Just when you think you are safe, that old enemy called Pride creeps up on again to stick his leg out in front of you and trip you up. Smack! You fall with a crash landing and realise what has happened, while Pride sniggers to himself and skitters away back into the shadows.
We all know that old proverb (Proverbs 16 v 18) "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before stumbling" but how many of us are aware of when it actually happens?
I have been thinking recently about whether it is acceptable to be 'proud' of our children, or whether this will also cause us to trip up again. It is only natural that we celebrate our children's achievements with them, and encourage them along the way. It is fitting that we feel pleased for them when they pass a test at school, learn to tie their shoelaces or behave in a caring way for someone. Sometimes though, this can be taken too far and I have heard many parents (probably myself included) boasting about their child's capabilities or exceptional development. Did their child really potty train themselves at 6 months?! Is their daughter really taking her GCSE's at 7 years old?! We are left wondering....
Why do we do this boasting? Is it, in fact, that we are proud of our own parenting skills rather than our children? Or do we want to make ourselves look like perfect parents? And where does the 'trip' come?
My 'trip' is almost certainly in my children's behaviour. Their disobedience ("I'm not ever going to do what you say ever again"), disrespect ("Yes Mum, pooface, bumhead.") and perpetual fighting with one another, whilst wrong, serves as my constant humility-developer. One moment Max is praying beautiful prayers and making up his own angelic songs about God's love, the next he is kicking Jonah under the table. Toby can go to the men's prayer breakfast and pray for a whole hour with all the men, and then come home and cause havoc by fighting and arguing with his brothers. Jonah can share so kindly with other children at a toddler group and then, when asked to put on his coat, stick his tongue out at me and run in the opposite direction.
Of course, they are just children and we would expect them to still need to learn and grow in their obedience and the way they relate to one another. We would also expect them to have moments of goodness when they make the right choices. Is it wrong to be 'proud' of them in those moments? I don't think so. What is wrong is when we might think they are better than everyone else's children. They soon prove us differently when their behaviour changes and we curl into a embarrassed ball as they roll around the floor kicking and screaming as though the world is at an end.
What do we do with Pride, then? Be ready. Be aware. Be waiting for him. He is waiting to trip us up. He is sneaking around in the background, biding his time until he can pounce on us again. When we feel that inner glow about our children, let's make sure it is not going to come crashing down around us. Let's be diligent in encouraging our children, but realistic in making sure that our own shortcomings of pride don't cause us to have a tumble.
Friday, 19 November 2010
Sunday, 14 November 2010
Breaking My Webs.
Having analysed the 'tweenage phenomenon' that has made it's surprise visit to our family recently, I have been pondering on the next 'letting go' phase of Toby's life.
All parenthood, from birth until leaving home, is 'letting go'. We cuddle our babies, until eventually they have to sleep on their own. We war through the 'terrible twos', sometimes not realising this is all part of the child's development into independence. We send our tiny little uniformed 5 year old to school, to spend the day with people we have never even met. We teach them to dress themselves, to put on their own shoes, to cross roads safely, to ride bikes, to fall in love (with someone that is not me?!) and eventually to drive (although this will be the job of my ever patient husband).
My current 'letting go' is on so many different levels with each son. Jonah is learning to put on his shoes and coat, and he goes off to playgroup to learn how to be confident without me there. Max is learning to cross roads and to organise himself without my hovering over him constantly (this is more of a challenge). Toby is 'playing out' with his friends. We do not always know where he is or what he is doing. He is safe within the strict boundaries we have given him, but he has to make decisions for himself and hopefully lean on the values and foundations that have been put into his life so far. What needs to be remembered throughout it all is that whilst I may let go of them, they need to be pointed towards their God who will not. I do not expect them to manage 'life' on their own. I do not expect them to be truly independent. We need to teach them to lean on God, who will not leave them. Our job as parents is not to simply relinquish responsibility and leave them hanging, it is to attach them to the strong rope who is their Father in Heaven. When this happens, whilst it will probably be painful, I hope that I will also find immense satisfaction, having completed by primary responsibility as a Mother.
