Mamas and Daddies, Don't Drive Your Kids Crazy

There are days in our household when our patience with the kids has worn so thin you can see straight through it to burning rage and frustration, and about the time the sun starts to set, that weather-worn sheet of patience just isn't enough anymore to spare our over-stimulated children from the wrath of bedtime.  Oh, the sun doesn't set on our anger-- I'm pretty sure the kids know we're not happy with them after the fourteenth time climbing the stairs.

I don't think we're alone in our strife; there's a new book out for adults right now, written in the spirit of bedtime stories, called, Go the %$#@ to Sleep, that in spite of the language captures the essence of bedtime for many families.  We're all tired, and somewhere, our kids have picked up a manual on classic manuevers to manipulate Mom and Dad out of going to sleep.  Every kid has figured out that going potty, asking for a drink of water, requesting another book, hunting for the one stuffed animal, tucking in, begging for another hug and kiss or song or prayer, etc. will delay the inevitable shutting of the eyes.

The "Battle at Bedtime" boils down to one thing: thy will be done vs. my will be done.  I want you to go to sleep, and you want to stay up.  One of us is going to lose, and it isn't going to be me.

Your will vs. my will infiltrates every day life, but because of the Super Cape of Patience being sucked away in the tornado of the day, the war is especially heated at bedtime.  When that cape disappears earlier in the day, parents everywhere find themselves exerting their wills over their kids whenever they have a chance.  Being firm sneaks across the line to force.  I know I've crossed the line from firm to controlling when I say no to requests like, "Can I take this toy with me in the car?" or "Can I put on this dress?"

I probably say "this is one of the hardest things about parenting" every time I talk about parenting, but I do believe this is one that ranks high on the list.  When we ask for obedience from our kids, is it with their best interests in mind or is it simply because we want them to do what we want them to do?  Why are we asking for obedience?

Ephesians 6:4 is explicit about how parents should instruct their kids.  Here are two versions:

"Fathers, do not irritate and provoke your children to anger [do not exasperate them to resentment], but rear them [tenderly] in the training and discipline and the counsel and admonition of the Lord." (Amplified)

"Fathers, don't exasperate your children by coming down hard on them. Take them by the hand and lead them in the way of the Master." (The Message)

The Sarah version says something like this, "Mamas and Daddies, don't drive your kids crazy.  Love on them, guide them in the ways of Christ, but don't beat them into the ground with your rules."  We say over and over again that we want to rear our kids up in the Lord, but I don't think we know what we're talking about.  Jesus didn't lay out a bunch of rules, after all, and he didn't guilt his followers into obedience.  He didn't beg for love or deny them love because they screwed up.  He taught them, disciplined them when they screwed up, and then gave them grace upon grace.

Honestly, it's easier to yell and scream than to follow Christ's example with our kids, but in terms of effectiveness, I think Jesus's way wins.  Shocking news.  Oh there are times I'd like to yell, Go the $#@% to sleep, for sure, yell instead "GO TO SLEEP!" but nope, surprisingly, that doesn't work either.

So, mamas and daddies, together let's hunt for our Super Capes and do what we can to conquer our own wills and try to do the will of our Father.  God help us.

Adventures in Potty Training, with Biblical Application, Even!

I have never been so proud of bowel movements.

We began potty training our son, Elvis, a few weeks ago. We eased him into the process with the convenient yet pointless Pull-Ups and their sneaky tricks to entice you into buying boxes and boxes of them under the guise of "potty training" when really, they are just absorbent underwear, diapers without velcro tabs. Annoying.

So after messing around with the Pull-Ups for a while, we decided to go all out. It was time to buy the underwear. Naturally, we made a big deal out of the "big boy" undies and their manly navy blue with baseballs and basketballs all over them, snagging a box of Disney Pixar Cars underwear for after he goes in the potty -- "Now you get to wear the REALLY COOL underwear!!!!" And thus, the pants-wetting began.

It was slow going at first - lots of walking around in wet pants as if nothing at all happened down there between his legs. We escorted him off to the bathroom every 30 minutes, kept him in his underwear and a t-shirt all day (no sense wearing pants during this process, people), and did our best to stay patient and calm... after all, this is a big deal, this potty business.

