GPS and My Public Humiliation

We’ve been having some morning drama over here at Zehlahlum House. We’ve switched to doing school as soon as breakfast is over and it isn’t hasn’t been the smoothest transition for Peanut. Boohoo has been a wreck in the mornings and we’re averaging a tantrum every 30 minutes and/or a full two hours of arguing, rudeness, defiance, attitude, and general misery spreading. I don’t know what’s causing it. And then Pickle…is Pickle and there is no describing him.


The only thing that makes it better is when I have a constant good attitude, which strikes me as completely unfair (kidding), but hasn’t been happening lately. I was talking to a wise friend the other day and she asked me what our good days had in common.I had never thought of it that way before. I’ve tried to pin down what our bad days have in common, but that is always stuff that’s really easy to blame on the kids. Tantrums, hitting, misplaced poop, disrespect, sibling rivalry, missing sleep, etc. 


But I had never asked the question the other way. What do our good days have in commong? The answer is stupid me! When I am responding to my kids with Grace, Patience and a Sense of humor then we generally get where we need to be. GPS. The GPS in my car tells us the right way to go as long as we keep the maps updated. My parental G(race) P(atience) S(sense of humor) will tell me the right way to go as long as I keep myself in sync with the correct map. What’s my parenting map? The Bible.
No elaborate system, no beating my children, no yelling, no making us all miserable with consequences, no need to do anything TO them, no sticker charts (except maybe for mama), no shame, no guilt, no complication, no duh!


Time in the Bible for me and then for them…
Grace
Patience
Sense of humor.


I’m not saying this is easy, but it does make things so much better. This morning was well on the way to being a full-fledged disaster. The kids were staging a coup and this mama was about to put military style martial law into place…because they deserved it! I had tried to be patient with them and it wasn’t working! I could have been hardcore about it and I could have been justified. They were bad attitudes. There was disobeying. They were in the wrong. But, as Relient K says so pefectly, “the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair”. And so this time, I remembered to give grace. 


I turned the music on, I set the iPad up so my little vain peacocks could see themselves and watch themselves again later, and for 11 minutes we danced. Then in an attempt to encourage more mamas to dance instead of always being the heavy I shared it to the internet. So, if you’d like to see 11 minutes of my public humiliation come on over to the Zehlahlum Family FB page.

Four Years Ago

Since we’ve been unpacking at the new house I’m finding all kinds of old stuff. This is something that I wrote June 25, 2008.

I miss my buddy. I dropped Peanut (19 months old) off at 7:15 this morning. He was taking two steps toward all the toys and one step back to me. I was happy he felt secure, worried he didn’t really understand what was happening because he’s always with me, and intensely sad that he wasn’t clinging to my legs. Nah, I didn’t really want him to be upset, not too upset anyway.

On my way to my appointment I did not narrate about the color, size, or type of vehicles we passed—opps, I passed. I did not sing the ABC song or make funny faces into my rearview mirror.

On my way into my appointment I did not get out the stroller and put my purse in the seat to wheel inside with a toddler helping to push it. I did not have to explain to a squirming toddler that we hold hands in the parking lot and I would let go soon. I did not stop to brush asphalt off the knees of a baby who always falls because his feet just can’t keep up with excitement. I did not stop to examine the crack in the sidewalk or pick up any stones.

I did arrive on time which is 15 minutes early to my appointment because it only took me 90 seconds to walk inside. I never had to say “Come on, honey. Keep walking.” And hear back, “Tum on, hon-eeey, hon-eeeey".” In fact, I didn’t say anything until I got to the door and it was locked. I guess when you have the first appointment of the day you don’t have to arrive 15 minutes early to be on time. I said to the door, “I could have spent 15 more minutes with him.”

I walked to the lobby to wait. I took normal, adult sized steps. I had no Peanut with me to use the long straight halls as his personal runway, no shared smiles with people walking toward me and looking at him, but seeing their own long-grown toddler instead of mine. I did get checked out by a passing doctor, so that was good. I didn’t announce my need to “go potty” or warn anyone that the flush was going to be noisy. Does anyone know why public toilets flush so loudly?

In the lobby, I didn’t walk around tailing my toddler or helping him climb on and off the chairs. I just sat down. I sent a text message. I made a to-do list for the day.

In the waiting room, I did not pull a matchbox car or a pacifier out of my purse, but I could have. Instead I kept writing. I didn’t comment on the 4th of July banners and flags that the office was decorated with, but I knew Peanut would have said “ooooh, nice!” over and over again.

In the exam room, I sat down again. I didn’t strap anyone into a stroller against their will. I didn’t hand out Teddy Grahams and a sippy cup. I didn’t recite any poetry, nursery rhymes, or board book. I didn’t say “swish” because no one played with the privacy curtain. I didn’t giggle and say, “Not for you” because Peanut wasn’t playing with the stirrups on the exam table. I didn’t drive any small construction trucks off the exam table so that they crashed onto the floor. (Those beds make the perfect ramps, for those of you without toddler sons). I just sat and waited and wrote and needed to pee again.

During the appointment, I spoke in complete uninterrupted sentences. My attention wasn’t fractured by a bored toddler. I asked my questions and listened to answers. I heard my new baby’s (Pickle) thump-thump-thump-thump-thump heartbeat and it was just the two of us.

After my appointment, I scheduled my ultrasound and stopped at the pharmacy without feeling frustrated that I wasn’t done yet and feeling bad that I was still wrangling my poor son around instead of letting him roam free.

I watched the clock tick closer to 9:00 and I missed my little buddy and looked forward to having another.