If you ever wondered what joy looked like, a girl with a new trail-a-bike that she's riding behind her beloved Dada will give you a hint...
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Friends
We had friends over for dinner. Since we have two kids 3 & under and they have 3 kids 4 & under, the evening began around 3 and ended around 6:45. But you know what? It was great to see them. It was great to visit with another family that has the same values, similar struggles, similar senses of humor. Also, the dad of the family likes to drink scotch, which my husband also likes. I think it smells like turpentine, so Michael enjoyed drinking a bit of scotch with his buddy. I enjoyed swapping non-dairy, eggless recipes with the mom, since we both have kids with allergies and sensitivities. It was a very pleasant evening, and a good reminder as to why God wants us to gather in community. It's good for us.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Forgiveness
I was chatting with our mail carrier yesterday (okay, that sounds like a post that should begin around 1950...but our street is like that, everyone knows everyone, including the mail carrier), and she was talking to me about a difficulty she was having with her 5 1/2 year old son. She'd had to discipline him over the phone earlier in the day (her husband had made him call his mom and tell him he'd done something she had *specifically* and *clearly* told him not to do), and was wondering if she should be annoyed with him when she picked him up. Well, not whether she should be annoyed, but whether she should act annoyed.
And I had the strangest sensation. I had the sensation of *just* having learned something that seemed to work very well and having the opportunity to pass it along.
Because I'm sure I would have, several months ago, and perhaps even now, on not-so-good days, held that grudge. I would have remained annoyed. I probably wouldn't have said it was a good idea, and I probably wouldn't have told anyone else to, but I might not have had an answer as to what I would do instead. Since I would have held the grudge.
God's grace and mercy are getting to me, though, since I recently discovered the very useful and effective technique of disciplining without rancor. Thanks to Dr. Ray Guarendi, in the book You're a Better Parent than you Think. It turns out I'm not really, but the way. :)
At any rate, Dr. Ray's point in the section that turned on a light bulb for me was that your child, once he or she is being disciplined, may throw caution and good behavior to the wind in an attempt to get back into control of the situation. Their idea seems to be, "Well, she's mad, and I'm in trouble. But I bet I can make her more mad. I bet I can make her face turn red. I bet I can make her holler. Can I make her holler louder than last time? Let's see."
The light turning on was almost blinding. I needed to stop engaging with the bad behavior, disciplining what came along and going on with life. The theory seemed so simple. It's pretty difficult to do at times, but the theory is itself is very straight forward -- discipline the behavior that comes along, as it comes along.
What do you know, it works! So I told my mail carrier, " When he asks to have the thing you told him he can't have as his discipline, then remind him why. Otherwise, go on with your life."
Later I realized that this is a much more godly way of disciplining than anything I'd tried before. Forgiveness, without strings. Sure, there are consequences, but God doesn't sit up there blasting lightning at us because we annoyed him.
And boy, is that a good thing for me!
And I had the strangest sensation. I had the sensation of *just* having learned something that seemed to work very well and having the opportunity to pass it along.
Because I'm sure I would have, several months ago, and perhaps even now, on not-so-good days, held that grudge. I would have remained annoyed. I probably wouldn't have said it was a good idea, and I probably wouldn't have told anyone else to, but I might not have had an answer as to what I would do instead. Since I would have held the grudge.
God's grace and mercy are getting to me, though, since I recently discovered the very useful and effective technique of disciplining without rancor. Thanks to Dr. Ray Guarendi, in the book You're a Better Parent than you Think. It turns out I'm not really, but the way. :)
At any rate, Dr. Ray's point in the section that turned on a light bulb for me was that your child, once he or she is being disciplined, may throw caution and good behavior to the wind in an attempt to get back into control of the situation. Their idea seems to be, "Well, she's mad, and I'm in trouble. But I bet I can make her more mad. I bet I can make her face turn red. I bet I can make her holler. Can I make her holler louder than last time? Let's see."
The light turning on was almost blinding. I needed to stop engaging with the bad behavior, disciplining what came along and going on with life. The theory seemed so simple. It's pretty difficult to do at times, but the theory is itself is very straight forward -- discipline the behavior that comes along, as it comes along.
What do you know, it works! So I told my mail carrier, " When he asks to have the thing you told him he can't have as his discipline, then remind him why. Otherwise, go on with your life."
Later I realized that this is a much more godly way of disciplining than anything I'd tried before. Forgiveness, without strings. Sure, there are consequences, but God doesn't sit up there blasting lightning at us because we annoyed him.
And boy, is that a good thing for me!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Sweatshirt virtues
I used to think I was patient. Back before I had kids. I'd put up with an annoying or difficult situation and congratulate myself on how patient I was.
Then I had a baby. She was a high needs baby. I like to illustrate this by telling the story of one day when Michael, my husband, was holding her. She was happy and content, for once. After a time, he announced, "I have to go to the bathroom." I looked at him in horror: "Are you sure you can't hold it?" Believe me, I had never asked my husband if he could hold it before, but she was the type of baby that you didn't disturb unless *absolutely* necessary.
One of the many things I learned from Hannah was that I am not patient. Sure, I had dealt with situations in a patient manner before, but the virtue of patience was not a part of me. I had the patience sweatshirt. Like a sweatshirt, I would put on patience when I thought it was necessary, then take it off, fold it carefully, and put it away when I didn't need it any more. The problem with sweatshirts is that they are not an integral part of you. You can't have them one magically in the middle of the night if you suddenly need them when your baby wakes up for the 47th time and is screaming again.
