I was a sneaky child. Not just a little sneaky...but really sneaky. Stealing candy when I was six might have been cute, but my sneaky ways turned into anything but cute when I was in high school. If I had a problem...if I made a mistake...if I did anything that I wasn’t proud of, I hid it. I stole report cards out of the mail to hide bad grades. I let my teeth get crooked because I was too scared to tell my parents I lost my retainer. And I once got a stain on my mom’s sweater, so I proceeded to bleach it and then tried to paint...yes, PAINT...the bleach spot to cover it up. Obviously, I wasn’t forthcoming with incriminating evidence against myself. I lived in fear of my mistakes.
So as a mother, I am well aware of the tendency of kids to want to hide the mistakes they make. Whether the mistakes are deliberate or accidental, no kid really wants mom and dad to know. No child really wants to admit to their parents that they made a mistake. They fall down and don’t know what to do about it. They break something and don’t know who to tell. However, we as parents need to know when these mistakes occur...it’s part of the job. The job is is not to never allow them to fall, but rather, to teach them how to pick themselves up once they have fallen. This is true whether it means they fall off a bike or they do something stupid like spill spaghetti sauce on their mom’s favorite sweater. We all make mistakes and as parents, we need to teach our children how to handle them.
Because of my sneaky ways, I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about how I can get my kids to be open with me...about their successes and their failures. I had my first chance to test out my plans when Alaina was just three and decided to cut her princess dress to pieces. I remember it as being my first real parenting moment...going beyond caring for basic needs like food, shelter, and safety and moving into a real heart issue. I knew that my reaction to her disobedience could set the tone for future problems. I came out of that incident thankful that God’s grace was able to flow through me as I talked with my daughter.
Since that time, I have had a number of other incidents that warranted incredible intentional parenting in the face of child-made mistakes. Thankfully, the experiences have been few and far between (two involved Alaina cutting her own hair!) and most of the time I can say that our family and home are relatively free of major chaotic events.
However...
Today I had my first moment with my sweet Levi. My little curly haired, dimple faced, three year old. This kid just melts my heart in a way I can’t express. He is the family comedian and tries his hardest -- and usually succeeds -- at making people laugh. Our little joke is to call him “trouble” because one time I told him he was trouble (in a totally jesting voice) and he responded with, “I’m not trouble, I’m just having FUN!” And usually, his trouble making ways really are fun. They are never meant to do anything but get a laugh out of anyone around. But today...well, today was a little different.
It was about 3:30 and I was getting dinner started. Jason, Alaina, and Caleb were coming home on the motorbike and Katie was playing in the yard. From the kitchen I heard Levi crying and screaming. We’ve talked numerous times about the need for him to use words to express his frustrations instead of just crying and and as I was about to go find him and have the conversation yet again, he came into the kitchen carrying a wad of soaking wet toilet paper. When I asked him what was wrong he just kept saying with a frantic look on his face, “I don’t know what to do! I just don’t know what to do!” Curious as to what could make him so upset, I asked him what happened. He just said, “I don’t know how to make the toilet paper go down!” Not fully understanding his problem, I followed him into the bathroom where I saw the toilet filled to the brim with a TP/water mixture and the floor was soaking wet (thankfully...so thankfully, the water was clean!) I then asked Levi if he stuffed toilet paper in the toilet. He said yes. When I asked why, he said in a way only Levi can, “Because I got almost ALL of it to fit!”
Stifling my giggles, I had a choice to make. I could see that Levi was being mischievous and naughty. I could see that he now had interrupted getting dinner prepared as I had to deal with a plugged toilet and the sopping wet floor. I could get mad and get frustrated and tell him how he did wrong. Or...
I could do what I would have wanted as a kid...what I want now when I make a mistake. Since there was no imminent danger, I ignored the mess momentarily while I pulled my sweet little boy on my lap. As he faced me and looked at me with his blond curls sweeping into his eyes, I told him that I loved him. I told asked him a now familiar question: “Levi, what do you do when you have a problem.” Hesitantly, he responded with the well-rehearsed answer: “Go get Mommy or Daddy.” “That’s right,” I said. “When you have a problem, you come get Mommy or Daddy. You don’t have to solve the problem all by yourself. That’s why you have a Mommy and Daddy -- to help you when you have a problem. See, we’re bigger than you and we know how to solve problems that you don’t. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me you messed up. Did you know that we all makes mistakes? And the important thing is that we learn what to do when we mess up. And for you, that is to tell a big person that you made a mistake and you need help fixing it.” We then talked about what he did and why it was a bad decision. We talked about how toilets and toilet paper are only for going to the bathroom. We talked about making good decisions and asking Mom and Dad before doing something you aren’t sure about.” All in all though, I spent little time on what he did wrong and lots of time on how I loved him and that I was there to help him solve his problems and to be there when he made a mistake.
