Compassion?!

I feel like I'm losing it. Not my sanity, although some moments I think that's probably gone, too! No, I'm talking about my compassion. I've found myself easily frustrated and irritable with the kids the last little while, and I've been wondering where my compassion has gone. When I force myself to stop and think about the losses our kids have experienced, it's easy to feel compassionate; they've all experienced the loss of the woman who bore them - her warmth, her voice, her being. In addition to that, the boys endured the loss of their foster family. Although they were too young to have conscious memory of it, they lost a mom and a dad, and two awesome big brothers. Kolbie came to us after he had already securely attached to his foster family... not an insignificant transition. This is a lot of emotional upheaval for a growing brain to process - so it's really no wonder that we're dealing with a few things that seem to be related to these early losses.

So why am I losing it?? It seems I suffer from a sort of amnesia when it comes to this stuff. It's easy to remember all the reasons my kids have for feeling sad and fearful and out of control when I'm talking to other adults, or when they're all sleeping and looking like perfect little angels. But put me in a room with them when I'm over-tired, dealing with a migraine, and wishing I had an extra pair of hands to clean up the most recent mess while keeping one of them at arms' length from the other, and I'm just annoyed. Frustrated, even. Okay, I'm angry. Compassion?! Forget it. We just had this discussion last week/yesterday/five minutes ago. It is NEVER okay to whack somebody in the head with a hard toy because they didn't get out of the way fast enough. Never. At these moments it takes every ounce of self-control I have (and sometimes I don't have enough) to not turn in to a 3-year-old and vent my frustration in a decidedly child-like manner. I've written before about how hard it is to show love when they're misbehaving, and I'm discovering it's a theme I need to re-visit.

So, what does love look like when I'm dealing with my kids' misbehaviour? I believe it looks self-controlled and respectful. I'm pretty sure I should try to do what I'm asking them to do - express my feelings and make my point in a way that doesn't hurt or coerce anyone. I know I have to remember where they've come from, and that they may be reacting to my voice and body language with fear and anxiety. "Love is patient and kind... It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged." (1 Corinthians 13:4,5) Darn. I do impatient and irritable so well.

So, how am I going to remember all this the next time I feel like stomping my feet and indulging in a little temper tantrum?! Practice, practice, practice. Remember the re-do? Turns out it's not just for kids. And I'm hoping that the more I practice, the better we all get.

"Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance."
1 Corinthians 13:7

A little creativity goes a long way...

Eating supper as a family has not always been the most peaceful time of day in our home. You know that "Whack-a-Mole" game? The one where little mole heads keep popping up and you have to try and thump as many of them with a club as you can? That's kind of what our supper table has been like in the past - minus the head-thumping, of course. As soon as everyone would finally be seated, and Brian and I were attempting to enjoy our meals, a little body would come popping up out of its seat and start running across the house on some crazy mission. This kind of thing is contagious, of course, so before long there would be three little bodies running around, giggling hysterically. Brian and I tried a little bit of everything. We started off with a playful approach, using reverse psychology -
"Don't eat your supper!"
"You won't like this, it's disgusting!"
"Mmmm, I hope ______ doesn't want his/her food because I want to eat it..."

When we didn't see results we quickly moved on to more desperate tactics: bribes and threats -
"If you take 3 bites then you can have_______!"
"If you don't eat your supper then you'll have to eat it for snack before bed."
"Nobody gets to play with toys until they eat their supper!"
But this didn't get us very far either, and left a bad aftertaste that the most delicious meal couldn't take away.

I even tried following them around the house with their food, abandoning all efforts to keep them seated at the table. I figured my main goal was feeding them, so did it really matter where they were eating?! This led to a slight difference of opinion with my husband, who was feeling more than a little frustrated by how things were going and was starting to wonder if we'd ever be able to take our kids out in public again.