So I came to realize that I am not patient. The patience sweatshirt was only useful to a point, but my major field of study in the first year of attendance at the School of Virtue (at least, my first year with my daughter as the professor) was patience. Or perhaps it was a double major: patience and selflessness.
Now I'm getting better, praise God!, and I can certainly recognize points in my dealings with my second daughter that would have sent me over the edge with the first, but seem not to affect me as strongly this time around. But patience is still not an integral part of me, since I still sometimes grumble and growl and occasionally roar when awakened from a dead sleep to deal with wee ones who are screaming.
So I imagine that I'll continue to take many courses in patience at school. God help me! And of course, He will.
Then I had a baby. She was a high needs baby. I like to illustrate this by telling the story of one day when Michael, my husband, was holding her. She was happy and content, for once. After a time, he announced, "I have to go to the bathroom." I looked at him in horror: "Are you sure you can't hold it?" Believe me, I had never asked my husband if he could hold it before, but she was the type of baby that you didn't disturb unless *absolutely* necessary.
One of the many things I learned from Hannah was that I am not patient. Sure, I had dealt with situations in a patient manner before, but the virtue of patience was not a part of me. I had the patience sweatshirt. Like a sweatshirt, I would put on patience when I thought it was necessary, then take it off, fold it carefully, and put it away when I didn't need it any more. The problem with sweatshirts is that they are not an integral part of you. You can't have them one magically in the middle of the night if you suddenly need them when your baby wakes up for the 47th time and is screaming again.
So I came to realize that I am not patient. The patience sweatshirt was only useful to a point, but my major field of study in the first year of attendance at the School of Virtue (at least, my first year with my daughter as the professor) was patience. Or perhaps it was a double major: patience and selflessness.
Now I'm getting better, praise God!, and I can certainly recognize points in my dealings with my second daughter that would have sent me over the edge with the first, but seem not to affect me as strongly this time around. But patience is still not an integral part of me, since I still sometimes grumble and growl and occasionally roar when awakened from a dead sleep to deal with wee ones who are screaming.
So I imagine that I'll continue to take many courses in patience at school. God help me! And of course, He will.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
No Spring Break for the School of Virtue
Today, my three-and-a-half-year old said, "I'm ready for Spring Break."
I looked at her, paging through a library book. What *exactly* does she need a break from?
I looked at her, paging through a library book. What *exactly* does she need a break from?
Easy virtue
It's always so much easier to tell other people how to be virtuous than to do it ourselves. I noticed this this morning when I was chatting with one of my sisters. She was struggling, I suggested something. I could totally understand her situation, it's one that I have faced often. Was my suggestion the virtuous thing that I usually do when faced with the situation? No, it was the virtuous thing that I suddenly realize I *should* have done several days after the situation has passed.
I suppose this is a good reminder to keep working during Lent. I would LOVE for my first reaction to be the most virtuous one -- I guess that's a good working definition of sainthood. But it's not usually my first, or second, or third thought. For instance, when my daughters conspired to spend their time at bedtime A. screaming and B. taking 30-45 minutes for me to put to sleep while I was visiting family recently, did I thank God for the challenge and for the gift of the children? Did I realize how wonderful it was that I got the opportunity to grow in virtue? Did I go through with bedtime inwardly whining and snivelling about how unfair it all was and having a self-pity party? Sigh. It's going to be a long trip to sainthood.
I suppose this is a good reminder to keep working during Lent. I would LOVE for my first reaction to be the most virtuous one -- I guess that's a good working definition of sainthood. But it's not usually my first, or second, or third thought. For instance, when my daughters conspired to spend their time at bedtime A. screaming and B. taking 30-45 minutes for me to put to sleep while I was visiting family recently, did I thank God for the challenge and for the gift of the children? Did I realize how wonderful it was that I got the opportunity to grow in virtue? Did I go through with bedtime inwardly whining and snivelling about how unfair it all was and having a self-pity party? Sigh. It's going to be a long trip to sainthood.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Perspective
isn't technically a virtue, but is very useful, especially when one is trying to live the Christian life. For instance, suppose your 1-year-old is busy working on giving up her morning naps (a bit too soon), and one day takes 30 minutes to go down for a 20-minute nap, and the following day goes right to sleep, sleeps 20 minutes, then gets up and is cranky for the next 3 hours, it's easy to get discouraged. It's easy to remind yourself of the white martyrdom that many Christians are called to face. It's easy to begin to fall into self-pity. Which is neither a virtue, nor useful. If, at this point in your life, you happen upon the story of someone whose child died tragically...well, you get a little perspective, and your white martyrdom looks a bit less like martyrdom and a bit more like you're one *very* lucky person with your two (so far) lovely kids. Even if one of them doesn't go to sleep too easily right now.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Humility
...is not my favorite virtue. Mainly because it's hard to learn and hard to practice. And just plain hard. However, in the interest of humility, I will admit that I often get more angry at my kids than is good for me or them. I found this book helpful: She's Gonna Blow, by Julie Ann Barnhill. It's from a Christian perspective and it's written by a mom, for moms. It's been quite helpful to me, and not just because I'm relieved that I don't have the problems that some of the moms in there have to deal with.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
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