I then showed him the magical powers of a plunger and I laughed as I saw the astonished expression on his face when he exclaimed, “You made it all go down!” We then cleaned up the floor, washed our hands, and chalked it up to a lesson learned.
As much as I hope he learned a good lesson and never stuffs toilet paper down the toilet again, even more, I hope that he learned the lesson -- from my words and my actions -- that when he has a problem he can come to me. I want him to fully know and understand that no matter what he does, it will not change my love for him. I never want my kids to be afraid to tell me when they have made a mistake. I want them to learn the process of dealing with the mistakes that we will all inevitably make. My job as a mother is not to ensure they never fall down -- physically or metaphorically. Rather, my job is to teach them that when they do fall down, there are people there to help them get up and teach them how not to fall again. Discipline may be involved in that process, but it is a discipline that grows out of love and compassion rather than frustration and anger.
Any parenting 101 book would tell us that one of the most important things we can do as a parent is to act, not react. Our words and actions towards our children should be intentional, well-chosen, and grace-filled. If we let circumstances dictate our words and if we raise our voices and punish for every act of mischievousness, we risk losing the hearts and confessions of our kids. If God were standing over me, ready to pounce on every mistake I make (and there are many!) I would never want to come to Him. But when I know his loving arms are ready to reach down and He is ready to discipline me in love, then I am eager to pour out my shortcomings before Him and to wait anxiously for His love and grace to fill up what is lacking in my wisdom. He is there to pick me up, to help my solve my problems, and to help ensure that I don’t make the same mistakes again. And that is the picture of love that I want to give my children.
It’s all in the response, and in my ever-so-flawed way, I am working to ensure that my responses to my children are filled with the same love and compassion that God has for me.
Because of my sneaky ways, I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about how I can get my kids to be open with me...about their successes and their failures. I had my first chance to test out my plans when Alaina was just three and decided to cut her princess dress to pieces. I remember it as being my first real parenting moment...going beyond caring for basic needs like food, shelter, and safety and moving into a real heart issue. I knew that my reaction to her disobedience could set the tone for future problems. I came out of that incident thankful that God’s grace was able to flow through me as I talked with my daughter.
Since that time, I have had a number of other incidents that warranted incredible intentional parenting in the face of child-made mistakes. Thankfully, the experiences have been few and far between (two involved Alaina cutting her own hair!) and most of the time I can say that our family and home are relatively free of major chaotic events.
However...
Today I had my first moment with my sweet Levi. My little curly haired, dimple faced, three year old. This kid just melts my heart in a way I can’t express. He is the family comedian and tries his hardest -- and usually succeeds -- at making people laugh. Our little joke is to call him “trouble” because one time I told him he was trouble (in a totally jesting voice) and he responded with, “I’m not trouble, I’m just having FUN!” And usually, his trouble making ways really are fun. They are never meant to do anything but get a laugh out of anyone around. But today...well, today was a little different.
It was about 3:30 and I was getting dinner started. Jason, Alaina, and Caleb were coming home on the motorbike and Katie was playing in the yard. From the kitchen I heard Levi crying and screaming. We’ve talked numerous times about the need for him to use words to express his frustrations instead of just crying and and as I was about to go find him and have the conversation yet again, he came into the kitchen carrying a wad of soaking wet toilet paper. When I asked him what was wrong he just kept saying with a frantic look on his face, “I don’t know what to do! I just don’t know what to do!” Curious as to what could make him so upset, I asked him what happened. He just said, “I don’t know how to make the toilet paper go down!” Not fully understanding his problem, I followed him into the bathroom where I saw the toilet filled to the brim with a TP/water mixture and the floor was soaking wet (thankfully...so thankfully, the water was clean!) I then asked Levi if he stuffed toilet paper in the toilet. He said yes. When I asked why, he said in a way only Levi can, “Because I got almost ALL of it to fit!”
Stifling my giggles, I had a choice to make. I could see that Levi was being mischievous and naughty. I could see that he now had interrupted getting dinner prepared as I had to deal with a plugged toilet and the sopping wet floor. I could get mad and get frustrated and tell him how he did wrong. Or...
