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lhones
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Gender: Female
Interests: anything British, LOTR or Harry Potter, devouring Victorian novels especially written by women, also devouring desserts (fruit cobblers and gooey brownies), doing anything with my L'honey
Expertise: cleaning up my kids' vomit with speed, skill and a relatively good attitude, reading Spider-man books and the Critter book series from memory, making mac 'n cheese quicker than you can say 1-2-3, daydreaming about Hawaii
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Member Since:
12/16/2004
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| "Okay, I'll go to Kindergarten," said Stewart. I was thrilled. I thought this was the voice of reason finally winning through the whine of the weekend. But then I realized it was the sound of resignation--like Sidney Carton walking to the guillotine. Although Carton's resignation was filled with honor and nobility, and Stewart's was filled with dread and anxiety.
But when we got outside his classroom door, he promptly let out a wail and wrapped himself around my leg. Now Stewart is pretty strong for a five-year old. I actually had a really hard time getting his arms loose, especially since they were more like a vise which when loosened only clamped down harder. Finally, his teacher came over after greeting all the other children who seemed to file quite happily into the classroom, barely giving their parents a second glance. (Why is it always my kid, I wonder.) The teacher unraveled Stewart's arms and gently but firmly carried him bodily into the Kindergarten classroom and shut the door while assuring me that she would let me know if he still cried. Ten seconds later she poked her head out and told me that he was fine. And as I peeked in I saw him sitting calmly at his desk flipping through a book.
As we were driving away I told Mike that if this persists for a month I think we should consider taking Stewart out of Kindergarten. It's just not worth the pain and torture to him and to us. Let's just cry uncle and homeschool him. Mike looked a little stunned and determined to redouble his efforts at praying for Stewart. (SN: I learned the word "redouble" from Star Wars--kudos to you if you know which scene.) Anyway, I don't think that will be necessary since Stewart was all smiles when I came to pick him up--of course it could be because Kindergarten was over for the day. But he did triumphantly tell me that he played with Ben and Jason--interestingly the sons of the two mothers I had befriended. I guess it would have helped his friend-making earlier if I had known more of the parents too. I felt kind of bad about that--like if I had tried harder to make friends with the other parents maybe it would have been easier for him. Oh well, I guess we're both learning.
This is really a stretching experience for me, an opportunity for learning new things and connecting with new people. I already messed up too--nothing big, but apparently I have a lot to learn. I didn't realize that when you sign up for something for the class (like to bring a snack), you're supposed to write your child's name down and not your own--even though you are clearly the one making and bringing the snack. Totally did not know that and wrote down my name instead, which seemed logical to me since I am the one who is making myself responsible for the snack. Of course, I was the only one because all the other parents seemed to know this secret code or something. So now there's this list outside the classroom door with all these little kiddie names in the blanks (Tori, Maya, Ben, etc.) and then a glaring "Leslie." Kind of embarrassing for me since I really hate making public mistakes. Again, not a big deal, but can you say "newbie"?
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| It has been confirmed by several sources that Emma is a hitter. So sad. I foolishly hoped that Emma would be a peaceful and gentle child, especially since she's a girl. But no such thing. She's a hitter. She hits her brothers; she hits me; she hits sweet little kids in the nursery. She just hits. And the thing is it's usually not out of anger. Most of the time it's her way of trying to get someone's attention and make them interact with her. Of course, sometimes she hits when she's mad like when Bennett yells at her or Stewart takes away one of his toys from her. But for the most part, she just hits to play. I don't know if this makes it better or worse--senseless violence or innocent play? I'm stumped.
So how is it that I have managed to raise three hitters? As is well-published, both my boys are also hitters--or at least were. Stewart in his hey-day was a well-established cheek-pincher. I can still see the imprint of his little fingers on Everett's cheek, now red and wet with tears. My motto during this stage of Stewart's life was "Constant vigilance!" I literally used to hover over him whenever he was in the presence of other children so as to snatch his little hand if it lurked anywhere near a child's cheek. Those were stressful days. Bennett was a little better. He didn't hurt other children randomly like his brother; but he was a pusher--and on occasion still is with his little sister. Interestingly, now that I think about it, Bennett was more the hitted than the hitter. The scar on his chin is almost completely faded, which was inflicted by a kid at preschool, whom I have finally forgiven because his mother is so nice. Anyway, I digress.
The fact still remains that my kids are hitters, and I have often contemplated why this is. I mean, were the Veggie Tales videos too violent for Stewart? Did we model aggression at home? Are we creating an environment of pent-up frustration? Basically, are we to blame?
