.  That is a somewhat long story.)

Scratch that. Imagine a dining room table. And a whole lot of index cards. And some post it notes. And clothespins to hold some of the cards together.

That's how it started.

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You may remember that I co-school with my friend Hannah, and her children, and two or three extra children, two days a week.  We don't cover all our school subjects on those days, just some of them:  Latin, English, history, and some assorted craft and art and music.  

Monday-Wednesday-Friday, separately, we teach our own kids all the other subjects.  Math and such.

Four of our kids were off visiting various grandparents, and the remaining ones were mostly playing happily, so we started off listing every subject and every kid.  Then, while I made lunch, Hannah transferred the information to index cards.  "I thought of cutting them up into different lengths to represent different time blocks," she said later, "but then I thought, 'That's insane.'"

Later we decided:  insane is sometimes more useful.

Cut to the long dining room table.

Time runs from left to right across the table.  We commence moving index cards around. 

There are constraints, of course:

• The same child cannot be taught two subjects at the same time.
• Each child can only be trusted for so long to sit and work independently.
• I am not, personally, capable of teaching two of my subjects simultaneously.    
• Someone has to be responsible for the toddlers at all times.
• If you row to the other side of the river with the bag of grain, the fox will eat the chicken. Or something like that.

 We can loosen things up by deciding to teach some stuff on Tuesdays and other stuff in the same block on Thursdays.  Hence the clothespins:  if these two things are each done once a week, and they each take 45 minutes, and they entrain the same children, they could occupy the same time block.  So they move around as one.

Eventually the cards and clothespins stop making intuitive sense to me, and I am worried that a child will disperse them, so I start trying to freeze them in place in a spreadsheet.

At this point we realize that we have failed in our first attempt:  In two places, both Hannah and I are focused on intensive teaching at the same time.  This means that the preschooler and the toddler are, hypothetically, running feral for an hour and forty-five minutes (although to our credit, we did plan to feed them lunch in the middle).

We have tried the "feral preschooler" solution before.  It ends badly.   We shuffle things around again.

It turns out that we cannot -- literally cannot -- free up one of us at every hour of the day to care for the preschoolers.  We cannot even free up one of us to "keep an eye on them" while teaching something less intense.  So we do our best to minimize the overlap, and assign simultaneous responsibility for teaching and preschoolers where necessary.  

So, for example, I have a half-hour block where I am reading history books aloud to three elementary-school kids, but because Hannah is teaching middle school English and she needs to concentrate, I must also be responsible for the two preschoolers.

I'll figure that out as I go along.  Maybe I'll give them some playdough at the same table, maybe I'll be reading a picture book and I'll have them listen, maybe I'll put on a DVD for them, maybe I'll assign an eight-year-old to entertain them while he listens to the reading, maybe I'll strap them in a chair and feed them chocolate chips one at a time.  I'll do something.  But what I won't do is assume that Hannah will take care of them while she assumes that I will. 

Hannah has a similar time block later in the day, where she has to teach elementary-school Latin and I have to go over history homework with middle schoolers.  So at least it's fairly fair.

Finally we had a spreadsheet that made sense to me.  Hannah had to absorb it and check it over for a while.  I left her alone with my iPad and some tea.

.

And I think we have something that will work.  We have to start school by 10:15, which gives us time for a vitally important cup of coffee together before we start.  Everyone gets an hour for lunch (and this year we will be rotating "server" assignments among the bigger children so that Hannah and I can actually sit down and eat our lunch instead of fetching cups of water and slices of bread).  The elementary school kids finish at 3:45.  We're done teaching at 4.  The middle schoolers have until five to finish up their independent work.

Are we going to follow the schedule slavishly?  Is that the point of this exercise?

No, the main point is to find out if our ideas about all the things we would teach next year were even possible.  Are there enough hours in the day?  How many times a week can we do such and such a thing?  What do we think we will have going all at once?  

So, we have a plan.  We even have a "what if we start an hour late" plan.  We can be flexible, but we have to start with a plan first.