I could do what I would have wanted as a kid...what I want now when I make a mistake. Since there was no imminent danger, I ignored the mess momentarily while I pulled my sweet little boy on my lap. As he faced me and looked at me with his blond curls sweeping into his eyes, I told him that I loved him. I told asked him a now familiar question: “Levi, what do you do when you have a problem.” Hesitantly, he responded with the well-rehearsed answer: “Go get Mommy or Daddy.” “That’s right,” I said. “When you have a problem, you come get Mommy or Daddy. You don’t have to solve the problem all by yourself. That’s why you have a Mommy and Daddy -- to help you when you have a problem. See, we’re bigger than you and we know how to solve problems that you don’t. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me you messed up. Did you know that we all makes mistakes? And the important thing is that we learn what to do when we mess up. And for you, that is to tell a big person that you made a mistake and you need help fixing it.” We then talked about what he did and why it was a bad decision. We talked about how toilets and toilet paper are only for going to the bathroom. We talked about making good decisions and asking Mom and Dad before doing something you aren’t sure about.” All in all though, I spent little time on what he did wrong and lots of time on how I loved him and that I was there to help him solve his problems and to be there when he made a mistake.
I then showed him the magical powers of a plunger and I laughed as I saw the astonished expression on his face when he exclaimed, “You made it all go down!” We then cleaned up the floor, washed our hands, and chalked it up to a lesson learned.
As much as I hope he learned a good lesson and never stuffs toilet paper down the toilet again, even more, I hope that he learned the lesson -- from my words and my actions -- that when he has a problem he can come to me. I want him to fully know and understand that no matter what he does, it will not change my love for him. I never want my kids to be afraid to tell me when they have made a mistake. I want them to learn the process of dealing with the mistakes that we will all inevitably make. My job as a mother is not to ensure they never fall down -- physically or metaphorically. Rather, my job is to teach them that when they do fall down, there are people there to help them get up and teach them how not to fall again. Discipline may be involved in that process, but it is a discipline that grows out of love and compassion rather than frustration and anger.
Any parenting 101 book would tell us that one of the most important things we can do as a parent is to act, not react. Our words and actions towards our children should be intentional, well-chosen, and grace-filled. If we let circumstances dictate our words and if we raise our voices and punish for every act of mischievousness, we risk losing the hearts and confessions of our kids. If God were standing over me, ready to pounce on every mistake I make (and there are many!) I would never want to come to Him. But when I know his loving arms are ready to reach down and He is ready to discipline me in love, then I am eager to pour out my shortcomings before Him and to wait anxiously for His love and grace to fill up what is lacking in my wisdom. He is there to pick me up, to help my solve my problems, and to help ensure that I don’t make the same mistakes again. And that is the picture of love that I want to give my children.
It’s all in the response, and in my ever-so-flawed way, I am working to ensure that my responses to my children are filled with the same love and compassion that God has for me.
____
And the picture? Well, it's two years old but it is still my favorite picture of me and my little man. I think I need to hand the camera off to the hubby more often.
So, so true. You handled this beautifully.
Posted by: Kara | February 22, 2010 at 10:57 PM
heh, I lost my retainer, too. We've had a couple moments like yours in our house lately.
Posted by: sally | February 23, 2010 at 12:17 AM
VERY good.
I also lost my retainer... ;)
amy
Posted by: Amy | February 23, 2010 at 05:10 AM
exactly what I needed to read today :)
Posted by: jennyg | February 24, 2010 at 10:17 AM
I think you handled this beautifully. I, too, used to lie because I was so afraid of getting in trouble. I wanted to make sure that my kids weren't afraid to come to me. So, just like you, I worked at developing a relationship with them that encouraged them to tell me when they made mistakes. My kids are 16 and 14 now and I have to say that I've never had a lying problem with them. I know that we're not done yet but so far they've been very good about coming to me and telling me their mistakes. :)
Posted by: Lisa | February 25, 2010 at 05:36 AM
Stumbled upon your blog from your guest post on Justanightowl.com and I love this first post I read. As a homeschooling parent myself, it is often easy to react on the frustration of my mischevious 8yr old instead of "intentionally acting". Thanks for the reminder that her heart for honesty is more important than alittle mischief. I know this, but sometimes forget. Loook forward to reading more.
Posted by: Charisse | February 26, 2010 at 03:19 AM
Thanks so much. This was beautiful, well-written and very timely for me. I had the opposite reaction to an incident today, but I apologized and then I had a time-out too. Over-frustration is something I'm working on. Thanks for sharing this!
Posted by: Tamara | February 27, 2010 at 11:55 AM