Susan Merrill

Sometimes when my kids do the cleverly deceptive, “if  Mom’s not paying attention thing,” the most clever consequence is to give ‘em what they wanted.  I have two examples from the last two days and for the same child.  Imagine that!

Example 1:  My son recently received his PSP back after a long, discipline-induced, hiatus.  There were no strings attached, other than I am the PSP keeper and he must ask me to use it.  I was liberally allowing usage as he had worked hard to earn it back.  It was a Friday, and he asked, and I allowed, an hour of PSP time before bed.  Next morning he asked again.  I told him it was Saturday, so get out and play.  His response, “But, mom, you said I could play two hours a weekend and I only got one last night.”

News to me… “I don’t remember ever saying anything about two hours a weekend.”  He insisted that I had said it.  Bottom line, he wanted another hour and he wanted it now.  If he had to make something up to get it, he didn’t see anything wrong with that.

The Clever Consequence:  No need to argue, I let him “win.”  I gave him the hour he requested.  And now he can play two hours a weekend; that’s all.  If I go run errands all day and he asks if he can play while I am gone, I sadly tell him I can’t let him because he might play more than two hours.  If he uses up all his hours on Friday, he cannot play on Saturday or Sunday.   He has limited himself to two hours a weekend – from now until eternity!  Okay, maybe not that long.

Example 2:  Our laundry room is in the former garage, now a converted playroom.  It is inconveniently not attached to the house.   Every week my kids are supposed to get their laundry from the garage and put it away all at one time; not piece by piece when they need it at 6:00 in the morning before school.  After reminding my son to get his laundry, I observed him heading up the stairs with a basket but no hanging clothes.

I asked him where they were and he replied, “I didn’t have any.”  Hmph, I thought, that is impossible. “Are you sure you looked carefully?”  I asked.  He insisted he looked, and continued on his way.

So, I went out to the laundry room and found not one or two, but seven articles of hanging clothes that belonged to him.  I took them upstairs, called him in my room and held up each piece one by one.  Excuses fell easily from his lips – “That one doesn’t fit me anymore.  Those aren’t my shorts, they must be Marky’s,” etc., etc.   “Really,” I said, and dismissed him.  No need to argue.  I put the clothes away in the back of my closet because they were, according to him, not his.

The Clever Consequence:  Well, today was picture day at school and that means no uniform.   You must wear nice “hang up” type clothes.  So, I hear a yell from upstairs, “Mom, where are my shorts?”  I reply, “Why are you asking me, they are not mine?”  “You took them.” He said.  “I would not take YOUR shorts,”  I said.  “I did carry some clothes all the way up from the laundry room for you.  But YOU said they were not YOURS.  I don’t know where your shorts are.”

Needless to say my son’s 2010 school picture will be in his uniform.  Don’t know if he will have a smile either, he was very grumpy on the way to school.

It will be interesting to see him wear his school uniform to church this Sunday – the clever consequence continues.

When I say, “I would do anything for my kids,” I envision the ultimate sacrifice.  I picture an attacker approaching one of my children with a crazed look in his eye. Resolved to defend them, I fearlessly step in between their life and a loaded gun. I save them. I’ll admit—it’s a little dramatic.

The real problem is, I often think in terms of physical risk to my children’s safety, and forget it’s their emotional and spiritual wholeness that is often in the line of fire. I miss the opportunity to thwart a coming attack because it’s not as readily visible as say, staring down the barrel of a gun.  More often, “do anything to protect my children” requires simple, everyday sacrifices on my part.

Am I willing to model love and honor for their father—even when I don’t feel like it? Will I model forgiveness to an “undeserving” family member?  Will I work less? Spend less?  Say “No.” to them even when saying “Yes.” is easier? Will I turn off my computer and get off my cell phone? Will I be joyful in the midst of struggle?

Those are the kinds of sacrifices that make up the everyday life of a mom.  Those are the sacrifices that protect my children’s hearts, minds and souls.  Those sacrifices rarely require a quick intervention or a cape-wielding hero.  Parenting and motherhood is far less glamorous (as if you didn’t know).  But, hey, if wearing a cape would help me get the job done, tie it on!

“Mommy, why are you crying?”

“I am not crying.”

“Mommy, why is daddy so mad about the new couch?”

“Daddy has a lot on his mind.”

Simple questions, simple evasions.  But kids are not that simple – they have incredible imaginations. It’s like this:  Have you ever read a best-seller and then watched the movie version?  No matter how big the film budget is, the movie is never as good as what you envisioned while reading the book.  In your mind, as you read that novel, the images are vivid, the plot is captivating, and the uncertainty is nail-biting. That’s because our imaginations allow us to fill in the blanks of a story.  And have you noticed?  Our imaginations have no limits.

So, when we’re not open and honest with our kids in a positive manner, we are giving them permission to use their imaginations to fill in the blanks of our ever-changing story (daddy getting laid off, moving, financial distress, divorce, death, health issues, a new baby, etc)—not good.  Because whatever your child’s imagination provides in response to your story is likely to be much scarier than what is really going on. So give them the security they crave by being honest, open, and optimistic—even if it means exposing the harsh reality of mommy’s hormones.

Your answers don’t need to be complex when they are little, just honest.  When my children asked “Mommy, why are you crying?” and it was because of hormones I explained that once a month my body had the chance to make a baby – a good thing – and if it didn’t my bottom would bleed.  This always makes me feel a little weepy.  Sounds silly but to this day when I am weepy the kids just nod to each other and say “her bottom must be bleeding.”  No worries, they just give me a hug!

Some things like financial distress are more serious, but we are kidding ourselves if we think our children are too young to sense our fear.  They do!  And their fears will grow as they imagine the worst.  If money is tight, talk about it with the kids.   Make them a part of the plan to save instead of getting frustrated when they want to spend because they don’t know what is going on.

Protecting our children from the realities of life isn’t really protecting them at all.  It is setting them up for unnecessary insecurity when they imagine the worst or unrealistic expectations when they are sheltered from the truth about life.