Thoughts on Parenting

I’ve been thinking about parenting.  

This weekend I asked one of the kids to do a chore. They were in a really bad mood and feeling overwhelmed with things they needed to do and so they told me, bluntly, that they were not going to do the chore. I was shocked. My kids do not say no to me. Not because I’m a harsh disciplinarian, but simply because we established when they were little that if your parents ask you to do a task, you do it. I pointed out to them that if they did not do it, it meant that someone else in the family was going to have to pick up their work. They did not budge. I walked away. 

I was really angry. But also confused as this is a good kid who is always willing to do their part and usually doesn’t even grumble about their chores. 

Now, in the past, the way I dealt with this was more lecturing, arguing, and then taking away some kind of privilege, like a phone, device, or screen time. The end result being that the task still didn’t get done and now my kid was just as angry as I was. Or maybe they did the task while screaming and fussing the entire time and then we all stayed mad for several days. 

But this time I took myself away from the situation. Talked to my husband. We both agreed this was unusual behavior. And I acknowledged that I could understand why they were feeling overwhelmed with the other tasks they had to do as well.  In the end I did nothing. My husband did the chore and my younger daughter helped him. My child finally calmed down from their bad mood and entered into some conversation with me. 

Now, I am still miffed that they said no. I plan to have further conversations where I can explain that I am always willing to listen to them if they’re unable to do something I’ve asked them to do, but we need to have a conversation about it that stays respectful.  If they had stopped and said, Mom, I’ve got a school project that I’m really stressed about and I have all these things I have to do to get ready for Monday, can someone else do the chore? Then we could have had a conversation about it and that would be a respectful way to handle it. And for my part, I need to be willing to take things into consideration when my child respectfully asks for a reprieve.  

In the past I would have been very concerned about my child disrespecting me and not being obedient and I would have responded harshly.  Now, by God’s grace, I’m a lot more concerned with how my child is doing, as a person. If they are acting out in some way, I want to know why, and what can we do to fix it? Maybe they are being selfish. Maybe they are being disrespectful. Maybe they are tired or overwhelmed. If it’s selfishness, let’s try to help them see other people and their needs and not just themselves and their own needs. If they’re being disrespectful, let’s talk about respect for adults, parents, other humans, and set firm boundaries in these areas. If they are tired, let’s teach them how to recognize that in themselves and learn the habit of getting alone and resting, instead of sticking around to argue over every little thing. If they’re overwhelmed, let’s teach them how to recognize that for what it is, and then get some help from a parent or someone else who can help them get caught up or organize their time. 

I remember when I first started parenting, all the books and classes on parenting that were so popular. And they all hammered into you exactly what a good parent was supposed to do. And if your child did not sleep through the night at 2 months old, did not practice first time obedience, threw tantrums in public, etc, then that meant that you were a failure as a parent. And I really absorbed that. When my kids misbehaved, it meant that I was failing. And that put a lot of pressure on me which I then transferred to my kids. Not a great atmosphere.

A million failures later, I think I’ve mostly learned to let go of that idea that I have to be a perfect parent and that my children’s behavior is a reflection of my worth. I am trying to see my kids as the little humans that they are, who are just as sinful and ornery as I am and need just as much grace and compassion as I do. And who need as much constant help, direction, and encouragement as I do. I still fail regularly, but I think my house is a lot more peaceful and my kids a lot less stressed than when I first started on this parenting journey.

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Motherhood Brings out the Worst in Me

It’s been a day.  

I was in the middle of a confrontation with a melting-down child. I was seconds from physically removing said child and taking them to a quiet location where they could get calm without an audience…and then another child decided to come and stand right between us and start playing her recorder as loud as she could. And for a moment I felt frozen in time as I watched sheer ridiculousness unfold before my eyes. Several choice comments jumped in my mind and I may have muttered some of them at a slightly audible level. 

A couple hours later I asked the kids to clean their zones. The child of Recorder Fame pitched a fit and caterwauled the entire time she was cleaning. She sounded like a dying cat…I just might have mentioned that to her. 

Another, younger child, escaped the house without doing their cleaning. I chased them down, and when they responded that their zone WAS clean, I proceeded to point out, in sarcastic detail, the ten things that they had failed to clean. 

Earlier in the day, the kindergartner would not do his reading. So, I made him get in the car with me when I went to pick up kids from public school, and he had to sit there for the thirty minutes wait and read his book out loud so I could hear him. And I might have done a this-is-your-own-fault, when he complained about being bored. 

This morning, I had this random thought…I know God loves me, but does he Like me? 

At the end of days like today, I kind of feel like a not-so-nice person. I’ve yelled, been sarcastic, made a lot of kids unhappy with my expectations of them. I am not currently the hero of the hour. I am about to sit down to supper where I will be the bad guy who makes everyone eat vegetables. And then, I’m going to make kids do homework. And I’m not going to let them watch tv tonight. And then, they will all have to go to bed at bedtime…and brush their teeth. I will, in fact, win no popularity points tonight as I parent my brood. Though they still will all want me to hug and kiss them goodnight.

Being a mom sometimes just feels like it’s me at my worst. 

The mean me. 