I love this poem, by Evangeline Paterson, about the mixed up feelings of being a Mother:
A Wish for my Children
On this doorstep I stand,
year after year,
to watch you going
and think: May you not
skin you knees. May you
not catch your fingers
in car doors. May
your hearts not break.
May tide and weather
wait for your coming
and may you grow strong
to break
all webs of my weaving.
All parenthood, from birth until leaving home, is 'letting go'. We cuddle our babies, until eventually they have to sleep on their own. We war through the 'terrible twos', sometimes not realising this is all part of the child's development into independence. We send our tiny little uniformed 5 year old to school, to spend the day with people we have never even met. We teach them to dress themselves, to put on their own shoes, to cross roads safely, to ride bikes, to fall in love (with someone that is not me?!) and eventually to drive (although this will be the job of my ever patient husband).
My current 'letting go' is on so many different levels with each son. Jonah is learning to put on his shoes and coat, and he goes off to playgroup to learn how to be confident without me there. Max is learning to cross roads and to organise himself without my hovering over him constantly (this is more of a challenge). Toby is 'playing out' with his friends. We do not always know where he is or what he is doing. He is safe within the strict boundaries we have given him, but he has to make decisions for himself and hopefully lean on the values and foundations that have been put into his life so far. What needs to be remembered throughout it all is that whilst I may let go of them, they need to be pointed towards their God who will not. I do not expect them to manage 'life' on their own. I do not expect them to be truly independent. We need to teach them to lean on God, who will not leave them. Our job as parents is not to simply relinquish responsibility and leave them hanging, it is to attach them to the strong rope who is their Father in Heaven. When this happens, whilst it will probably be painful, I hope that I will also find immense satisfaction, having completed by primary responsibility as a Mother.
I love this poem, by Evangeline Paterson, about the mixed up feelings of being a Mother:
A Wish for my Children
On this doorstep I stand,
year after year,
to watch you going
and think: May you not
skin you knees. May you
not catch your fingers
in car doors. May
your hearts not break.
May tide and weather
wait for your coming
and may you grow strong
to break
all webs of my weaving.
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
The Tweenage Phenomenon
Unbeknown to me, two Americanisms have quietly crept into my title today. The first being the word 'phenomenon'. Is it just me, or does everyone else have to say it with an American accent too?
The second is far more complex in nature. The mystery of the 'tweenager'. Having never been a tweenager (they did not exist when I was younger, we were just normal children), it has arrived in our household as a surprising puzzle for us to figure out. ("Figure" also has to be said with an American accent, as in "Action Figyurs".) The tweenager is apparently aged between 9 and 12 and is not a child (the jury is still out on that one) and not a teenager (definitely not). As far as I can tell, the idea is an American one, born out of over-sentimental films such as High School Musical which encourage children to grow up sooner than they need and small girls to wear make up and raunchy clothing. (Can you feel another blog coming on?!)
Nevertheless, we suddenly have a 9 year old boy who slams doors, plays loud music (if JLS can be included within the remit of 'music'), envelops the house in clouds of Lynx and wants every gadget under the sun. He wants more freedom, he wants to go bed later and he expects us to follow his wishes. Like a toddler, he is learning how to be independent from us and pushing the boundaries constantly.
It may come as a surprise to you, but I have never been a 9 year old boy. I do not know how they think and view the world. Somehow we have to navigate Toby through this time of growth (for that is what it is) and still maintain our authority. He is not a teenager, but he would like to be. He is not old enough to do, say and watch the things that teenagers do, say and watch. However, he is also not a small child anymore and we need to treat him differently to the way we treat Max aged 6 and Jonah aged 3. We have to give him a measure of independence whilst making sure that he is within our realms of safety. Is it a fragile line to tread.
The other strange occurence that has accompanied this 'tweenagedom' is that Max and Jonah join in with this shift in the family. At 3 years old, Jonah prefers CBBC's Sarah Jane Adventures (Toby would NEVER have been allowed to watch that at 3, or even 6!) to anything that is on Cbeebies and sings the JLS songs word perfectly.
Perhaps after having 9 years of tweenage boys, they will not be such a mystery to us. We might even be able to put aside the cheesy High School Musical American images and actually enjoy these years!
