So, I may or may not have lost it at small group tonight. I cried. And not just a little, either. Oh, and have I mentioned that this is our new small group at our new church?
It started with a simple everyone-gives-their-prayer-requests moment and somehow out comes the fact that we got a (very detailed! three page!) note home from our big girl's teacher today about her behavior. To put it simply, she bullied one of her friends and didn't listen to her teacher. But the worst part was, I wasn't all that surprised. It seems like every time I pick her up from a nursery or school these days I'm holding my breath for the bad report. She has turned into somewhat of a bully and disobedient to boot. And to be honest, I'm at my wits' end.
Spanking, threats, time-outs, talks, hugs, praise...nothing seems to help.
I keep telling myself this is just a phase, and then after a while that just starts sounding like a lame excuse and I get discouraged all over again. I hear the voices in my mind shouting that I am a failure as a mom. And it's not going to get better. By the time she's a teenager, she'll be getting into real trouble...Those are some loud voices.
Graciously, the kind man who leads our group encouraged me by telling me that his granddaughter went through something similar. He said that, like my girlie, she is very bright, personable, and happy and that sometime after she was two she just morphed into a monster. He confirmed my suspicion: the little girl did in fact seem to grow out of it after a couple of months.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that we're going to ignore the problem or that we aren't going to discipline poor behavior, because we are (also, so you are fairly warned, I'm not saying that I'm past the irrationally emotional part of this--so bring it up at your own risk!). But, after our group leader shared the story about his granddaughter, I realized my anxiety is a pattern. The stages and phases of my oldest child's little life have all been monumental for me as a parent because they are new. And, frankly, they all feel permanent when we're in the midst of them.
I remember bringing home that beautiful little bundle and discovering that she. didn't. sleep. ever. And so ensued the traumatic thought: What have we DONE?! We are NEVER going to sleep again! I can't function on this little sleep! How are we going to SURVIVE?
Lo and behold, the baby hit five months and became the world's best sleeper (at least until she was about 18 months, but that's a whole different story...). I became coherent once again, my husband and I stopped fighting over whose turn it was to get out of bed, and life went on.
With my other children, when they've gone through phases I have been able to confidently say, "This is hard, but it gets better!" I've seen the other side of the phase, and I know we can survive it.
But this doesn't require much faith. Faith, after all, is "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." It takes faith to look at my oldest daughter, desperate for a solution, and hope in God because He is faithful. And to look to Him to sustain me and to give me wisdom in parenting a wonderful-turned-very-difficult child.
I think maybe this is some of what Jesus meant when He told us to worry about today only because tomorrow has enough trouble of its own. I do not have to assume that whatever we are going through today is permanent. I can look at the future and "laugh at the time to come," knowing that, whatever we face tomorrow with our big girl, God's grace will be sufficient then too.
Oh, and I'll let you know whether my new small group takes back this emotional basketcase next week...
No comments:
Post a Comment