The strict me. 

It’s hard to feel like a lovable, nice, person when you’ve just physically carried a screaming seven year old up the stairs to their room because they need to be in a quiet place to calm down. It’s hard to feel like a nice person when you’re dishing out the table chores after the meal and no one wants to be the one who has to sweep the floor, but you assign it anyway, cause you don’t want to sweep either. 

Maybe being a mom is so hard because it really brings out the worst in us. Our kids strip away all our pretensions of being sweet and patient, and instead show the real us. Someone who has some temper problems. Someone whose patience has real limitations. Someone who makes mistakes often. Someone who struggles to put others first. 

As I think about this, maybe God especially likes me in the role of mother. It keeps me honest and humble. No fake Esther pretending to be pure and holy. Instead it’s me: dirty, weary, spending half the day asking for forgiveness as I try again to be patient. Try again to see things from the child’s point of view and not just my own. Try again to not be cutting with my words. Try again to have grace. 

Me at my worst, is actually just me at my most real. And being real is what God wants from us. So, I guess I’m actually in a pretty good place. 

Fat Fridays: Week 19 Why Am I Doing This?

Hello Everyone…How’s your week been? I hope it’s been a bit better than mine. We’ve been struggling with a horrible virus this week that’s really wiped out our little kids. But, there is hope. Our littlest guy seems to be feeling better this morning, and the older kids who got the virus seem to be getting over it quickly. I’m sitting in bed feeling kind of yucky myself, but hoping that this will be done and over with by tomorrow.

So, the past couple days I’ve been thinking about goals and dreams. I heard once, years ago, that if you really want something, have a big goal, you’ve got to think about it often, daydream about it, focus on it. The more thought life you give towards your dream, the more likely you will continue to pursue it and see it become reality. So, here’s my dream: to lose 110 pounds and go from a size 20 to a size 10. I think about it a lot. It’s helpful when I’m really stressed out and want to reach for something sugary and then I remember, size 10. You’re not going to get to a size 10 if you eat that stuff. Anyway, you get the idea.

This week as I’ve been reading the news, seeing reports of the terrorist attack on Christians in Sri Lanka, seeing how villages have been wiped out by a cyclone on the coast of Africa, see how activists are trying to fight against crazy man-made natural disasters, see how many problems there are with our foster care system…When I see all these things, and then I think about my goal, I feel rather shallow, and selfish. Here I am focusing all my energy on losing weight while out in the world people are facing Real Problems. Yeah, this is definitely a first-world problem I’m dealing with here.

So, I’ve been thinking about this, and I came to some conclusions. Why is it so important for me to lose weight? Right now my extra weight is keeping me from living a lot of life. My husband loves to bike and go hiking. I don’t go with him. I can’t keep up. And that makes both of us a bit sad. I want to lose weight so I can share experiences with my husband again. Skinnier me used to go out in the yard and play Capture the Flag with my children, and jump rope, and tag, and running games. I haven’t done that in a long time. I want to lose weight so I can play with my children again. My older children have gone on an inner-city missions trip to Buffalo, New York for three years in a row now. This summer one of my sons launched a campaign to get me to go on the mission trip too. I thought about how busy they are on their trip, how physically toiling it is. I know that right now, in my current shape, I would be exhausted and uncomfortable most of the time. I told him I couldn’t go this year. I want to lose weight so I can take part in mission trips, actually engage in some physically hard work in order to help people. My overweight me is looking at Type 2 Diabetes and too-high cholesterol. I want to lose weight so I don’t spend the rest of my life sick. I’ve been learning about how inflammation in the body can aggravate mental health issues, like depression. I want to stick to this diet so that I can hopefully lessen my episodes of depression. I want to lose this weight so I can be me again.

I guess my goal isn’t so bad after all. Kind of like the instructions: put the oxygen mask on first, then help those around you. First things first. Lose the weight. Then I can engage in life and all it’s challenges and problems with a lot more stamina and ability to help.

Onward with my goal.

This week, things that have gone well and not so well…I tried a couple new dishes. I found at Kroger a Coconut Curry Mix that had a big bag of fresh vegetables to stir fry and then a curry sauce to pour over it. It was only $5 for the bag which seemed like a good deal to me. Tasted pretty good too. I also bought a jar of Tikka Masala sauce at Aldi’s then poured it over a big pot of cooked potatoes/sweet potatoes and fresh green beans and a can of beans. That was really yummy too. My only problem is that everything I cook tends to look like a pile of mush. It doesn’t help anything when I offer my fare to the family, Here, it’s vegan, want to try some? They stare at the glop. No thanks mom. I also tried cooking a rice blend for the family that had brown rice, red rice, and wild rice. It was really good, but unfamiliar to my white-rice-loving family. They didn’t eat very much of it. Sigh.

Exercise didn’t happen. Dealing with a household of sick children severely limits your time. I’m not going to feel guilty about that.

Goals: recover from this virus. Yep. That’s about it. Since I started writing this blog today, my fever has spiked, I”m aching all over and feel like a truck ran over me. Good news, I don’t want to eat anything. At least I won’t be tempted to cheat.

See you all next week, hopefully in much better health.