Saturday
missionaries over for breakfast--
Breakfast is always fun with the missionaries.
Later that evening was Joseph's bday party at
Art Sports...the perfect place
for a bunch of kids to run around
and get all sweaty and worn out!
Somewhere in the middle of the day,
I had a grand argument
with Nana about her dating habits--
that was more fun than is legal in
some countries.
Not really,
actually it's not fun at all.
Sometimes being THE MOM
forces Me to have conversations
I would rather not have,
set rules I would rather not
have to enforce.
But being accountable for my stewardship
requires that I hold my ground
like an Oak tree
and not bend
even when I'd rather just hang around
and be lazy like a Willow.
And when I have to be THE MOM,
that's just no freaking fun at all.
I've always adhered to the saying:
"A good disciplinarian is a good teacher."
As a Teacher/Mom, I first try the soft approach--
express my love in a cheery-sunshiney way,
using examples of others,
encouraging to Choose The Right,
a soft voice.
"Oh Sugar face, don't touch the stove! That would hurt! And I love you so much, it would just kill me if you got burned!"
When the lesson isn't learned
I press forward
with love & logic--
express my concerns for their well-being
at their choices.
With real consequences.
"Don't TOUCH that stove! It will hurt you so much! You might have to go to the hospital! Please be more careful!"
When I feel taken advantage of,
the lesson is clearly not being learned,
I lay it out like a rug
as plainly as possible
with all the energy of my soul
and it comes out Blunt, Direct, and Sharp.
"Hey YOU! Stay away from the Stove. Period. Since I can't leave the room without wondering if you're going to touch the stove, you will have to stay outta the kitchen, indefinitely!"
Mr W says I use their example/choices
and serve it back to them.
"Remember when you last touched the stove? And it hurt so bad we had to buy bandages and stuff and you couldn't use your hand for a week? I told you to be careful and you didn't listen."
They don't like that.
They take the truth to be hard,
as I have heard.
I like plain-speaking.
Don't sugar coat it for me.
Tell me how it is.
I learn better that way.
SO when I express my expectations
and house rules,
I do not want any misunderstandings.
I want to be as clear as possible.
"The Stove is made to cook food. But you have to know the rules about cooking, before you can use the stove. And until then, you need to be extra careful around the kitchen and are not allowed to use the stove."
And if you know my kids,
that's how they relate to one another
and to their friends.
Speaking frankly
and plainly.
I wonder where they learned it from?
SO Nana isn't happy with me today.
We rarely argue.rarely.
But Satan is a Puke
and he just loves contention
in a family
and that Puke will use whatever
whoever he can
to stir up hard feelings.
Before she left last night,
to go back to her Nanny house,
we had scripture study
and Prayer
(wherein Ari blessed the meal that wasn't there)...
"please bless the food..."
We've been slacking
with this stuff
lately
and it shows,
right?
Whenever the energy of our home
becomes less-loving and more contentious,
I have to look at myself in the mirror
and ask
"Are you doing your part?"
Last night, the answer was "no".
So Mr W and I re-commited ourselves
to lead by example
and rein the family in again.
So before Nana left,
we called everyone to the diningroom table
with the charge to bring their scriptures
and we began at the beginning
1 Nephi.
We had been up to Mosiah,
but we decided to start over.
Because sometimes a clean start is
the best way.
I love my family.
I specifically love my daughter.
And until we are "good" again,
I won't throw my hands up in the air
and say "I'm too tired to care anymore!"
No, that's not Me.
Sometimes I am a soft-flowing Willow
but other times
I have to be an Oak.
Knowing when to be either
is the challenge.
The only way to know which
is to seek the Spirit.
So we're back to the basics.
BTW, I long for the day when I can
be a Willow
and not an Oak.
Any advice from the masses would be greatly appreciated!
Boy, it's hard on the dating stuff with "adult" children. I fall into that trap sometimes myself, and end up with much the same result you're experiencing. Still, once in a while I just have to speak my mind...and when the Spirit moves me, I do...consequences be hanged.
ReplyDeleteI think you're right that you just have to be in tune...and not in a reactive mode, but having had time to think things through, define your position to yoursef, and decide how you're going to approach the discussion. Then I find it useful to use as few words as possible so as not to beat them about the head and shoulders with my words of wisdom. (Sometimes I even decide to write a letter because it's a little less intrusive to them and because then I can say exactly what I want to and not risk going into some kind of annoying tirade.)
So, as you can see, I run into all the same problems you do. (And every other mom!)
All I can say is...SOLIDARITY, sistah!!
=)
My roots are planted right next to yours intermingling and firm. You go girl. And may your words be in her head when she needs them.
ReplyDeleteGreat comparisons and post. I've been there myself and I hear 'ya...its hard to know what to do or say, especially when that little thing called Free Agency is brought into play but it's your home, your rules as long as they reside under your roof. I think the Fresh Start approach is inspired and the right move...loving but firm and gospel centered !
ReplyDeleteGood Job! As a mom whose kids are moved out, I can tell you that they hated me for a long time, but now they love me and want to spend time with me. I thought that day would never come! Being strong is a sign of love.
ReplyDeleteMom in AZ
wow, Momza, children, it is a stuggle sometimes. it looks like you've got it somewhat under control.
ReplyDeletewe'd almost forgotten the trials of raising children. it was rough at times, . . . good memories, though.
hang tough, Momza,
:-)
..
.ero
Hang in there. You are right. I once had a time when my father reined me in and I was mad at him for it all summer. But at the end of the summer I completely understood why he had the rules he did and was so very grateful for it. It saved me a lot of grief my friends were not spared. I will always remember walking into his room, starting to cry and telling him thanks for being so strict. I then left with him just staring at me. I didn't explain, but he probably already knew. My oldest daughter thanks me all the time now for rules we set that she did not like. I think she will be even more strict with her own kids. :-)
ReplyDeleteGood luck. At least you know you and Nana are good friends. She will be okay.
Thanks so much for the encouragement! Sue, loved your "don't beat
ReplyDeleteem about the head & shoulders with my words"---so true!
Lisa & Lori & Bare: thanks for the re-enforcements!