The second is far more complex in nature. The mystery of the 'tweenager'. Having never been a tweenager (they did not exist when I was younger, we were just normal children), it has arrived in our household as a surprising puzzle for us to figure out. ("Figure" also has to be said with an American accent, as in "Action Figyurs".) The tweenager is apparently aged between 9 and 12 and is not a child (the jury is still out on that one) and not a teenager (definitely not). As far as I can tell, the idea is an American one, born out of over-sentimental films such as High School Musical which encourage children to grow up sooner than they need and small girls to wear make up and raunchy clothing. (Can you feel another blog coming on?!)
Nevertheless, we suddenly have a 9 year old boy who slams doors, plays loud music (if JLS can be included within the remit of 'music'), envelops the house in clouds of Lynx and wants every gadget under the sun. He wants more freedom, he wants to go bed later and he expects us to follow his wishes. Like a toddler, he is learning how to be independent from us and pushing the boundaries constantly.
It may come as a surprise to you, but I have never been a 9 year old boy. I do not know how they think and view the world. Somehow we have to navigate Toby through this time of growth (for that is what it is) and still maintain our authority. He is not a teenager, but he would like to be. He is not old enough to do, say and watch the things that teenagers do, say and watch. However, he is also not a small child anymore and we need to treat him differently to the way we treat Max aged 6 and Jonah aged 3. We have to give him a measure of independence whilst making sure that he is within our realms of safety. Is it a fragile line to tread.
The other strange occurence that has accompanied this 'tweenagedom' is that Max and Jonah join in with this shift in the family. At 3 years old, Jonah prefers CBBC's Sarah Jane Adventures (Toby would NEVER have been allowed to watch that at 3, or even 6!) to anything that is on Cbeebies and sings the JLS songs word perfectly.
Perhaps after having 9 years of tweenage boys, they will not be such a mystery to us. We might even be able to put aside the cheesy High School Musical American images and actually enjoy these years!
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
The Long Walk To Freedom
Yes... there are 4 more weeks to go of the Summer Holidays and the enticing thought of the freedom of September beckons.
Whilst we are in the middle of the long walk, I found this quote hugely encouraging and thought I would share it on here. The author is writing about the cost of investing in parenting versus the benefits. I could not write it more succinctly or cleverly, so am just going to copy it out. It's from "Shepherding a Child's Heart" by Ted Tripp. (Excellent book - best I have read so far on parenting... and I've read alot).
"There is a simple way to look at the cost of deep, full-orbed communication. You must regard parenting as one of your most important tasks while you have children at home. This is your calling. You must raise your children in the fear and admonition of the Lord. You cannot do so without investing yourself in a life of sensitive communication in which you help them understand life and God's world. There is nothing more important. You have only a brief season of life to invest yourself in this task. You have only one opportunity to do it. You cannot go back and do it over.
You live in a culture in which there are opportunities for you to do things unheard of in history. You are presented daily with the scores of option for investing your life's energies and creativity. There is more than you could ever do. You must, therefore, prioritize.
Parenting is your primary calling. Parenting will mean that you can't do all the things that you could otherwise do. It will affect your golf handicap. It may mean that your home does not look like a picture from 'Better Homes and Gardens'. It will impact your career and ascent on the corporate ladder. It will alter the kind of friendships you will be available to pursue. It will modify the amount of time you have for bowling, hunting, television, or how many books you are able to read. It will mean that you can't develop every interest that comes along. The costs are high.
How can you measure the cost against the benefits? I have spent time with broken parents. I have seen the drawn faces of parents who have known the heartbreak of seeing their children fleeing a home in which they had not been understood or engaged by their parents. I have also known the joy of hearing children who have been biblically engaged by their parents say, "Dad, I am amazed at how thoroughly I have been prepared for life. I will always be grateful for what you and Mom have given me." What price tag can a parent place on that? "
Need I say more?!
Whilst we are in the middle of the long walk, I found this quote hugely encouraging and thought I would share it on here. The author is writing about the cost of investing in parenting versus the benefits. I could not write it more succinctly or cleverly, so am just going to copy it out. It's from "Shepherding a Child's Heart" by Ted Tripp. (Excellent book - best I have read so far on parenting... and I've read alot).
