Prone to Wander

This morning I went to put the baby down for her morning nap, and an ungodly racket ensued. Two of my children decided to throw a gigantic fit about not being able to open the baby gate at the top of my stairs. I hollered out that they would have to wait for help because I was busy, and there is 1 mommy and 4 kids. One kid piped down and one kid escalated. If you know my children I bet you can guess the child who escalated but, as a courtesy, this child shall remain nameless.

The wailing and crying was completely out of control, and out of proportion to the issue at hand. It is just not that big of deal to wait a couple minutes to be able to go upstairs.

I decided to help my child learn that s/he had a choice and that s/he COULD choose different behavior. My requirement was simple. The discipline would be concludede as soon as the child could sit next to me (without flopping an wallering like a pig) quietly for several minutes (no crying or running commentaries on the woes of being a child with such a cruel and unfair mother). Guess how long I sat waiting for my child to comply. 1 hour. It took my child 1 hour to choose to sit quietly next to me for probably 3 minutes. We had both decided that this was a hill worth dying on, and I came out victorious. But I am more convinced than ever that I have a strong willed child. The issue was compliance, or lack thereof. It was an unwillingness to bend to anothers will. Of all the ways to spend ones childhood flopping and screaming on the couch for an hour doesn't seem like a good one. But the thing about defiance is that it usually hurts the one being defiant the most.

The sad truth is that sometimes I do the same thing as my child. I willfully choose things that I know are not in my best interest because I want what I want when I want it. Take french bread for instance. I adore french bread. Adore it. But I am aware that it is not a good idea to eat an entire loaf at one sitting. But not too long ago I ate almost an entire loaf in the course of 36 hours. After all it had been years since I'd been able to eat french bread; wasn't I entitled? I had a choice, and I chose gluttony. That is one of the grossest sounding words in the English language, and I don't want to 'fess up to it. But there it is. I was defiant. I knew what was right and didn't choose it.

There is an old hymn that says, "Prone to wander, Lord I feel it..." To that I heartily agree, "Me too!" Just my child, I am prone to wander from what is best. When will I grow up?