"Hey guys. At preschool we figured out that the earth spins. And we don't feel it."
"It's earth day, so we shouldn't throw litter on the ground."
These charming sayings by my child would probably warm my heart even more if I weren't feeling stressed out by trying to get him to do pretty much anything in a timely manner. We did make it to the doctor's appointment in time. That even went pretty well. I think I can cross "find a new pediatrician" off the list of things to do before the new baby comes.
But then we had about an hour for Liam to eat lunch and use the bathroom before we needed to leave to get him to preschool on time. During this interval I started to think fondly of the benefits of adopting fatalism as my over-riding life philosophy. Then while my child discusses at length the pattern he's going to use to eat his jam sandwich and banana ("half a banana, half a sandwich, half a banana, half a....." at which point I can't help but point out how many sandwiches would be involved) or when he insists that his tummy hurts and he needs to take a play break before eating more, or when he spends 20 minutes on the toilet and then insists that he can't possibly be done because he's pooping at this very moment I could chalk it up to karma and possibly continue to breathe at the same even pace I was using before. And when, at the exact moment the preschool is supposed to be starting he is still pulling up his pants and washing his hands maybe I could just assume that we were supposed to be late and that his teachers would understand because they too would know that the events of the universe are out of our control and it's useless to chafe against them.
Instead, I'm left with a scientific, western world view that uses genetics and environment to explain my child's behavior. And either way, it's pretty much my fault and my responsibility to fix it. Or at least to take deep breaths, try to unclench my jaw and gently move him toward the goal with the hope that some day the lessons of "stay on track" and doing what it takes to get some place in a timely manner will sink in and he too will accept the premise that he is in charge of his own destiny and can influence, if not control the future. I believe at moments like this that it's impossible for me not to brainwash my child.
I guess I should be wishing that I was "better" at practicing the spiritual beliefs I actually do ascribe to - trusting in God to give me strength and patience and to enable me to get through the situation by His grace. But I have decided that trying to be a better Christian is a burden I can't carry and probably a goal that has kept me from really enjoying my relationship with Christ, and benefiting from it as much as He'd like for much of my life. And honestly, I'm not sure what most of what I said about trusting God to give me strength actually means. I'm not sure how that differs from just taking the next breath and doing the next thing and trying to focus on how precious my son is to me rather than on how much I want to manhandle him into the car while explaining as loudly as I can how frustrating his behavior is to me. Maybe it's my western world view blocking my access to the spiritual world again, but short of showing up in person to take my child to preschool (which I'm sure He would be able to do on time) or sending a surrogate to do it, it's hard for me to see how God is, in a practical sense, helping me through this moment.
But I can believe that God cares about the frustration I'm experiencing at these moments. I do feel comforted by the idea that He deals with me with infinitely more patience than I can ever muster in my dealings with my child. And that whether or not, on some distant day, I can see that it was all worth the hassles because of this awesome human being who came out of this process, that God sees my effort and the intent of my heart and that He treasures me - even when I roll my eyes for the hundredth time, take another deep breath, and speak as quietly as I can to avoid yelling at the top of my breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment