Yesterday, Mark accused me of smoking weed — jokingly, but partly not. And just for clarity sake, I’m not. He’s simply grappling for some excuse as to why I’m so calm all the time in the midst of — well, our messy, noisy life. The last couple of days, the boys seemed to have joined their wills together to resist our authority. Yep, one of those phases again. Their weapons of choice this time? Whining, pouting, and crossing their arms with a simultaneous “huh.” Nice. Blythe, always wanting to be included with her brothers, has tried joining the conspiracy a couple of times. Only, instead of a grunty pout, she has the blood-curdling scream. Ususally, she loses interest.
Meanwhile, we have the mess. And I mean to say, “the mess,” as if it were a living organism. We have toys, laundry, markers, chalk, sand…etcetera that seems to pace this house as Andy’s toys in Toy Story, magically transplanting from one space to another and disappearing at will. Their migratory patterns suggest they loathe storage. Liam, however, is learning to enjoy clean spaces. He’s cleaned his room on his own volition a handful of times (every bit counts). By “clean” I mean clean floors and tables, with a soon-to-rupture closet and toy chest. Yes, I remember this. “See, Mom, it’s clean.”
As any of you who have children know, these phases (and fortunately, they are phases) wear you down quickly, hence the prompting question about the weed. So, Mark and I are beginning a time of training again: consistent (even petty) discipline, tons of reassurance, time, and love. I’ve realized in these short years that my kids usually begin reisisting us for one of two reasons: challenging us for our place of authority or not knowing/receiving our love for them (otherwise insecure in their position with us). Both need to be addressed spiritually and practically. Fortunately, I’m not too far removed from this process, as the Lord simulatneously deals with these “resistances” within me. So, I figure I have two choices during this time: relax and work with it, knowing it won’t last forever, or painstakingly try to control this process, usually leading me to a short-temper and often, anger. I wish I always chose the latter; although, it may cause others to believe you’re on drugs.
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I read this to Kev. We laughed…and cried. No, I’m kidding (kind of). We only laughed, because “THE mess” lives at our house, too. And there is no exterminating it. The attitude lives at our house, as well, so we can definitely relate.
Angie, I”m glad this encouraged you.
Distance, I’m not sure there’s always a point to what I say, but the point in my estimation was two-fold: no weapon (occasional unruliness of my children — in the physical, or anything unclean — in the metaphysical) will prosper against us (me, my husband, our home). I hope that clears something up.
Somehow i missed the point. Probably lost in translation :) Anyway … nice blog to visit.
cheers, Distance.
oh bethany, i am right there with you. we are in that same stage with olivia right now :( i really appreciate your approach, and the specifics (more love, time, reassurance, discipline,etc.
i needed to hear this today! love you.
thanks stac.
You really have a way with words. As you know, I do relate very well and I can see how Mark asked you that as you do have a consistently calm and flexible way about you during this not-so-calm stage of life. Thanks for saying what I needed to be reminded of in such a beautiful way.