I'm on Google+, by the way.

I'm just getting started, but already I like it very much.  

Here's the thing about FB.  I've decided to use it to keep up with a fairly small number of people (less than 60 at this writing).  I don't have time to deal with a bunch of interlinked privacy settings and lists each time I make a post, so I've made an executive decision to control my privacy at the level of "whom do I friend."   To make the cut, a person has to be either

• someone I would literally have called "my friend" now or at some stage in my life -- and I can afford to be generous with this because there never have been that many people who fit that description at any level; or
• someone who is related to me; or
• someone whom I have had a long, 2-way correspondence with online.  Long enough that I feel I know them and they know me.

Between that and setting almost everything to "Only friends can see this" I feel satisfied with the level of privacy, and I enjoy using FB to keep up with all those people.

What I don't get to do, with these sensible rules, is follow strangers who produce good content.  For example, I don't get to friend Simcha Fisher under these rules, because I don't know her.  In my imagination, Simcha posts very funny status posts all day, and I don't get to see them.  Poor me.  I suppose  I could friend her, but in my imagination, she could also be an evil stalker, right?  Bent on world domination?  Anyway, I am leery of sending Simcha Fisher (whom I don't know) photographs of me and my children rolling out cookie dough*  for her to repost to the world (HA HA HA JUST LOOK AT THOSE PANTS), just because I like her blog.  You know?

But (not that Simcha is on G+ yet) I anticipate a different experience with G+.  It's very easy to control whom you share a given post with.  So I anticipate putting LOTS of people in my circles, so that I can see what they choose to share publicly.  And then I think I can be comfortable with writing a fair number of public posts but also reserving some posts to go out only to people I know personally.  And who knows, maybe I will wind up listening more than talking; it depends how many people I know make the switch.

All this is to say to my readers, I'm there, and I'm expecting to encircle people fairly promiscuously, unlike on FB, where chances are if you sent me a friend request I would decline it.  Look for me under my real name.  

(p.s. If you need an invite, let me know -- in the comments are fine -- and I'll send it to the email address you type in the combox.)

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*Hypothetical situation for rhetorical purposes.  No pictures exist of me and my children rolling out cookie dough because that has never happened in real life.  I only ever make drop cookies, except for my Grandma's filled Hungarian cookies at Christmas, which are very rich and are rolled out in powdered sugar, and I won't let the kids help with those because (a) you have to work quickly unless your kitchen is very cold (b)  they would eat all the raw cookie dough scraps and get sick and (c) there would be no leftover dough for me.

Bastille day.

I only have time for a short post, so here's a little quiz for you.  Choose the right answer:

(A) It's totally plausible that on Bastille Day in 1993, the author of this blog, finding herself in France, got drunk with a couple of other Americans (male graduate students) and went down to the festival by the river to stumble around singing "La Marseillaise" as loudly as possible, because she knows all the words, while French people glared at her and her gym shoes and her T-shirt from an American rock concert.  Then she got some killer ice cream.

(B) No, no, the Bearing I know would never do such a thing.

Another look at St. Benedict's Rule in the family.

Are you, like me, one of the women who read Holly Pierlot's A Mother's Rule of Life, got all excited, ran with it for a while, went completely overboard, and never opened the book again?

(Bonus points if you still have a multicolored schedule spreadsheet stashed somewhere in a daily planner, one from two or three kids ago.)

(Extra bonus points if you have an old excited blog post about how it was going to change your life).

(Extra-extra bonus points if moldering in a cupboard somewhere -- that is, if organizational supplies can molder --are materials produced by the organization that I think of as the MOTH People.)

I don't want to dis Holly Pierlot too much.  There really are some good things in that book.  It's more that tendency in me to jump on the latest schedule-tweaking idea that comes along.  Nothing wrong with trying out new things, but after mothering for almost eleven years and homeschooling up to sixth grade I am starting to come to terms with the, shall we say, fluid nature of time-block expectations in this particular vocation.  Changing systems will not do away with this fundamental truth.