I remember one night in particular. None of the kids had napped, so I knew that they would be especially wiggly at supper. I made spaghetti and meat sauce, one of our favourites, with the hope that full tummies would increase our chances of a good night's sleep. As we sat down and said grace, things didn't look good. One of the boys fell off his chair while we were praying, so the giggling started before anyone had even taken a bite. In a moment of desperation/inspiration I said, "Hey, I'm going to tell a story while we're eating!" Encouraged by the fact that all three of them were sitting still in their chairs and looking at me expectantly, I ignored Brian's rolling eyes and continued. "One day, three kids named Kolbie, Logan and Rylie went to their Grandma and Grandpa's house..." Every few sentences I'd stop and say, "Okay, let's all take a bite!" Completely distracted from their usual disruptive urges, they kept shovelling food in their mouths as I told the riveting tale of how they got to ride their bikes at my parents' house today. Then, to my utter astonishment, my wiggliest child looked up from his nearly empty bowl and said, "Thank-you-for-the-supper-I-please-leave-the-table?" He sat in his chair, ate his supper, AND remembered his manners. Victory!

I stumbled upon something very valuable that night - while I was telling the story, we were connecting. They kept chiming in and adding little details about our day. We got to laugh together about all the goofy things that happened. We took the focus off whether or not they were eating, and the eating happened. A few years have passed since that night, but we still use stories to help keep us all at the table at suppertime. We don't need it every night, and I'm not energetic enough to make up stories, but many evenings will still find me with a fork in one hand and a book in the other. And I love it!

What are some strategies you've found successful in your attempts to have a somewhat peaceful family meal?

Emmanuel

Emmanuel. The name for Jesus meaning "God with us." The perfect name to contemplate on Christmas Eve...

As a young woman, I felt alone. Misunderstood. Under-appreciated. I felt like no one really got me. I made some poor choices in a desperate attempt to find someone who would see my value, know me deeply, and love me fully.

I looked right past God.
               The God who sees me (Genesis 16:13).
                              The God who knows me (Psalm 139:1-18).
                                              The God who loves me (Isaiah 54:10).

The God who took on human form, who was born as a baby over 2000 years ago so He could experience our humanity and be fully with us.

Experiencing Emmanuel has changed my life. God is with me - I am never alone. I am fully known and fully loved.

Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, which means 'God is with us.'                       Matthew 1:23

The miracle of Christmas: the same God who was born as a baby in a stable long ago has been born in my heart and I will never be the same. Hallelujah! The King is here!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4I6-9HFyYE&feature=player_embedded (just one of my very favourite Christmas songs!)

A Re-do in the Real World

One of the things I love about the Empowered to Connect approach to parenting is the practice of giving my children the opportunity to "re-do" whatever it is they've done wrong. Rather than punish the wrong behaviour, we try to give the kids a chance to do it right so we can reinforce the correct behaviour and build muscle memory for that behaviour. It's a great strategy for ending discipline on a positive note, and for staying connected with my child throughout the correction. Or that's how it's supposed to work...

Truthfully? It's exhausting. It takes forever, and requires significantly more patience and perseverance than I possess. In a house with 3 pre-schoolers, most misbehaviour involves more than one child, so in addition to dealing with at least 1 perpetrator, I also need to soothe at least 1 victim. By the time everyone is calm (including me) and the various tales of woe have been heard, we then have to reconstruct the scene of the crime and walk everyone through a re-do. For the most part, they've all been willing participants! I generally give them their scripts and we perform our re-do and everyone goes back to playing and getting along. (For the moment.) The biggest deterrent to a successful re-do is me. I start out with good intentions, and the first few hours of the day go so smoothly I'm ready to call Michael and Amy Monroe and tell them to get a camera crew up here - surely they could use my example in their next teaching dvd! Then, sometime after the 3rd or 4th nuclear meltdown of the morning, and after I've unsuccessfully attempted to tidy up the toy room, wash some dishes, and do a load of laundry, I lose my motivation. I start to get frustrated because my day is not proceeding as I had expected. I am not crossing tasks off my to-do list. Brian is going to come home and there will be no discernible improvement to the chaotic condition of our home. And could we please go fifteen minutes without someone crying?!?!

