Hell Hath No Fury Like a Mom Whose Children Are Late for School

By late, I don't mean 5 or 10 minutes. That kind of late usually irritates me. Or even 15 or 20 minutes. By that time, I'm starting to get really annoyed. 30 minutes late - which has never happened before, except for the time I got stuck in the snow in the driveway - makes me quite furious.

But, oh, no no no. You have no idea what I mean when I say "late". This morning, one darling child made us thirty-eight minutes late for school. Yes, you read that right - I pulled out of the driveway 38 minutes later than I normally do. "Livid" is the only way to describe my feelings.

This particular child is the one who always makes us late. Always. But never this late. This morning, it was, "My boots are wet". So, wear your shoes. "My shoes are wet, too." Then wear your church shoes. "My church shoes are too tight, and besides I have PE today." Too bad! Wear them anyway and bring your tennis shoes and hope they dry by the time you have PE. And yes, these were her only 3 options. She is the queen of picky when it comes to shoes (and most other clothing, for that matter). I can -without exaggeration - visit 10 shoe stores in an afternoon with her, and she will still walk away empty-handed because "this one's too tight" or "this one's too loose" or "this one is too low at the heel" or "this one pinches my toes", etc. etc. etc. (And believe me, I could go on with the etc.'s, but you get the point.)

So, for 38 minutes, she chose to simply NOT put on shoes or boots. I tried to put them on her feet for her, but she kicked them off. And she's too big for me to carry her out the door. So, I fought, struggled, bribed, argued, for 38 minutes. I finally called my husband and asked him to talk to her. He did. He told her she had to wear her boots. She hung up and still refused.

I'm not sure how I finally got her into the car, but I did. We usually pray together on the way to school, but I told everyone I was far too angry to pray so they had just better be quiet on the way to school. And pray that I don't purposely run into a telephone pole.

In all seriousness, I would appreciate input on how to deal with this kind of defiance. She is our toughest kid in terms of discipline because she is never a peaceful recipient. And I realize that most kids don't enjoy punishment and probably make some fuss about receiving it. But if your kids throws a tantrum, then my kid has a thermonuclear meltdown. Yes, it's really that bad. And it's not that we don't punish her, but we have yet to find something that actually works long-term AND that doesn't threaten our hearing because of the violent screaming that results.

What was worse about this AM was that I had been up for 2 hours in the night with extremely uncomfortable indigestion, and then the coffee I made this morning was weak: Double Whammy! (I never make weak coffee! What the heck???)

Anyway, after I dropped off the kids, I drove through Tim Horton's for medicinal purposes. It's a good thing that I had let my anger cool a little, though. The way I felt when I left the house - did I mention we were 38 minutes late!!! - I could have easily screeched into the drivethrough lane and yelled, "Give me some damn coffee and no one gets hurt!" However, I was settled enough to drive in like a sane human being, which is a very good thing, since there were 4 or 5 police cars in the parking lot. (My first thought was, "what the heck is going on here?", but then I quickly realized, "Ooohh, it's a donut shop.")

So, I got my strong coffee, the best breakfast sandwich in the world, a blueberry muffin, and some OJ.

That was 2 hours ago.

I think my blood pressure is finally starting to come back down.

Pride Goes Before the Fall

My friend Essie, The Accidental Mommy just posted about her "best" parenting ideas from her life before children. And then she invited readers to do the same. So, here goes.

I ALWAYS wanted to be a Mom, and I ALWAYS wanted gobs and gobs of kids. I was the town babysitter for almost all of Daggett and Stephenson, thriving metropolises of the UP. I taught preschool for 9 years before actually becoming a mom. I attended - and even facilitated - teacher and parent training sessions. I had plenty of experience in how to handle children.

So, with all that under my belt, of course I had all the skills necessary to get my own children to obey me. I had perfected the use of the "I" message: "Jimmy, I feel concerned when you use that flame-thrower in school." I could identify the "goals of misbehavior": attention-seeking, revenge, struggle for power, feelings of helplessness, and the 5th, less-well-known goal, which is simply to be a PITA.

And as you would guess, all that training and experience came crashing down the first time my first child defied me. I had not a clue what to do. Hence, I have succeeded in getting my children to throw tantrums in public, to speak in an obscenely disprespectful manner to me, and to leave major portions of our home in a maelstrom.

