Sometimes being a parent is really hard. I want my kids to be happy. All. The. Time. But because I LOVE my kids, I know that giving them what they want so they can be happy NOW doesn't necessarily mean they will be happy in the long run.
Sunday afternoon we were having a great Family Movie Moment watching Harry Potter. Drake was snuggled into me on the couch and Paul was near us. Cooper, Andrew and Barik were laying on a Queen sized air mattress on the floor next to the couch. The sun had come through the windows and was shining in Coopers eyes. Obviously, he wasn't happy in that location.
OK. Let's solve this problem. We can have Andrew and Barik squeeze closer together so Cooper can get out of the sun. "NO!"
Cooper can sit on the couch. "NO!"
We can make a bed on the floor and prop Coopers pillows up on the air mattress so Cooper can still be near his brothers and "on" the air mattress. "NO!"
Cooper wanted to make Andrew and/or Barik get off the air mattress so he could have their spot. But that wasn't a fair solution. Especially when they were willing to move to make room for Cooper. But Cooper just wouldn't be happy. No matter how hard we tried. No matter which fair solution we came up with.
The boy was getting out of control. The MONSTER had been peaking its ugly head out off and on throughout the day. But now, the MONSTER was taking over. So, the MONSTER was sent to his room for a time out. "SLAM" went the door. {that's never a good thing} One thing led to another. No amount of talking or logic could penetrate the thick skin (skull) of the MONSTER.
I really DON'T like when my kids act like this.
I really DON'T like when they get in trouble. I really DON'T like listening to Paul yell at him. I really DON'T like listening to Cooper yell at Paul. Paul was losing patience. In an effort to relieve Paul, I took over. Now
I was yelling at Cooper. I really DON'T like that either.
It felt like we were ganging up on him. I'm sure that felt aweful to him. Yet the MONSTER was still there! He was sent to bed without dinner. He was spanked. He was taken to the front porch in his underwear where he continued kicking and screaming.
I was torn. I knew I needed to stand my ground. I knew I needed to be strong. But I also wanted to give in. I wanted to give him what he wanted. I wanted to give him "one more chance." But how many "one more chances"
should I give him? If I continue to give him MORE chances, it doesn't teach him limits. It doesn't teach him consequences. I don't know what to do in those circumstances. He needs to learn right from wrong. It's MY job as his parent to teach him.
It felt like I was "breaking" a stalion. Teaching him the appropriate ways to behave in our home. In teaching him these things, sometimes his light fades. And when that happens, I feel great sorrow! Does he
know that I love him? Does he
know how difficult this is for me? Does he
know how I want him to be happy? Does he
know that I LOVE him even when he's making bad choices?
Eventually...Eventually...he calmed down.
Whenever I have to discipline my kids, this scripture comes to mind:
Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy; (D & C 121:43)So with that as my guide, I went in to Coopers room to talk with him. I had torn him down. Now it was my job to lift him back up. I told him that I LOVE him. No matter what. No matter his choices; good or bad. I gave him lots of loves and reminded him
why he was being disciplined. I gave him lots of loves and kisses and then said "Good night."
This episode wiped me out. Emotionally. I was spent! Empty. I had
nothing left to give. I still felt so sad. I cried on Paul's shoulder telling him how aweful I felt. He held me. He reminded me that it's our job as parents to draw lines. And to stand by those lines. I felt a little bit better. But just a little.
Later that night, I went into Coopers room. He was sleeping. But I climbed into bed next to him and snuggled him. For a long time. I silently told him
again how much I love him. I prayed that he would feel my love for him. I prayed that he would
not feel worthless. I cried. Again.
The next morning, he acted as if
nothing had happened. He was his normal happy-go-lucky self. I took him aside to talk to him. Again. I wanted to lift him up. Again. I told him how sad it makes me to have to discipline him. I told him that I cried because I was so sad. "You cried too, Mom?" I took that little boy in my arms and gave him a BIG hug and lots of kisses. "Yes, I cried. I love you SO much that I feel really sad when you're sad."
Tough Love is just that...TOUGH.