Anyway, a nice antidote to being a card-carrying member of Mother's Rule of Life Quitters Anonymous is this new little booklet by Fr. Dwight Longenecker, hosted at the Knights of Columbus national website:  Saint Benedict for Busy Parents.  (pdf file) It's about 25 pages long and is well worth a download-and-read. 

Where Pierlot drew inspiration from St. Benedict's Rule to create a well-prioritized schedule for herself and for her family, a sort of copycat version of the bells that mark the hours in monastic life, Fr. Longenecker encourages us to be centered not on the bells but on the principles of Benedictine spirituality.  Those principles are embodied in what Fr. Longenecker calls the "two holy trinities:" 

• The Benedictine monastic vows: 
  • obedience
  •  stability
  • conversion of life

 

• The daily pursuits of individuals living in a Benedictine community:
  • prayer
  • work
  • study

 

(Note that popular culture generally associates monastic vows or even, confusing it further, priest's vows, as being "poverty, chastity, and obedience."  That's the Franciscans, not the Benedictines; although it turns out that Benedictines are supposed to embrace chastity just like any Christian, and own nothing or very little as a consequence of obedience to their Rule, Benedictines do not vow poverty and chastity).

Fr. Longenecker considers each of these six principles and, without going out of his way to show us exactly how to apply them to the vocation of family life, explains their purpose, and tries to show where joy can be found in them.

On obedience:

We must remember...that Benedict portrays the Abbot... as a virtuous, wise and patient man, who never demands anything of his sons that is not for their best. He understands the weaknesses of human nature, and while he expects obedience, he never demands anything harsh or burdensome. In addition to this, he always wants the monks to engage with their obedience in the deepest, most curious and adventuresome way. The command of the abbot (and therefore the commands of parents) should be there to help the monk (and the child) to be intrigued by their spiritual path, and to obey with a sense of adventure and discovery rather than with blind and dull obedience alone.

On stability:

A famous writer on the Benedictine way has summed up the vow of stability. He says: “God is not elsewhere.” In literal terms the vow of stability means the monk makes a vow to remain part of one particular religious community for life. By taking a vow of stability, the monk is deciding that the path to heaven will begin exactly where he is and nowhere else. His love of neighbor must become incarnate in charity toward the members of the community, rather than allowed to become a vague benevolence toward no one in particular.

On work:

Work helps to incarnate the spiritual realities of the praying monk. When he works in the kitchen or in the fields; when he teaches in school or works in a hospital; when he works in a factory or shop, the monk applies the graces obtained through prayer to the real, physical world. In his Rule, Benedict instructs the monks in small ceremonies and prayers which they are to observe in their everyday work. For instance, when they set about their work in the kitchen, they preface their work with the words “O God, come to my assistance. O Lord, make haste to help me.” This call for God’s help and grace in their work is the same prayer with which they begin the Divine Office in chapel. So their prayer life and their working life are intertwined.

The whole piece is worth sitting down and reading carefully and in full.  It makes me want to read Fr. Longenecker's  book on Sts. Benedict and Thérèse cited in the endnotes.

Incidentally, anyone of the "what does a Catholic priest know about family life" persuasion should note that Fr. Longenecker is one of those converted former Anglican priests; he is married with four kids...

 

Caesar with a twist?

So I was making a cheater's Caesar salad, because I am out of anchovies:  I used Thai fish sauce instead, which works fine.  And I also substituted sriracha sauce for the more traditional dash of tabasco, because it was easier to find in the fridge.

And that got me thinking:

I am a sucker for a good Caesar salad.  I make a good one myself, if I may brag a bit.  I think that the Caesar salad is one of the classic blends of flavors and textures, perfectly balanced:  fruity olive oil, bright lemon, snappy garlic, spicy tabasco and mustard and black pepper, the twin fermenty flavors of anchovy and parmesan.  All on the blank but crispy background of Romaine lettuce.  With good bread for croutons, what more would you want?

