Okay, I realize that most of you probably think our children are well behaved, at least I hope you do! In fact, when we are in public they are generally well behaved.
Furthermore, the ONLY time I can remember Elizabeth being terrible in public was just after the twins were born. We were at church, trying to get everyone situated to leave. The twins were each still in infant carriers and Elizabeth was just 2 years old. We picked her up from her Sunday School class and she could not decide if she wanted to stay with MeMe (my mom) or go with us. Luke took the twins and headed out toward the car. Looking back, I think he might have seen the meltdown coming and ran for cover. Just kidding.
For Elizabeth, MeMe is matched by no one. The decision was a tough one for her to make.
She said she wanted MeMe so I started down the hall, alone, toward the door. She busts out from around the corner, screaming my name. I go to her, pick her up and continue toward the door. Upon her realization that she was leaving MeMe, she began screaming louder only this time, for her MeMe.
I took her back to her Sunday School room and left her with MeMe. Once more, I head toward the door and hear her screaming my name. This continued about 3 more times until finally, Elizabeth was hysterically crying. I took her around the corner just to try and calm her down.
When I squatted down to be eye level with her she reached out and slapped me, right across the face. The look of shock on my face must have revealed to her that she was in SUPER DUPER big trouble. The screams got louder.
I went to pick her up and she went into the Beaver family's signature "Crocodile Death Roll." To avoid dropping her on her precious head, I scoop her up and hold her cross ways in my arms like a barrel. At this point, I'm all but sprinting for the door.
Elizabeth continues screaming, biting, spitting and kicking all the way through the parking lot. It was one of those moments where you focus on the car and just go, avoiding eye contact with anyone in sight. Trust me, EVERYONE was watching us.
Those moments have been few and far between. Actually, she's not had another moment like that, in public, since.
Why then, when I say to a group of people (my ladies group aside-girls, you know!) that my children are having obedience issues that they reply,
"Really? You're children are so well behaved!"
Ugh! Yes, I'm making it up. I'm lying about the disobedience of my kids just for FUN. There are some of you who are reading this that KNOW that I'm not kidding.
Some of you *cough, (Matt and Brittany)* have witnessed the stubbornness of Lucas. Some of you, okay maybe a lot of you since I posted the video, have witnessed Ashlee's meltdowns.
I agree that generally speaking, my kids are well behaved. But I see these kids, or read books, and it's as if their kids NEVER misbehave. They are always bright, cheery and obedient.
Is that possible? Am I missing something?
I guess you can tell from reading this and this other post that I have had a rough week so far. I told Luke about my day yesterday (don't worry - I got my 3 positives in before I unloaded on him) and he asked me,
"So, after days like today do you still love being home."
I didn't even pause.
"Of course I do."
All in all, I know that I am doing what God has created me to do. But, everyone has bad days, or weeks, don't they?
Once more I'm reminded, of James 1:2-4
This week, I'm struggling to find the pure joy in my children's temper tantrums. I'm struggling to find the pure joy in my strong-willed, two year old son's CONSTANT testing. I'm struggling to find the pure joy in lots and lots of screaming.
Last night from 2am-5:30am I struggled to find pure joy when the girls refused to sleep without me in the bed, between them (that would be a twin sized bed). I struggled to find the joy when I slammed the door on them because I was just so tired. (Yes, I'm confessing.)
I will, however, focus on finding pure joy with each of these trials. Because, there will come a day when I don't hear the patter of little feet coming into our room at 2am.
There will come a day when my son won't let me hold him when he cries.
There will come a day when my girls won't get out of bed 14 bazillion times for "just one more hug".
There will come a time when our house is quiet and I can sleep and I'll wish a thousand times that I had just one more sleepless night, just one more chance to rock a sleepy child.
There will come a time when I will beg for just one more night, sandwiched between my sweet princesses, elbows in my ribs, a cramped neck because I have no pillow...but the sounds and smells of childhood all within my arms reach.
