Oh, what a day. It seemed like one continuous litany of "no." "Boogaloo, come upstairs and go potty." "No." "Boogaloo, let's get dressed and take Max outside for his walk." "No." "Boogaloo, stay out of the fridge." "Boogaloo, let's clean you up." "Boogaloo, stay in the cart." No, no, no, no, no.
Does it not occur to kids that parents have reasons for decreeing what they decree. I'm trying to remember back to my early childhood, but my brain is just too foggy. I'm pretty sure I was a lot like my daughter (though Mom says she resembles my little sister more in attitude. Go figure!), but that's not really the point. When do they begin to see reason? Or when do they begin to accept the pattern because I know that I'm being consistent, at least in all the important things.
Case in point, this morning after breakfast, I was on the computer, and I hear the familiar 'pop' of the fridge opening. Now she knows that she is not allowed to get stuff out of the fridge. If she gets something out on her own (juice is the usual culprit), she loses that privilege for the rest of the day. So I say, "Boogaloo, close the fridge."
She gets an impish grin on her face. "No." Then she runs for it, leaving the fridge open, of course.
"Oh, that's cute," the observer says, and some small, treacherous part of me is inclined to agree, hindering my attempts at discipline. Boo wants to play with Mommy. Oh boy! However, when the entire day from morning hair brushing to evening tooth brushing is made up of these antics, I begin to wonder what I'm doing wrong. I am so tired, so tired, of being thwarted by a three-year-old in all of the simplest necessary matters of daily life. She's not being mean or rebellions, just mischevous, stubborn, self-willed, and difficult.
As always, reflecting on my relationship with a child leads me to reflect on my relationship with my Father in Heaven. You know, there are passages in the Bible when he calls Israel (and by extension all of humanity) stiff-necked and harded headed. How many things out of the things I do all day are the rough equivalent of getting into the fridge without permission or soiling myself on the playground and refusing to admit it (she got a spanking for that one. Yuck.)? How maby times a day do I do something without thinking or just because I want to do it even though I know that it doesn't square with the guidelines that God has laid out in plain view? And how does he feel about that? There are times in the Old Testament when God seems torn between hugging Israel close to his breast and throttling them within an inch of their lives.
But love always wins out. God's love won out with Moses. It did under the prophets. It does with us, little though we deserve it. (Sometimes I think the little, persistent sins should do more to frustrate God than the big, once-in-a-lifetime sins. Such sins are like saying, "Lord, I know you're great, all-knowing, and have my best interests in mind, but I'd really rather have this than you." Sheesh. Very Romans 7). I suppose it helps being omnipotent and omniscient. He knows that it will all work out in the end.
My love for Boogaloo wins out. She's still in one piece, happily fed, cleaned, and snuggled up in bed. I hope she has no idea how frustrated I got today. For one thing, she seems to think it's funny when I pull out my hair, and for another, it's not about me anyway. It's about getting the job done.
Sufficient unto the day is the trouble thereof, and today is done.
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