Temper Tantrums: A Parent's Response Changes Everything

Temper tantrums.  Whether or not you're a parent, you've seen toddler temper tantrums at their worst, and we here in the Zoeller household are in the throes of them.  So we've done our share of experimenting with how to respond to them.  Of course, time out works wonders with one child while the other child becomes demonic as soon as she's behind the closed door of her bedroom.  A firm word works well with one while another ignores us or laughs at us.

To say the least, we're doing our best to screw up our children as we hop from one parenting method to another (because the one consistent thing every expert says is, "Consistency is the key to good parenting."  We're obviously not too consistent.).  1-2-3 Magic, Love and Logic, Toddler Wise, Raising a Strong-Willed Child, and countless bloggers have weighed in and influenced our practices in some way.  And while for each expert mentioned here I could list ten more, it wasn't until recently I looked to our Heavenly Father for the ultimate model in parenting.  While I am in no way a perfect person or mom, I'm learning along the way, and for the countless times I've failed, I've gotten a couple right along the way, and those couple are worth sharing and celebrating.

An Attitude of Gratitude

Lila and I had just dropped off some books at the library when Dan called and asked if I wanted to pick up some fast food for dinner on our way home.  Being right by an Arby's, I ordered a few sandwiches off their value menu and headed home.  Lila wanted to be sure I had ordered her some chicken nuggets, which I did not since the closest thing was a $3.99 order of chicken strips.  Sorry kid.  The $1 junior roast beef works just fine.  So our fun one-on-one trip was brought to a screeching halt since her world had obviously stopped spinning.  Huffs and puffs, glares, and kicking the back of the seat were only a few of her offensive tactics to let me know how greatly I had messed up.  And while my knee-jerk reaction in this situation is to raise my voice and to let her know that, "This is ridiculous.  We don't act this way!" something told me to bite my tongue.

A couple minutes later, I turned off the radio, looked in my rear view mirror and began.  "I'm thankful for Lila because she is such a funny girl who can always make me laugh.  What are you thankful for?"

Muttered response under her breath, "Dogs."

Me: I'm thankful for Aunt Jess because today is her birthday!  What are you thankful for?

L:  (muttered) Horses.

Me: I'm thankful for our warm house to keep us out of the cold.  What are you thankful for?

L:  Ummm, I'm thankful for Daddy.

And so on and so forth.  By the time we got home, we had a great ping-pong match of gratitude going.  I pulled into the garage and finished by saying, "I'm thankful for our family that we get to go eat dinner with.  Lets go get 'em!"  And together we bounded into the house happily.

Now, that right there would be a nice enough ending.  However, this was one of those times I was reminded that I am raising and polishing a jewel, and sometimes it takes a little effort to see that through the coal and dust.  Back to the dinner table.  I'm busy distributing everyone's food when my little Bug looks up at me and says, "Mommy, I'm thankful for my sandwich," which of course, was the original purpose behind it all.

And that was when the jewel glistened.  Even now I get teary eyed thinking about this.  How I ALWAYS have a choice in every circumstance to caustically respond to my child or to shepherd her heart.  And while these rugrats warrant a caustic reply every now and then, I think about how tender my Heavenly Father is with me.  Does he discipline?  Absolutely.  But when I complain to him, lay out my heart, make my feelings known, does he ever shame me?  Embarrass me?  Threaten me?  Never.  Always he shepherds.

Since then, I've found myself playing the thankfulness game on a few occasions, and while it sometimes requires me listing 10 things before she gets in on the game, my choice of gratitude always transforms her heart and brings her stinky little attitude around to one of thanksgiving as well.


I Love You, I Love You, I Love You

Due to Bear's developmental and speech delays, Lila is in many ways our eldest child, so she's a bit of the guinea pig for our parenting strategies.  She has been such a momma's girl lately, and while I normally wouldn't complain that my kid wants ME, this comes in the midst of Anna hitting a streak of terrible-twos as well as some illness in the house.  I just haven't figured out how to give when my kids need more of me than I have to give (grace).

Well, today at lunch was not an exception.  Anna and I were up and out of the house in the dark hours of morning to have tubes put in her ears, so not having mommy here to greet her put Lila on an emotional roller coaster once I returned home.  She suddenly needed me to do everything for her, didn't want the lunch I had prepared for her, and responded to everything with a puddle of tears pooling in her eyes and a bottom lip quivering.  So when I started to refill her drink and she began throwing a fit because (obviously I should have known) she wanted to do it herself, I kept my cool and said, "I allow little girls who use their words and speak kindly to refill their drinks."  To which I received foot stomping and panicked baby bird arm flapping along with a strangled cat mewing sound (good visual?).

After ignoring this behavior for a couple of minutes, I picked her up and bear hugged the heck out of that girl.  She tried kicking me, but I forced her head against my shoulder and just started saying, "I love you, I love you, I love you.  You are my best little buddy.  My favorite Lila Lou.  I love you to the moon and back and with my whole heart.  It does not matter what you do, how angry you are at me, if you kick me, if you yell at me.  You can never make me mad enough to not love you.  I love you, I love you.  I love YOU."  And repeated over and over again.  And the tantrum-demon departed and restored my sweet, sweet Lila to me.

Say what?!?  Did I want to yell at her and send her to time out for acting like I had shot her best friend when I was simply refilling her drink?  You bet!  Did she deserve an old-fashioned butt whooping?  Yep!  But man, these times are soooo rewarding when I choose to bow, to abandon my will and LOVE my child as the Father loves me.

Now guys, I would be lying to say if these two scenarios have been game changers in our house.  We are still in the midst of MAJOR wars of the wills...every single waking hour of the day.  I often throw my hands up, run my fingers through my hair, and look at Dan and say, "I just don't know what to do."  But if there's anything I'm learning is that parenting is not about exerting our wills on our children.  A dictatorship is.  But parenting is about guiding, shepherding, re-directing, loving.  We have a choice in how we respond, and that response is directed by prayer and time with the Father who always desires to shepherd our hearts.  If anything, these two scenarios are showing me that His grace and goodness are enough if I simply call on him to shepherd me in my parenting...that he desires to lead me in that, too.  May he always be our model in loving well.

Learning from Experience

I received the email last Sunday.  The subject line?  "Strawberries are Here!"  Meaning, or course, our local farm and uPick has strawberries ripe for the picking.  What followed was a week of a newsfeed clogged with pictures of adorable kiddos holding a quart of strawberries.  With the innumerable pictures, I was beginning to fear that by the time I was able to get there Thursday with my mom to pick, the plants would be picked over and bare.

Back story: I grew up on a farm where we rarely bought produce.  My parents put out a huge garden, and mom "put it up" every year (meaning she stocked the freezer and canned) so that we only ever purchased a few produce items throughout the year, and if we didn't grow it in our garden, we went to a local uPick to stock up.  Our summer meals reflected whatever was currently ripe in the garden, and a typical summer meal consisted of sweet corn (4-6 ears per person), tomatoes, cole slaw, and hard boiled eggs.  (Obviously, that doesn't quite work for me anymore since we live on a quarter-acre lot smack in the middle of suburbia, but my extended family continues with that self-sufficient lifestyle.)

So when we go to pick strawberries, we don't go for a quart.

In fact, we were probably fortunate that my mom had a busy weekend ahead of her and didn't have time to "do" her strawberries, so she only picked 3 quarts for herself, but she helped pick my 16 pounds so I could make my jam and freeze sliced berries for use throughout the year (and I still want to go back for more!).  Needless to say, my fears about the plants being picked over and bare were assuaged.  And while we were there picking, I learned why.

The uPick was more about a photo opp for a lot of people than it was about an actual desire to teach their children about a process.

I was astonished by the number of families who showed up with their kiddos in cute outfits, picked a handful of strawberries, snapped a pic, and left.  (If this tells you anything, the price of the strawberries was $1.95 per pound.  The lady in front of me had a bill of $1.70, but boy did her kids look cute, and I'm sure her pic was perfect to post to Facebook.)

So here's the question.  Are we more concerned about giving our kids experiences than with teaching them about processes?

I'm thirty-one-years-old.  I would venture to say that our generation was one of the forerunners of experiential childhoods.  Many of us didn't lack for experiences: youth group lock-ins, short-term missions trips, studying abroad.  While there's nothing wrong with simply allowing yourself or child to have an experience every now and then, many of us would probably confess that the experiences that meant the most were the ones where we somehow participated in the process around the experience (for me, it was serving on the leadership team for the camp I worked at in the summers; for others it might have been leading a short-term missions trip, or serving as a class officer and planning prom). 