But putting the sriracha and fish sauce in made me think:

You could substitute lime for the lemon, too.  You could substitute crispy rice noodles for the croutons.  You could maybe put a few shrimp in there instead of the whole anchovies.  You could make a Southeast-Asian inspired Caesar salad!  

The only thing that wouldn't work very well is the Parmesan.  But perhaps for that fetid-fermenty flavor you could use a spoon or two of those fermented black beans that come in a jar?

What do you think?

Hot stuff.

Pardon the poverty of formatting. I am still getting used to blogging with the iPad.

Margaret's recent posts about her 2-year-old's burgeoning vocabulary made me want to join in with a little vocabulary-blogging of my own.

I know it's indulgent, and maybe only the speech pathologists among my readers will be interested -- but what's a blog for if you can't post cute kid pictures and anecdotes now and again?

Number four is seventeen months old, and his language is -- if not quite taking off -- definitely bumping along the runway and picking up speed. The unformed "ma ma ma ma ma" babble that has referred to me for many months now has only just crystallized into a clear, two-syllable "Mama." He does not say "no" yet, which is sort of surprising -- all the others had "no" early -- but he does shake his head emphatically, and when he does he means it. He nods vigorously for "yes," too, with a big smile.

We tried using sign with all four of our kids, with more or less success. This one wasn't interested until all of a sudden, around the time he started to say "mama," he began using several ASL signs at once: milk, more, toilet (which we also use for "diaper"), and an invented sign that appears to mean "HEY! THE CEILING FAN IS GOING! WHOAAAAA MY MIND IS SO BLOWN!"

I have heard him use each of the other kids' names on occasion, but not consistently. The only food he calls by name is "egg," and if he is hungry he will bring me a spatula and announce "egg! Egg!" He will also say "nack" if asked if he wants any meal or nibble. And then there is this exciting word-fragment, "vuh-vuh-vuh-vuh," that appears to mean both (1) any animal -- especially, but not necessarily, a dog -- and (2) also any sort of machine or vehicle that makes a motor noise.

But the importance of all these words and signs, useful as they are, pales in comparison with the most important word, the first one he learned, and the one he says all day long: "hot."

"Hot" has been the first word of all four of my kids -- it comes easily when every adult around you has a cup of coffee or tea in hand most of the time! -- but I have never seen another kid that was so into the concept of "hot." Every time he enters the room, my little guy looks around and quickly identifies every possible source of heat, pointing to each in turn (well, not pointing exactly, more holding his hand up in a sort of "halt!" gesture). Coffee cup on the table: hot. Toaster oven on the counter: hot. Teapot: hot. Microwave oven: hot. Any plate of cooked food set before him: hot. Open dishwasher: hot. Box of birthday candles: hot. Seatbelt buckle: hot. He likes to sit on the floor and stir a wooden spoon in a saucepan, happily chattering "hot hot hot" to himself.

The most interesting thing about this is that as time has gone on, he has generalized "hot" to mean not only "this thing could be at an elevated temperature" but also "this thing is something I am not supposed to touch." So, for example, Mama's eyeglasses are "hot." Daddy's smartphone is "hot." The bottle of wine on the dinner table is "hot." Sharpies are "hot." Mama's wallet is "hot." The older kids' schoolwork is "hot." And so on.

"We should teach him how to say 'verboten,'" Mark suggested last night. I know he will figure out the distinction eventually. For now we are just enjoying this extremely cute stage while it lasts. Babies don't keep, you know...

Empty cupboard round-up: #1, the trial version.

Just a few entries (unsurprising for a first-time offering).  But here goes:

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Last week I suggested a call for submissions of empty cupboard meals.  My contribution:  Grilled meatloaf with three different veggie side dishes and homemade bread.

