Here’s the story on my getting perspective…
SETTING THE SCENE: Around 7:30 Saturday morning, our sleepy household pried open bleary eyes, sucked down some liquid caffeine and gathered needed items for an exciting day trip to the Raleigh, NC Natural Science Museum. This early morning start was preceded by a late night arrival of my in-laws. Our tots, of course, stayed up way past bed time to give a proper greeting.
The museum provide stimulation of all sorts. Large replicas of dinosaurs, fun buttons for bug sounds, even a butterfly conservatory. Around 3 o clock we headed home, stopping once to enjoy Burlington’s best BBQ. Afterwards I scooped up my oldest and headed to his friend’s 4th birthday party. (The day was packed.)
He cheerfully handed off the carefully picked out present- a robot. And began playing with the other kids. After a few rounds of what seemed like baseball, some yummy cupcakes, and a happy birthday song, the birthday boy opened his presents.
THE INCIDENT: All was well until two toy guns entered the scene. I’ll admit, they were cool, but so thought every kid there. After monopolizing the toy for some time, I directed my boy to hand it off to another anxiously waiting child.
That’s when it occurred. Screaming and crying and tears of torment poured from his little face. (I was mortified.) I tried my best to instill order, but this matter would only be resolved in the privacy of our own home. We- I said good bye, and drove off.
THE REALIZATION: My first instinct, “lay into him” (translation: give him the lecture of a lifetime). But I stopped, and remembered something I had recently read. The author was remarking how at a young age, he spent many nights at the dinner table without ever spilling his milk. His parents never said a word. And then one night he knocked the milk over. This got more attention than all the other nights.
Now before you jump to your feet, I’m not saying my boy didn’t deserve discipline, but I am saying I needed perspective. And so when it was administered, I started out with what a great job he did playing kindly, sharing the toys previously, enjoying the day, and obeying his mom. I let him know how proud I was and how much I loved him. And then explained the discipline. Clearly defining what the offense was, and that he was to accept the consequences like a big boy. Surprisingly, it worked. He seemed to understand, and even calmly realized the discipline was needed. (Although I’m sure he would’ve chosen differently.)
Our kids are learning how to deal with a world much larger then they are and with situations beyond their years. How many adults still have trouble with some of the basics? And so, when my boy “spills his milk”, I need to be sure I don’t throw mine across the room.
A GOOD BOOK TO READ IF YOU HAVE BOYS: Bringing Up Boys by Dr. James Dobson
For those of you with girls, I’m not there yet, but I’m sure Candice will have some more helpful insight as her little girl gets older.
