Tags
angry words, emotions, Lessons learned, memories, Parenting, truth
I think the first child’s antics are more surprising because young parents have no idea! No. Idea. At that stage, we haven’t even counted as high as the number of emotions, trials, and tests we’re about to encounter. Everything your first baby says and does is amazing and funny because, hey, you haven’t heard it before. And no matter how many others do the same things, you still laugh, because it really is funny! I never get tired of remembering ours, and hearing about others’ memories as well. While remembering the cute things kids have done and said is heart warming and good, I wonder if I am the only one who may once in a while, find those memories followed by an unpleasantness that doesn’t belong there. I’ll explain later.
Our son was our first born, surprising us one evening with an early labor, in breech position, arriving at 9:20 PM. He has been a late nighter ever since, and a late riser as well, so the sun was always up before he was. Even still, the bed and breakfast were about all he wanted of the house. As soon as he was tall enough to see out the window, he checked the weather first, and then would report to me, “It’s a shine-shiny day out, Mama!” Interpretation: I want to go outside. See, what this kid knew was that the indirect approach worked so much better that the direct. A bedtime fighter, he found any excuse he could to resist bedtime routine. I had to pin him to the floor to brush his teeth, while he sputtered, “But my lips are reflexive!”, followed by “I wanna watch Gonny Cawson (Johnny Carson)! As if! When he wanted to go fishing a few years later, rather than beg to go, he tied a construction paper fish to a stick and held it out the door as I was coming inside. Written on it was “I got an itchin’ to go fishin’!” Sly little dude. Next came fifth grade, with Mrs. Pittman’s rule of ‘no locker opens after class starts’…did I mention he procrastinated other things as well as bedtime? To see Dora Pittman tell this is quite funny, as she slides one arm slowly back, leaning ever so slyly toward an imaginary locker to retrieve a book that should have been out of there before the bell rang! Some 30 years later, she still calls him her ‘locker boy’.
Yes, memories are fun…but sometimes it gets painful. There’s a little black-caped masked demon about an inch tall that occasionally comes slinking into the picture of a good memory, and it’s name is Regret. I hate that imp! He messes with my mind, and if I give him any attention, he starts growing until he is bigger than the picture. That’s the unpleasantness I was referring to earlier. I’m guessing there is a trigger for almost anyone to be reminded of their failures, for we all have some sort of regrets I’ve been told. For me, the trigger is remembering my kids’ childhood which makes me ask, why is such an awesome responsibility placed into the hands of the inexperienced?? Now, I know most of you were nauseatingly good, patient, creative parents; I mistakenly thought I was at the time. Let me just cut through the chase and bare my blisters: CHILDREN WERE NOT MADE TO BE YELLED AT. There. That is my regret. I grasped at the details and missed the big beautiful picture. Math problems, tooth brushing and choosing which toy to take, should never be a source of pain or anxiety. These everyday life things can create havoc, or heaven. The things that we think must be done should never override patience and gentleness. I was given the most precious gifts on earth, and I let them and the Giver down when I lost control and yelled. Mamas and Daddies, no one else would tolerate our ill tempered yelling, so why dish it out on the very ones who love and trust us to be their Rock? Seriously, they need more good memories, not more math; calm evenings more than clean teeth; and the time it took to choose which truck to take with him could have been spent planning supper, or tickling him into a decision. I wonder how many times he was about to make a choice when I again, called “would you come on now!” Oh how that dastardly bandit Regret can run off with your fun! But, God is good, and has forgiven me. My children say there’s nothing to forgive or forget; they say they had a great childhood. The problem lies within where forgiveness does not come easily for ourselves. I’m working on it, but I still hate those angry words that messed up good days.
“If a person thinks himself to be religious and does not bridle his own tongue, but deceives his own heart, his religion is useless.” (James 1:26)
Lest I leave the impression that I was a total monster, I do have a memory of handling things well. This son of ours has an artist streak in him that was once used on the refrigerator, in crayon. I actually had a roll of film in the Kodak, and it makes a cute photo when a toddler is cleaning the refrigerator in his training pants. I think he was as proud of his job of removing the masterpiece as he was of making it.
Happy Monday, stay calm, and make it a nice day! Go ahead and sneak a few M&Ms:)
Trisha's Coffee Break 