A few minutes ago, I put my son down for a nap. He laughed and said, “Story time?” And he got a story. When I finished, I was getting up to leave, and he said, “Momma, good story.” Awwwww. What a darling.
Rewind a couple of hours.
We were outside, and he was playing with chalk on the driveway. I called my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday. My son decided that he would begin throwing chalk, was told to stop, did not stop, was told to put the chalk away, did not put the chalk away, but threw chalk and the bucket down the driveway. I told my grandmother that I had pressing business to attend to.
I picked up my child and took him inside. He began kicking and screaming. I tried holding him down until he calmed down, but that did not work (I was really at a loss. Do I frustrate him completely or just discipline and be done?) Um, I did what mothers of my discipline persuasion would do. He worked himself into a complete frenzy trying to get away from me, so I kept holding him in a position where he couldn’t move until he calmed down. Now, I can honestly say that I had not a bit of anger in me, and I was wishing desperately that he would have a change of heart. However, my child’s will is made of some strong material. He finally calmed down to the point where he was not taking huge, jerking breaths. I told him that we needed to pray. He said no. I put him in the chair and told him to let me know when he was ready. We did several rounds of, “Mommy, I’m ready.”
“You’re ready?”
“NO!” (Commence screaming.)
He was finally ready, and we prayed. Mommy silently prayed for wisdom, strength, wisdom, grace, and wisdom.
I told him that we needed to go outside so he could pick up his chalk. He wanted his tricycle. I told him that he could have his tricycle after he had picked up his chalk. That bit of information once again sent him over the edge, so he got banished to the chair until he decided that he should pick up chalk.
We finally went outside, and Nathan picked up his chalk. The whole ordeal lasted at least thirty minutes. THIRTY minutes. I’m still not sure that I did everything right. Raising a child, not to just obey, but to want to obey is a tough job. I can get a certain behavior from a child; I have a strong enough will to do that. Getting a certain attitude is a different matter. Instilling character goes so much deeper than outward obedience. Oh my.
Rewind a couple of hours.
We were outside, and he was playing with chalk on the driveway. I called my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday. My son decided that he would begin throwing chalk, was told to stop, did not stop, was told to put the chalk away, did not put the chalk away, but threw chalk and the bucket down the driveway. I told my grandmother that I had pressing business to attend to.
I picked up my child and took him inside. He began kicking and screaming. I tried holding him down until he calmed down, but that did not work (I was really at a loss. Do I frustrate him completely or just discipline and be done?) Um, I did what mothers of my discipline persuasion would do. He worked himself into a complete frenzy trying to get away from me, so I kept holding him in a position where he couldn’t move until he calmed down. Now, I can honestly say that I had not a bit of anger in me, and I was wishing desperately that he would have a change of heart. However, my child’s will is made of some strong material. He finally calmed down to the point where he was not taking huge, jerking breaths. I told him that we needed to pray. He said no. I put him in the chair and told him to let me know when he was ready. We did several rounds of, “Mommy, I’m ready.”
“You’re ready?”
“NO!” (Commence screaming.)
He was finally ready, and we prayed. Mommy silently prayed for wisdom, strength, wisdom, grace, and wisdom.
I told him that we needed to go outside so he could pick up his chalk. He wanted his tricycle. I told him that he could have his tricycle after he had picked up his chalk. That bit of information once again sent him over the edge, so he got banished to the chair until he decided that he should pick up chalk.
We finally went outside, and Nathan picked up his chalk. The whole ordeal lasted at least thirty minutes. THIRTY minutes. I’m still not sure that I did everything right. Raising a child, not to just obey, but to want to obey is a tough job. I can get a certain behavior from a child; I have a strong enough will to do that. Getting a certain attitude is a different matter. Instilling character goes so much deeper than outward obedience. Oh my.
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