I WILL consider it all pure joy. I will.
Furthermore, the ONLY time I can remember Elizabeth being terrible in public was just after the twins were born. We were at church, trying to get everyone situated to leave. The twins were each still in infant carriers and Elizabeth was just 2 years old. We picked her up from her Sunday School class and she could not decide if she wanted to stay with MeMe (my mom) or go with us. Luke took the twins and headed out toward the car. Looking back, I think he might have seen the meltdown coming and ran for cover. Just kidding.
For Elizabeth, MeMe is matched by no one. The decision was a tough one for her to make.
She said she wanted MeMe so I started down the hall, alone, toward the door. She busts out from around the corner, screaming my name. I go to her, pick her up and continue toward the door. Upon her realization that she was leaving MeMe, she began screaming louder only this time, for her MeMe.
I took her back to her Sunday School room and left her with MeMe. Once more, I head toward the door and hear her screaming my name. This continued about 3 more times until finally, Elizabeth was hysterically crying. I took her around the corner just to try and calm her down.
When I squatted down to be eye level with her she reached out and slapped me, right across the face. The look of shock on my face must have revealed to her that she was in SUPER DUPER big trouble. The screams got louder.
I went to pick her up and she went into the Beaver family's signature "Crocodile Death Roll." To avoid dropping her on her precious head, I scoop her up and hold her cross ways in my arms like a barrel. At this point, I'm all but sprinting for the door.
Elizabeth continues screaming, biting, spitting and kicking all the way through the parking lot. It was one of those moments where you focus on the car and just go, avoiding eye contact with anyone in sight. Trust me, EVERYONE was watching us.
Those moments have been few and far between. Actually, she's not had another moment like that, in public, since.
Why then, when I say to a group of people (my ladies group aside-girls, you know!) that my children are having obedience issues that they reply,
"Really? You're children are so well behaved!"
Ugh! Yes, I'm making it up. I'm lying about the disobedience of my kids just for FUN. There are some of you who are reading this that KNOW that I'm not kidding.
Some of you *cough, (Matt and Brittany)* have witnessed the stubbornness of Lucas. Some of you, okay maybe a lot of you since I posted the video, have witnessed Ashlee's meltdowns.
I agree that generally speaking, my kids are well behaved. But I see these kids, or read books, and it's as if their kids NEVER misbehave. They are always bright, cheery and obedient.
Is that possible? Am I missing something?
I guess you can tell from reading this and this other post that I have had a rough week so far. I told Luke about my day yesterday (don't worry - I got my 3 positives in before I unloaded on him) and he asked me,
"So, after days like today do you still love being home."
I didn't even pause.
"Of course I do."
All in all, I know that I am doing what God has created me to do. But, everyone has bad days, or weeks, don't they?
Once more I'm reminded, of James 1:2-4
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
This week, I'm struggling to find the pure joy in my children's temper tantrums. I'm struggling to find the pure joy in my strong-willed, two year old son's CONSTANT testing. I'm struggling to find the pure joy in lots and lots of screaming.
Last night from 2am-5:30am I struggled to find pure joy when the girls refused to sleep without me in the bed, between them (that would be a twin sized bed). I struggled to find the joy when I slammed the door on them because I was just so tired. (Yes, I'm confessing.)
I will, however, focus on finding pure joy with each of these trials. Because, there will come a day when I don't hear the patter of little feet coming into our room at 2am.
There will come a day when my son won't let me hold him when he cries.
There will come a day when my girls won't get out of bed 14 bazillion times for "just one more hug".
There will come a time when our house is quiet and I can sleep and I'll wish a thousand times that I had just one more sleepless night, just one more chance to rock a sleepy child.
There will come a time when I will beg for just one more night, sandwiched between my sweet princesses, elbows in my ribs, a cramped neck because I have no pillow...but the sounds and smells of childhood all within my arms reach.
I WILL consider it all pure joy. I will.