Well, despite my frustration, the re-do routine is making baby steps towards becoming established. I'm becoming more accepting of unproductive days, reminding myself that the kids will suffer more from chronic anger and frustration than they will from chronic messiness. And I know that an intentional focus on maintaining a strong connection with my children will pay off in the long run.

A few weeks ago, however, my resolve was tested. Connecting while correcting is one thing at home; being out in public takes things to a whole new level! It was a Tuesday afternoon, and we had been at church for the whole morning. I had attended the ladies' Bible study while the kids were in their classes, and we were doing our usual walkabout after lunch. Being at church gives us lots of practice at "Sticking Together" - it's a great big, wide open space that practically begs kids to explore at high speed. Logan had already received a few reminders to stay close when he suddenly took off (followed by his sister, of course!). He wasn't exactly running away, he was just enjoying the freedom of running as far and as fast as he could. I knew I'd have to deal with him, but I wasn't too concerned - I figured he'd turn around eventually and I knew that he's familiar enough with the building to not get himself lost. Kolbie, however, was not as confident. He started wailing - a loud, frightened wail that bounced around that great big, wide open space... I grabbed his hand and started to move as quickly as I could without running myself. (I didn't want to spook Logan or give him the impression that it was a game of chase!) When they finally stopped and I caught up to them, I was annoyed, embarrassed, and generally frazzled. My first instinct was to scoop everyone up while speaking tensely at them through clenched teeth and get in the van and go home. Then it popped into my head that I should probably stay calm and do a re-do. I found myself at a fork in the road: follow my instincts and deal with the guilt and regret I'd feel for taking my embarrassment out on my kids, or do the right thing and forget about what other people might be thinking and walk the kids through a re-do?

Thankfully, I chose the re-do! I explained that running that far ahead was not okay, and that we were going to go back to where they'd started to take off and practice sticking together. They all agreed, Kolbie calmed down, and the re-do was fairly successful. From an outside perspective, it probably looked like Logan got away with misbehaving. From my perspective, it was a win-win. The behaviour was corrected, our connection was maintained, and we all got into the van content and at peace with each other. Experiences like this encourage me to keep going. On days when it seems like it would be so much easier if I could just inflict a prompt, painful punishment I remember that we all do better when I can stay calm and give them a second chance (or a 52nd chance, depending on the day!).

My resolve is also strengthened by the example of Jesus in John 21, where He leads Simon Peter through a re-do of sorts. On the night Jesus was crucified, Peter had denied his relationship with Jesus three times while standing beside a charcoal fire (John 18:17-18, 25-27). After His resurrection, Jesus appears to Peter and some of the other disciples. They are out fishing and Jesus builds a charcoal fire on the beach so they can have a fish fry.

     After breakfast Jesus asked Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?"
     "Yes, Lord," Peter replied, "you know I love you."
     "Then feed my lambs," Jesus told him.
     Jesus repeated the question: "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
     "Yes, Lord," Peter said, "you know I love you."
     "Then take care of my sheep," Jesus said.
     A third time he asked him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
     Peter was hurt that Jesus asked the question a third time. He said, "Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you."
     Jesus said, "Then feed my sheep."

~John 21:15-17 (NLT)

I love this! I love that Jesus restores Peter to relationship with Himself by giving him a chance to acknowledge his love for Jesus three times - one for every denial. I love that Jesus doesn't shame or belittle him for his weakness. And I love the trust that Peter demonstrates when he says, "You know that I love you." Clearly, he felt fully known and fully loved by Jesus. (Dr. Karyn Purvis, 2010, p. 42)

So I will persevere. I will remember that I have been given many second chances. And I will let the love of Jesus shine through me to my kids.

*For more information on the IDEAL response to misbehaviour, check out http://empoweredtoconnect.org/the-ideal-response-for-parents.

Works Cited

Dr. Karyn Purvis, with Michael & Amy Monroe (2010). Created to Connect. Empowered to Connect.