"There is a simple way to look at the cost of deep, full-orbed communication. You must regard parenting as one of your most important tasks while you have children at home. This is your calling. You must raise your children in the fear and admonition of the Lord. You cannot do so without investing yourself in a life of sensitive communication in which you help them understand life and God's world. There is nothing more important. You have only a brief season of life to invest yourself in this task. You have only one opportunity to do it. You cannot go back and do it over.
You live in a culture in which there are opportunities for you to do things unheard of in history. You are presented daily with the scores of option for investing your life's energies and creativity. There is more than you could ever do. You must, therefore, prioritize.
Parenting is your primary calling. Parenting will mean that you can't do all the things that you could otherwise do. It will affect your golf handicap. It may mean that your home does not look like a picture from 'Better Homes and Gardens'. It will impact your career and ascent on the corporate ladder. It will alter the kind of friendships you will be available to pursue. It will modify the amount of time you have for bowling, hunting, television, or how many books you are able to read. It will mean that you can't develop every interest that comes along. The costs are high.
How can you measure the cost against the benefits? I have spent time with broken parents. I have seen the drawn faces of parents who have known the heartbreak of seeing their children fleeing a home in which they had not been understood or engaged by their parents. I have also known the joy of hearing children who have been biblically engaged by their parents say, "Dad, I am amazed at how thoroughly I have been prepared for life. I will always be grateful for what you and Mom have given me." What price tag can a parent place on that? "
Need I say more?!
Friday, 18 June 2010
Growing Up
We have now entered the world of no naps in the daytime. Always dreaded and never convenient when it arrives, it is a rite of passage that every toddler and mother will pass through. Oh, how I miss my 1 1/2 hour daily time to myself! But enough wallowing..... and onto more practical matters.
Having spent more time with Jonah over the last 2 weeks, I have actually discovered that I have a real little person on my hands. No longer the uncontainable, climbing up every shelf, emptying every cupboard, killing all the fish tiny toddler; he is now able to converse (ok, that may be taking it too far - witter is probably more accurate), follow instructions (as long as he approves them first) and concentrate for longer on planned activities. Far from being the nightmare that I expected, I have actually enjoyed my time with him in the afternoons. I have remembered all those little things that 2 and 3 year olds enjoy doing, and surprise surprise, he enjoys them! We have made cakes, put together puzzle after puzzle after puzzle after puzzle, played with water and been strawberry picking to name but a few activities. I have yet to get the paints out of the cupboard - I'm not ready for that!
I have realised that my baby is growing up, and I should treat him as an almost 3 year old instead of the 18 month old that I still think of him as. We have given the dummy away to the baby birds (yes, I know, I know, but he doesn't know that after he'd thrown it out of the window I quickly collected it and threw it in the bin. I doubt he will end up in therapy because of it.) and he is suddenly joining in more with family activities. He's not the 'add on' child anymore but he fully participates in the things we do. He 'helps' with jobs around the house and sometimes his help is actually helpful.
The last thing to tick off the list is potty training..... I cannot bear the thought of it. "Train a child in the way he should go and he will not depart from it" has not been too successful in the area of potty training and there has been alot of departing from where they should go. But my baby needs to grow up. (I really should stop calling him my baby, but I can't help it. He is so cute and winsome and cuddly and has lovely little bruise covered legs that poke out from the bottom of his shorts.)
Having spent more time with Jonah over the last 2 weeks, I have actually discovered that I have a real little person on my hands. No longer the uncontainable, climbing up every shelf, emptying every cupboard, killing all the fish tiny toddler; he is now able to converse (ok, that may be taking it too far - witter is probably more accurate), follow instructions (as long as he approves them first) and concentrate for longer on planned activities. Far from being the nightmare that I expected, I have actually enjoyed my time with him in the afternoons. I have remembered all those little things that 2 and 3 year olds enjoy doing, and surprise surprise, he enjoys them! We have made cakes, put together puzzle after puzzle after puzzle after puzzle, played with water and been strawberry picking to name but a few activities. I have yet to get the paints out of the cupboard - I'm not ready for that!