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MilWife Mama of One at Drops in a Bucket comes up with a nice-sounding title:  "Eating on Empty."  She suggests homemade pizza night:

Our family has a few go-to meals for when we've run out of food, ideas, or gumption.  One of my favorites is homemade pizza!  Even when our cupboards are otherwise quite bare, we always have flour, yeast, and salt on hand.  Well, and water.  But water's free.  I like free.

Click through for a recipe for Quick and Easy Pizza Dough and some empty-pantry toppings suggestions.

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Lissla Lisslar's Blog features several intriguing combinations.  I don't even know what Hakka sauce is, but if it goes with Thai food, hummus and nachos it must be good.

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The always reliable ChristyP of It's a New Day Every Day adapts Linguine with White Clam Sauce from Rachael Ray.  One of my favorite dishes to order in a restaurant -- oddly, I've never tried it at home.  That will have to change.  Canned pineapple on the side!

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Donna at ecclesia domestica offers lazy pulled pork, served with coleslaw (always a great empty cupboard side dish -- cabbage keeps a long time in the crisper!) and the coup de grace:

The last addition was a side of tater tots.  What can I say about this except that we all love tater tots.  Maybe we shouldn't, but we don't eat them that often and I try not to get too hung-up on these things.!  

I agree.   They make my family happy, at least.  Pass the ketchup!

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Last but not least, Christy P. has a second offering:  a story of fortuitous foraging.  When life hands you free romaine lettuce, make a nice salad.

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If you've sent one in just the last few hours, be patient, I'll catch up; I scheduled this post some time before it appeared so it would be sure to be out by dinnertime.   :-)

 

 

Okay, let's get that empty cupboard round-up on.

Consider this post a call for submissions for an empty cupboard recipe round up.  

It's an experiment -- we'll see how many posts I can get for it, and maybe tweak the process next time.  (MilWifeMamaofOne has already sent me one link, thus lighting a fire under me.  Thanks, MilWilfeMamaofOne!)

Let's say you have about three days to get the posts in, and I'll try to post the roundup on Friday of this week (before dinnertime).

A recap of the rules:

1. Write a post about what you managed to throw together when you hadn't yet gotten a chance to go grocery shopping.  
2. You have to post the whole meal, not just one recipe.  (This is especially important if no actual recipes were harmed during the preparation of the meal.
3. It's okay if one or more of the components was packaged/prepared/processed, out of season, non-organic, or raspberry Jell-o (TM).  I'm interested in the whole picture of thinking out of the box to create a pleasant dining experience for your family.
4. Send me a link to your post by Friday morning and I'll get it up on Friday before dinnertime.

Shall we give it a try?

A summer algorithm for a pleasant family meal.

- Prepare a one-bowl main-dish salad, such as tabbouleh with chickpeas thrown in it, or Indonesian rice salad, or lentil-red pepper-feta salad, or perhaps curried chicken salad or something like that, or a nice Caesar with some grilled steak to throw in.

- Make sure there's plenty of bread to go with it.

- Slice up some cheese that the children like.  Cold cuts or salami or pepperoni would also do.  I like to use mozzarella or colby.

- Have a big bowl of fresh fruit, like strawberries or grapes.  Not a fruit salad -- too much trouble.  Just some nice ripe fruit.

- Give the kids a taste of the salad, and if they don't like it, say "Fine, that means there's more for me!  Have some bread, cheese, and fruit."

At least, that worked for us this evening.

Happy Fourth!

Internet contract for kids.

After I wrote the Internet safety lesson I described in a previous post, I learned that my good friend IRL The Road Scholar had put up a lot of good links related to Internet use in the homeschool.  This included a set of "10 digital commandments for kids" in the form of a contract for kids to go over with their parents and sign.  (The Road Scholar's commandments were, in turn, adapted from a set found at Komando.com.)

I thought the contract was a great idea.  And no, I don't think it's overkill.  Whenever there are complicated permission structures, where the rules are many and detailed, having "the rules" in a written form is good for everybody, so that we can refer back to it to remember exactly what we previously agreed upon.   Also, going over the rules carefully is a way to have a conversation about what the rules should be.  Parents do have authority over their kids, but sometimes kids have good ideas that should be incorporated into the agreement. 