Regardless, the experiences we value most and learn the most from in life are those that we directly have our hands involved in.

So by plopping our kids in a strawberry patch, a pumpkin patch, in a hot air balloon, beside a celebrity or pro athlete, or thrusting them onto sports teams for a photo opp and for our own treasured memories and sense of accomplishment as a parent may be a waste of energy, time, and money on our parts if in the end our children haven't gained a sense of understanding or appreciation for the experience.  It's easier to whip out our smart phones and quickly post a pic to Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram to inform others about the experiences we're creating for our kids (and to be honest, to pat ourselves on our backs for being such great parents).  In our consumer-based society, many of us are raising obese children: children who are obese with stuff, experiences, and their own self-centeredness because we aren't teaching children how to appreciate and value people, things, or special moments.  We're more concerned with exposing them to innumerable experiences in hopes they'll be well-rounded individuals, when in reality, deep relationships and an understanding and appreciation for life and all its nuances create centered--not self-centered--and peaceful individuals. 

So, instead of picking a quart of strawberries with your child for a picture opp, take the strawberries home and teach her how to make jam or strawberry shortcake.  Allow her to help you wash and hull the berries--even though it's messy, especially because it's messy!  Create a memory for your child that is cherished because of the quality time spent with and learning from you.  A strawberry shortcake tastes so much sweeter when one has picked, washed, and sliced the berries herself. 

Dear Anna Grey

Hi Baby,

This letter is long overdue.  Today, when you woke from napping after only an hour, I was annoyed.  But when you let me sit and rock you for nearly a half hour, I was in love.  These moments between us are so far and few, what with having an older brother and sister to keep up with, toys to be dumped, games of chase to be played, furniture to be climbed, and a cat to be tormented.  You're such a little busy body, though momma must confess that her busy body rarely takes the time to slow down and breathe you in.  How sad to think my third and last baby will be grown before I take the time to enjoy her.

So as I rocked you today and you started to stir, I kept snuggling you tighter, trying to convince you how much better the world is when you're in my arms.  And for awhile, you believed me.  But then the temptation of stuffed animals was too great and you wiggled from my arms.  Time to get going.

Baby, have I told you that you're my secret gift I didn't know I needed?  You see, shortly before Lila turned a year old, we were out for a family walk, and Daddy and I were discussing whether we thought our family was complete.  Having one boy and one girl seemed so perfect, but we both had lots of brothers and sisters and wanted the same for our two perfect kids, so we decided, that yes, we wanted another baby.  Which is a really good thing, because later that week, I found out I was already pregnant with you!  So unplanned and unexpectedly you came to us, which is quite perfect now that I know you.

You, little dancer, bring LIFE everywhere you go.  The sparkle in your eye is literally contagious, and your playfulness transforms me to my 13-year-old self who's saying, "YES!  Let's go teepeeing!" at the mere start of your giggle.  Before you, I thought I had everything.  Your brother was born and shattered my heart simply by being born.  I didn't think it could possibly contain more love than it held in the moment I first laid eyes on him.  But then your sister came along, and she's turned into my little mini-me.  So what more could I need?  I didn't know I NEEDED you!  You and life and dancing and giggling and silliness and playing!  Every. single. thing about you.

But there's something else you need to know about yourself, baby.  You see, during each of my pregnancies, I felt very strongly and specifically how to pray for the baby I was carrying.  For Bear, I knew I needed to pray that he would bring love and joy to everyone he met (and he does).  For Lila, I prayed for kindness and compassion but also bravery and courage (and she is).  But for you, little warrior, God placed in my heart to pray for you who would fight for peace and justice, which quite literally scares the heck out of me!  I have no idea what that means for God's plan for you, other than the fact that you came out a fighter.  You are fierce.  Fierce in your love.  Fierce in your play.  Fierce
in life.

And I can't believe I get to touch and love that little bit of heaven's fierceness that's contained in your great big fierce heart.

Anna Grey, my heart is shattered again and just oozes all the love it couldn't hold.  Baby girl, you completed our family when we didn't even know it needed completing.

With all the fiercest love a mother can muster,
Momma