I have realised that my baby is growing up, and I should treat him as an almost 3 year old instead of the 18 month old that I still think of him as. We have given the dummy away to the baby birds (yes, I know, I know, but he doesn't know that after he'd thrown it out of the window I quickly collected it and threw it in the bin. I doubt he will end up in therapy because of it.) and he is suddenly joining in more with family activities. He's not the 'add on' child anymore but he fully participates in the things we do. He 'helps' with jobs around the house and sometimes his help is actually helpful.
The last thing to tick off the list is potty training..... I cannot bear the thought of it. "Train a child in the way he should go and he will not depart from it" has not been too successful in the area of potty training and there has been alot of departing from where they should go. But my baby needs to grow up. (I really should stop calling him my baby, but I can't help it. He is so cute and winsome and cuddly and has lovely little bruise covered legs that poke out from the bottom of his shorts.)
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Friendship
I am very blessed (I do find that word incredibly cheesy, but sometimes no other word will do. "Fortunate" isn't the truth, nor is "lucky", so "blessed" will have to suffice.) to have some incredible friends. Not only are they friends who I can have a good giggle with and be myself with, but they are friends who walk with me through every step of my journey in life.
A true friend is one who supports, sacrifices and tells the truth instead of paying lip service. Imagine going shopping with a friend who agrees with you and tells you that you look good in everything you try on. When you arrive home you try them on and your family laugh as you parade around the room giving a "fashion show" of your purchases (am I the only one who does this?). You discover that actually all your lumps and bumps are accentuated and really those skinny jeans were not your best ever buy. True friendship has to have honesty as it's hallmark. Consider this rather wise proverb:
A true friend is one who supports, sacrifices and tells the truth instead of paying lip service. Imagine going shopping with a friend who agrees with you and tells you that you look good in everything you try on. When you arrive home you try them on and your family laugh as you parade around the room giving a "fashion show" of your purchases (am I the only one who does this?). You discover that actually all your lumps and bumps are accentuated and really those skinny jeans were not your best ever buy. True friendship has to have honesty as it's hallmark. Consider this rather wise proverb:
"Wounds from a friend can be trusted but an enemy multiplies kisses." Proverbs 27 v 5-6
We do not usually expect our friends to be the ones who wound us, but actually, if they don't speak the truth to us ("Yes, I did mistake your bum for the elephant's bum" might perhaps be taking it too far) we will never learn, grow or change. I am so grateful for friends who love me so much that they will be honest with me and pinpoint areas in my life that need a bit of extra work. Not only do they pinpoint those areas, but they then will stick with me as I work through them.
If you are my friend, and you fit this bill, thank you. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for your commitment. Thank you for walking with me. I am truly grateful.
Now, enough of the sentiment...... toilets need de-weeing, toys need putting away and tea needs to be cooked.
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Mealtime Mantra
A very wise King, who had a good deal of children, once wrote:
"It is better to eat a dry crust of bread in peace than to have a feast where there is quarrelling."
Proverbs 17 v 1
Our lovely family mealtimes have recently transformed into a stage where the boys compete to be the funniest, say the rudest words, have the most food, have the ketchup / honey / brown sauce / mayonnaise first, be the loudest, talk the most, make the most mess or generally shout above others. Where we once had almost intelligent conversation at the table, we now have "Fartface" shouted from Jonah and uncontrollable giggles from Toby and Max. Where we once enjoyed learning about everyone's days at school and work, we now just hear the rude jokes they heard in the playground. Where we once listened politely to one another, we now just say the same things over and over:
"Use your knife and fork; don't lick the plate; mind you don't spill your drink; lean over the table; watch your sleeve in the sauce; that's enough ketchup....that's enough ketchup... THAT'S ENOUGH KETCHUP!; stop tapping the table; stop whistling; sit down on your bottom; don't put your hand in the yoghurt pot........ Does anyone else have these mealtime mantras or it is just our family who are growing up in a barn?
This weekend, thanks to some very very generous friends who are having all 3 of our boys, we are going away for a night to celebrate our anniversary. We will be able to have 2 whole meals in peace. Would I rather have a dry crust of bread in peace than a feast surrounded by quarrelling? Absolutely. Hopefully though Jared will take me somewhere where there will be more on the menu than dry crusts of bread.
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