helping them help

We don't do chore charts or pay allowances, instead trying to bring the concept of teamwork to the forefront, so the boys know that our family functions best when everyone contributes.

And yet I find myself pulling out a toy from the back of the closet, hoping it will have some novelty, hoping it will buy me enough time to get the counters wiped and the crumbs swept. This has been my strategy, especially as we've been trying to settle in to our new home: engage the boys in an activity, get them started and try to sneak away and cross something off my to do list.
When I pause though, I remember that what the boys want, often more than anything, is to spend time with me. Or with Andy. It doesn't matter what we're doing, even if it's "work." They would like the opportunity to try doing it with us: watering the plants, fixing the fan, baking the naan. Sometimes their "help" is clumsy and counter-productive, and often it is slow. But I understand the strong drive to be around family, and am fascinated by the innate desire to be helpful.

I read an article on NPR last week about how to get children to help with chores without resentment. Volunteering to help is such an important trait in kids that Mexican families have a term for it: acomedido. "It's a really complex term," says Andrew Coppens, an education researcher at the University of New Hampshire. "It's not just doing what you're told, and it's not just helping out. It's knowing the kind of help that is situationally appropriate because you're paying attention."

This feels far more important to me than, say, having the boys make their beds every morning.
Tolliver is particularly good at paying attention, and finding solid ways to pitch in. He mentions he's ready for lunch and begins to pull out the blender and the frozen fruit, knowing how to get the smoothie show on the road. He understands that he has earned screen time, but sees that I am swiffering the floors while Hank naps, and picks up Legos before he picks up the Switch. He notices the laundry basket of clean towels that have been left untouched for several days and begins folding tall stacks, separating piles by bathroom. He's even had some success convincing Hank that Hamilton is good table-setting music, and Elmo's Song is better suited for matching socks.

Awhile ago we decided to use the phrase "would you be willing." We've tried to ask each other for help with these words as much as we've tried to use them with the boys. Different from the response to hearing the words "I need you to do A, B or C," there may be better feelings generated by a willingness to cooperate. While the I need you to demand feels like an affront to autonomy, the would you be willing request seems to recruit more cells of generosity.
Tolliver may have figured this out too, having asked recently whether I'd be willing to bake a half birthday cake with him...