It's particularly important in areas where kids and teens are learning to exercise freedom responsibly:  internet use, staying home alone, learning to drive a car. In situations like that, we want them to stretch a little bit, so that they can gain experience and (it's to be hoped) wisdom; but we do not want them to stretch dangerously beyond their capabilities faster than their maturity can keep up.   That is complicated and subjective, and in a bigger family it's hard to keep track of where everybody is at a given time.

Furthermore, I think it's important to include items that protect the child's interests as well.  At some point, I think a parent needs to demonstrate respect for a child's privacy by agreeing to limit blogging about them or writing about them on FB.  So note below that the contract includes language that could let my child ask me to remove or modify blog posts about him.  And I think it's so important that a child be honest about what he or she encounters online, that I think it's reasonable to agree up front that if the child tells us promptly about a potentially dangerous encounter, he will not be punished (though privileges might be reduced; changes in privileges should not be construed as punishments).

So I took the contract and adapted it for my own family, in which there is an almost-11-year-old boy who is just now getting expanded access to the Internet.  I thought I'd post the text of my adapted contract here.  Feel free to use it or adapt it for your own family.

Comments are welcome.  We haven't gone over the contract with him yet, so please tell me if you have any feedback or suggestions!  I can still make changes.

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Internet and Computer Contract for Kids Under 18

 
When I use computers, mobile devices, phones, and the Internet, I promise to follow these rules to keep my family, my friends and myself safe.   I will discuss these rules with my parents and initial each section as we discuss them.

--

1.  My parents will decide when I am allowed to use the computer, cell phone, Wii or other game system, and the Internet.

• I will only visit sites they say I can.
• I will only do things we agree are appropriate.
• I will log out when they ask me to log out.
• I will not allow my siblings to log in on my account or use my “time” without permission.
• I will respect the rules that my friends' parents set for them.  I will not help them break their parents' rules.
• If I use the Internet while I am away from my parents or at a friend's house, I will let my parents know that I did.  I will tell them about any new games I played.  
• If I or one of my friends brings a new game or video into the house, I will show it to my parents.
• I will tell my parents if I accidentally use a device, play a game, or  visit a site I  think they might not want me to use.  I know that my parents will not punish me for accidentally doing this as long as I tell them right away.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

2.   I will never tell anyone secure information without getting my parent’s permission first.

• I will not say when I am alone or when the house is empty or tell my family's schedule.
• I will not tell my family's last name, address, workplaces, passwords, or phone numbers.  
• I will keep this information about my friends as private as I keep my own information.
• I will not use the Internet to show, spread, or tell anything private.
• If I am not sure whether something should be kept private, I will ask my parents.
• If I want help keeping something private, I can ask my parents.
• I know that if I ask my parents to keep private a story or a picture that features me, they will respect my wishes.  I can ask my parents to remove information that they have shared about me from social media.
• I know that it is very easy for secrets to spread once they are in electronic form.
• I know that any electronic message on the Internet could be read or seen by anyone, forever.
• If I accidentally reveal information, I will tell my parents the same day so they can act to protect our family.  I know my parents will not punish me if I tell them right away.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

3.   I will not participate in mean, physically dangerous, or morally wrong activities online.

• If anyone does or says anything that bothers me, I will tell my parents.
• I will show my parents if I see material or play a game that 
  • is obscene 
  • depicts real and severe violence or simulates realistic and severe violence
  • shows nudity, meaning pictures of people who are naked or who are showing the parts of their bodies usually covered by bathing suits
  • is cruel
  • encourages people to do things that are wrong or illegal
  • frightens or disturbs me
  • tries to trick me into revealing personal information or do something wrong
  • seems to be a lie
• I know that my parents will not punish me for accidentally seeing such material if I tell my parents right away.
• I will not do, say, send, or show anything obscene, illegal, immoral, frightening, or cruel.
• I know that it is not lying if I use a fake name to protect my identity or if I refuse to tell information to a person who has no right to know it.  I know that it is always okay for a kid to refuse to tell any information over the Internet.
• I know that search engines and online information sources such as Wikipedia could lead me to sites that are obscene, cruel, dangerous, frightening, or tricky.
• I know that much of the information on the Internet is untrue or misleading.
• If I want to search for information on the Internet at home, I will let my parents know before I start.  I will always search on the computer in the living room where they can observe me and help me.
• If I want to use the computers in the library to search, I will use the computers set aside for kids in my age group (“kids” or “teens.”)