However, I do believe I have discovered a way to actually speak to my children and direct them in such a way that they will obey! Please try some of these in your own home and give me your feedback. I'm considering writing a book on this revolutionary method.

First, a few things to remember: You must give children clear and comprehensible direction. You must also make sure that what you are asking of them is well within their capabilities.

Here are some examples, which I believe you can modify and use in your own parenting endeavors:

"Timmy, I would feel very happy if you would jump rope in the living room. And please do it as close as possible to the lamp, because picking up the broken shards of glass will make me even more happy."

"Sally, please go outside, without any clothes on, in the rain, and paste mud over your entire body. When you have done that, please come back inside and crawl upstairs to the bathtub and please make sure that you grind some globs of mud into the carpet."

"Ronny, would you please eat a whole bag of cheetos, 7 chocolate chip cookies, and 2 1/2 bags of Skittles before dinner? And if you throw up, would you please try to make it to the toilet?"

You see, what we really need to do is set our children up for success by asking them to do what we know they are fully able to do.

How hard is that?

Minty Fresh Feet

I would like to take this opportunity to lovingly thank my children:

For the rotten apple cores and wads of gum I find buried deep in the couch.

For the candle wax that is now a permanent part of our new carpet.

For lassoing our ceiling fan with a barrette and a string and causing it to come to a sputtering, sparking halt.

For the many food splatters on our dining room wall.

For the unidentifiable splatters elsewhere in the house.

For losing the remote control 83 billion times.

For eating all of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch in one sitting.

For using an entire bottle of shampoo in one shower.

For the writing on the walls. . . and cabinets. . .and stairs.

For scratching your name in the paint in the wall by your bed.

For practicing your cursive on the desks in the school room - with no paper.

For stealing my gum, my socks, and my hair clips.

For letting the upstairs sink overflow until the water streamed down the basement walls.

For pouring liquid soap into the electrical outlet.

For the chewed up pieces of our Life game and for the wrinkled Monopoly money.

For cutting a hole in our shower curtain with a pair of scissors.

For gobs of toothpaste that end up all over the bathroom, including the floor of the shower.

If I didn't have all these little messes to look forward to every day, it would only mean one thing: I wouldn't have you.

Struggling with Sin

Sin. I wish it had never been invented. If I see Eve in heaven, I'm really going to give her a piece of my mind.

I'm suffering with sin the way Paul describes it in Romans 7, when he says that, even though he wants to do what is good, sin is right there with him. I sin against my children, even though, of course, I don't want to. I hate it, but somehow I do it anyway.

My oldest is the toughest one for me right now. She's 9 going on 13. I swear she's been in pre-puberty since about age 6. She is so very emotional and so very irritable. I pray for her and I try really hard to be peaceful with her, to encourage the good in her, to correct her calmly and lovingly.

But tonight I blew it again. She was snapping at everyone and everything in her way, so I lost it. I didn't yell exactly, but I went on and on about how she needs to stop complaining and snapping at everyone and she needs to change her attitude and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. It was like words were coming out of my mouth and meanwhile, my brain is saying to me, "Will you shut up already?"

It is frustrating because I want to be a better mom. I could be a better mom if I had better children. (Of course, I'm kidding. . . .sort of.)

Believe me, I know that a lot of my children's issues come from my past mistakes. I also know that some of their issues come from being sinful human beings who need Jesus as much as I do. Some of their issues come from heredity. And some of their issues come from just being children.

A good bit of my struggle with depression has come from the fact that I've given in to self-condemnation when I've made mistakes with my children. Satan is crafty, so he uses something that is true - that I do indeed make mistakes and sin against my children, and twists it into an ugly lie that I believe - that I'm a terrible mom and all other moms in the world are better than me.

I have since learned to resist those lies and just fess up when I sin against my children. I ask their forgiveness and God's and I know that God forgives me - again and again and again (I'm pretty sure I passed the 70 x 7 mark about 2 children ago). I've found that it helps tremendously to internalize Scripture and use it as a weapon against Satan, the way Jesus did when He was tempted in the wilderness. But sometimes I wish I could just whack him upside the head with a big, heavy Bible.

In the end, it is most helpful to remember Paul's victorious proclamation: "Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord!"