Some people have begun potty training their kids as soon as they can sit up, and I have to admit I'm amazed and envious. How?! The child can't even feed himself but we're pooping in the potty? Amazing. Absolutely amazing. We have not been so motivated - infancy was a time reserved for bewilderment and frustration ("Why is he/she crying now?!"), and adding in random and unpredictable trips to the bathroom to prop my head-bobbing child on a potty seat just wasn't going to happen. I am certain I would have let them tumble into the toilet. I know these things about myself.

Our goal has been to potty train the kids before two hits - that momentous occasion when children decide that everything their parents have ever wanted them to do was the most ridiculous idea they've ever heard, a phase that lasts approximately until the children have children. Elvis will be two in August, and we have many a vacation and road trip and wedding to attend in the next few months, so it was now or never.

There have been many marshmallows promised in exchange for pee. Bribery is not a tactic of which I am proud, but sometimes you have no choice - half a marshmallow for pee, a whole marshmallow for poop. The kid will have diabetes by the time he is three. The first time our son finally peed on the potty, it took him ten minutes of sitting there, resisting sitting there, and then being somewhat pinned to the potty seat by mean old Mom, but once E succumbed, crying, to having to pee on the seat, there was much rejoicing. I think I screamed. Hooray, Elvis! Great job little man! Elvis peed on the potty! Weeee! Lots of this sort of thing.

The first go-around is the hardest - breaking down the fear and confusion, dissolving the idea that pee and poop in the pants is the way we've always done it, what's wrong with it, what's the big deal - these are the barriers that must be overcome. Much like any bad habit or sin, the first phase is denial - there's nothing wrong with what I'm doing. And then we move into grief - mourning the fact that I have to give up the ability to go whenever I want, however I want... even though it stinks, literally. Later, there's repentance - okay, okay, I get it, it would be better for you and me if I did things your way. And finally, reward - we begin to see the benefits and advantages of doing things God's way... or the big boy way, in Elvis's case.

And it appears as if we have arrived. Tonight, Elvis pooped in the potty for the first time, ever. A momentous occasion - one wildly celebrated by everyone in the house. Marshmallows for everyone!

Shopping with Children

I used to enjoy taking my kids shopping... when they were constrained to a shopping cart and infant carrier. Today, however, my kids are three and almost-but-might-as-well-be two, and shopping expeditions as a family only resemble fun if you like reshelving women's underwear and catching Fiesta dinnerware before it hits the tiles (why do they choose not to carpet the dinnerware section?). The kids want to touch everything, and more than that, they want to carry everything shiny and breakable around the store.

In spite of prior knowledge, the kids and I ventured out to Kohl's this evening to do some shopping. I had visions of obedient children dancing (choreographically) in my head and thought with a smile, what fun this will be! An evening out with the kids! And afterwards, we can go to McDonalds and ride home singing to VeggieTales. On top of the fact that I should know better, I had made a list - one of those powerful tools to conquer as much in one trip as possible. We are in wedding/baby/birthday/beach season, so I had a doozy of a list, and surprise surprise, most of what I wanted to buy was in the kitchen section.

I don't know what possessed me to conceive that this would be a good idea - three bridal shower lists in hand, I bravely herded my children through the aisles, adjusting detached mannequin limbs along the way. I am a fool - Proverbs 26 describes us (mostly me) - "As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool returns to his folly." Why do we do the things we know we will regret later?

Weary-eyed, impatient, and dangling an angry toddler by the waist, we paraded most of the merchandise on the trusty list to the front of the store for check-out, me running through the eternal battle of "Do I really need two strapless bras, buy one get one half off?" and "I wonder if I could make it back to kitchenware to pick up one more bridal shower gift." Insanity, I know.

We made it out of the store, with me almost breaking the Fiestaware, all by myself this time. As I loaded the kids and my bags, it dawned on me that I will be back at the shopping center for a dress fitting, alone, this coming Saturday. Silly mommy.