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

4.   I will never post or send pictures of myself, my family or friends without my parents' permission.

• If I set up a blog or online profile, I will tell my parents where it is and how they can read it.
• If I join a social network, mailing list, file or sharing site, or group of any kind, I will invite my parents to join.
• I will work with my parents to set privacy and sharing settings that satisfy them.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

5.   I will never, ever meet with anyone I've talked with online without first talking to my parents.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

6.   If my parents ask for my password, I will give it to them.

• I will never give out any passwords I know to any others, not even friends or siblings.
• If I find out a password that belongs to my parents, I will tell them that I know it.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

7.   If I want to download anything, I will ask for permission FIRST.

• I know that some applications, games, music, movies, or programs are unsafe to download.
• I know that I must pay for these things and that the cost is sometimes hidden.
• I know that sometimes “free” content is really stolen.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

8.  I will not try to win free things or buy things on a phone or on the Internet. 

• If I get a message that I have won something, I will show my parents.
• If I get an email asking me to enter a password or other information, I will tell my parents.
• I will not forward messages that tell me bad stuff will happen to me if I do not forward them.
• I will not click on any advertisements.  If I accidentally click on an advertisement, I will close any new windows that appear and go “back” to the last page I was viewing.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

9.   I will not change settings, install software, or open my parents' files without permission.

•  If I think I might have accidentally done this, I will tell my parents right away so they can fix it.
• I know that my parents will not punish me for accidentally doing this as long as I tell my parents right away.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

10.   I understand that my parents allow me to use the Internet, computers, and games on the condition that I do not hide from them what I do. 

• My parents may examine the computer, my phone or any other device that they or I own.
• They may see where I have gone on the Internet, what emails and text messages I’ve sent and received, the things I’ve downloaded, or what I do. 
• I will not erase my browsing history or record of sent messages without permission.
• I will BCC one of my parents on every email I send until they set different rules for me.
• I promise not to turn off or alter any parental-controls settings or software installed by my parents.
• I will not close a window when my parents come into the room to hide something I’m viewing.
• If I use code words or abbreviations, I will tell my parents what they mean.
• If I think I may have accidentally done something I am not supposed to, I will tell my parents right away.
• If I want to do something that I am not sure my parents would approve of, I will ask them first.

Initial here:   Kid _____     Parent _____

 

For the child:

• I have read the above, and I will follow these rules.     
• If I do not follow these rules, I understand that my parents might reduce my privileges or punish me.
• I understand that “reducing my privileges” is not necessarily a punishment.  My parents might reduce my privileges for any reason in order to keep our family safe.
• I also understand that even if my parents do not punish me, my actions on the Internet might have consequences from which my parents might not be able to protect me or from which they might choose not to protect me.

_____________________________________

Child's signature                                 Date

For the parents:

• I agree to let my child use electronic devices as long as they follow these rules.  
• I agree to answer any of my child's questions that will help him or her use the Internet safely and responsibly.   
• I agree to make changes to the rules clearly and in writing, and keep them with this contract, so that my child always knows what the rules are.
• I agree not to punish a child for accidentally breaking a rule, as explained above, as long as he promptly tells  a parent about it.
• I agree to discuss my child's ideas for safely increasing privileges as the child learns to use the Internet responsibly.

____________________________________

Parent's signature                               Date


_____________________________________

Parent's signature                                Date                 

 

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