I’m all for discipline. In a world that’s gone soft on some issues (like telling kids “no”), but far too harsh on others (like the lack of patience at a red light), I am completely in favor of making children listen to reason. After all, we are raising the future generation. It’s up to us to instill morals, model compassion, and correct erroneous behavior for a productive future for them. I mean, if kids think they can always win, get their way every time, and throw a fit when they are opposed, then they’re going to be in a world of hurt one day. Yep, you have to create an environment where they understand they’re not number one, yet still let them know they matter. There are so many lessons to be learned, but sadly we often miss the most important one.
As a mother of young children, I think nothing tries your patience like trying to get out of the house on time with your kids in tow. They move like molasses, whine like a broken down washing machine, and couldn’t find their shoes if you were paying them to. Make it a Sunday morning and it’s even worse. Like, can we just make it to church on time once?!
This past Sunday morning I was doing my usual routine. I had gotten up before everyone else. I had picked out each child’s clothing and placed them in neat piles on the couch. All they had to do was comply with simple instruction, basically. As I assisted my youngest two daughters with getting dressed and untangling their long tresses, I noticed my eight-year-old had fallen back asleep on the couch. I called her name, asking her to get dressed. I even added a please. I deserve some extra credit for that.
Then she pulled out the whine, like nails on a chalkboard. She lamented, “I don’t wanna go to church!”
My first thought was all the mornings I rose before 5am, while my daughter snoozed on. They were homeschooled! It’s not like they had to get up earlier than they wanted every day of the week. It was just one day! Instructing my child of all of this sat on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell her how lucky she was to not have to get up as early as I did. I needed her to understand that one day she wouldn’t be so lucky, that she needed to get used to doing things she didn’t feel like doing! I wanted to tell her that she should have gone to bed earlier, that she was reaping the effects of her own stubborn refusal to go to sleep. This was my job as a parent, right.?! To prepare her for a cruel future!
So, with all this in mind I called her over to me.
“Come over here,” I instructed.
She plodded lazily in my direction, and as she got closer I reached for her lanky arm and pulled her quickly into my lap.
“My sweet baby,” I whispered, as I squeezed her gently, placing loving kisses on her forehead.