Dancing over Texas

A cloudless night
A nearly full moon
Flashes of light spark,
then fizzle
As moonlight dances on water.
Like fireworks on the ground
or a sparkler on a birthday cake -
An unexpected gift at 30,000 feet.
A ribbon of water is suddenly illuminated
as the moon flies over a winding creek,
then disappears just as suddenly.

My heart is filled with wonder, delight, peace...
"Fear not,"
God whispers to my soul,
"Let's play."
And I know -
this is where I'm meant to be.
Hope and joy cascade into gratitude,
overwhelming me with extravagant love.

The Good Parent...

What does it mean to be a good parent? This is something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I always assumed good parents would have good kids, but I'm starting to question this assumption. On one hand, I know that my kids are just like all other humans - capable of great love and beauty, but also able to bring a world of hurt and disappointment down on themselves and those who love them. On the other hand, I've found myself operating under the deeper assumption that if I do my job right, then my children will bear the evidence of all my hard work their entire lives. Right?! (Don't get me wrong - I do, and will always, believe that parents hold immense power and responsibility for how their children grow and develop - I'm just wondering if my underlying assumptions and motivations need adjustment!)

After all, people aren't puppets - if I wanted total control, I probably should have become a ventriloquist. It seems incredibly self-centered, now that I think about it... to believe that my children's behaviour is a reflection on me. As if my self-worth as a parent is dependent on their behaviour! Seems like a recipe for disaster. What happens when I apply this model to my own parents? They're quite wonderful folks, and they love me a lot. I consider them to be very good parents. My choices in my twenties, however, likely made them feel like complete failures. They're not.

And what about God? It's widely acknowledged that He is the only perfect parent, but how have His kids turned out? Throughout history, from the accounts of God's people in the bible to the lives of Christians today, we see spectacular examples of imperfection - deep character flaws leading to huge disasters. Do I think that God is a failure as a parent? Well, no... When I reflect on my own life, I see how God has always loved me, despite my failures. I see that He has redeemed my mistakes, and brought about great beauty through them. I see how my life has been restored, and realize that much of what I see now would not exist if I had not made the mistakes I did. Through it all, God has remained the same: loving, merciful, gracious, forgiving, and always guiding me to what's right and good.

So, back to my question. What does it mean to be a good parent? Perhaps it's not ultimately about my children's behaviour. Maybe MY behaviour is what I should use to define my success as a parent... Am I working to reflect the love and character of God to my children? Do I respond to their mistakes and failures with grace and forgiveness? Or am I allowing my feelings of success and self-worth to be determined by their actions, which are largely out of my control? Hmmm...

My "To Do" List, revised

I truly enjoy the feeling of accomplishment when I get to cross things off my "To Do" list. Sometimes I'm even tempted to put stuff like "shower" and "drink coffee" on it just so I can experience the thrill of achievement again!

As Brian and I have been preparing for our Empowered to Connect training, we've been enthusiastically trying out new strategies with the kids, and striving to be more consistent with all the stuff we already knew we should be doing but had gotten a little lazy with. The more I learn about the Empowered to Connect model, the more I realize how much I need to step up my game as a mom. And the more I wonder how I'm ever going to get the stuff on my "To Do" list done... So, I decided to re-think my list. Here's what I came up with.

1. Vacuum the house. Make eye contact and keep my facial expression soft and warm when my vacuuming is interrupted for the umpteenth time.
2. Grocery shopping. Keep my voice gentle and playful, especially when Logan is busy adding random items to the cart.
3. Do the dishes. Take advantage of all offers of "help" to have a little sensory fun with the kids and build relationships through teamwork and affectionate physical contact.
4. Play with the kids. When confronted with perceived misbehaviour, ask myself, "What need or want is driving this behaviour? How can I help my child practice the right behaviour?"
5. Remember to cut myself some slack, lean on God, make time to laugh, and celebrate my successes. None of this really comes naturally to me, so any and all improvements need a little pat on the back!

For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.                   ~Ephesians 2:10

As I learn and grow and practice, practice, practice, I am being transformed. And I am overwhelmed with gratitude and joy for all the good things He has planned for me to do.

(For more info on what we're learning, visit http://empoweredtoconnect.org/)