I think any parent's natural impulse is to blame oneself. The self-blaming may be quickly discarded or minimized or hidden behind a well-oiled coping mechanism of defensiveness. But still it's almost automatic. Like when a conscientious parent sees her child grossly misbehaving, she usually feels a natural pang of guilt, like "what did I do wrong such that my child is behaving like this?" This is only hugely magnified if the child grossly misbehaves in public. Hmmm--well, at least I think it happens for most conscientious parents. Maybe it's just insecure parents like me? I don't know.
I think most parents of young children are pretty insecure. Most parents wonder if they are doing a good job. I think that's why we appreciate so much verbal affirmation--or at least, this parent does. I still remember holding back my tears of gratitude when a nice elderly couple leaned over to me after breakfasting at Original Pancake House and told me that I was doing a great job. It was right after Emma was born, so it was one of our first outings as a family of five, and I totally ate it up. I'm still touched when I think about it.
Wow--this is getting really long and boring. But I really do have more to say on this topic--like how I think parents should react when their child hits or is hit and what I try to do to make the hitting incidents better. I'll spare everyone though and save it for another entry.
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| So I always said that I wouldn't be one of those weepy moms on the first day of Kindergarten. Maybe tears of joy, but definitely not tears of sadness. Well, that just goes to show that I don't always know what I'm talking about.
I was totally fine and quite upbeat--you know, to help Stewart stay positive. But when I kissed him good-bye and saw him start rubbing his eyes to stop the tears, I couldn't help myself. I felt that familiar tightening in my throat and the burning in my eyes. I think it was seeing Stewart look like such a little man--you know the way grown men cry--they don't let themselves completely lose it but just try to rub away the tears. And I could tell he was trying so hard not to lose it because he tried to distract himself by paging through the book on his desk while still furiously rubbing his eyes. It was hard to know that he was feeling so sad and scared and yet was trying so hard to stay strong. That totally killed me. I barely kept it together in front of the teacher. I'm pathetic.
It was such an emotionally exhausting day that I kept on falling asleep--even while playing with the kids and reading to them. I finally told Mike that I had to take a nap; and I slept for an hour. I don't think I've needed a nap like that since I was nursing Emma through the night.
Sheesh--this parenting thing is hard. It's hard to let go and walk through all these firsts. As much as it is a first for Stewart, it's a first for me too. I not only sense Stewart's sadness and anxiety; but I experience it too for myself. I know exactly how he felt today, because I felt the same way too. Tears and all.
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| So the little talk on God and Satan backfired on me this morning. Stewart was mad at me about something (unjustly, I think) and retaliated with "Fine! I'm going to follow Satan then!" Not good times.
Of course, I addressed it immediately--that it was NOT okay to talk casually about Satan, that it was not something to use to hurt me, and that it was not okay to use words to hurt people in the first place. And I reiterated that the stuff we talked about yesterday was grown-up stuff--serious stuff, not to be taken lightly, life and death stuff.
But as I was talking, I had a horrible fleeting thought--"Oh no, has Stewart already learned that he can hurt me by turning his back on God? Will he become like the rebellious pastor's kid who resents his parents' ministry and so rejects God as a way of getting back at them? God forbid! (Me genoito!--for all those Greek buffs out there.)" This is a real fear for me. I cannot express how much I conscientiously work at giving the kids lots of quality time and even talk about ministry as "work" so that they don't see church or God as the one who is taking their parents away from them (not that we are away from them much at all). But in the end, who knows? They are still in the hands of God. I realize that I can't control them--how they will or will not worship Jesus and walk in his ways, how they will end up perceiving our ministry and priorities, how they will join in or reject God's calling on our family. It's all to be determined by the grace of God. Sigh--this is hard for me.
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| Stewart and I had a very interesting conversation about Satan this morning. It all started when he asked why we were all sick again. (The family has been sick for the last month at least.) And my response was that I think it's spiritual warfare. I honestly didn't think he would pursue it, but I should have known better, since he's pretty interested in "fighting stories" as long as there are plenty of bad guys and the good guys win in the end. And the Jesus story is all about that.
So now Stewart knows who Satan is--that he was an angel who once was a good guy but then became very proud and wanted to be like God and as a result became the "baddest guy" in the world--the bad guy of all bad guys, from whom all bad guys come. I know it's a pretty simple version but, I think, accurate at least. We talked about how he became the serpent in the Garden of Eden and lied to Eve and Adam about the fruit and caused them to disobey God. (This was a particularly meaningful story since Mike and I have been talking a lot about lying to Stewart--like how he shouldn't do it!) It was funny how surprised and interested Stewart was that the serpent was Satan: "Satan became a snake and made him talk?" I mean, why would a serpent talk smack about God to begin with? I don't think I realized that Stewart didn't have a comprehensive idea or theology of bad and good in the Bible and didn't understand up to this point that evil can in some way be located in one very bad guy--not that sin isn't already present in all of us but that there actually is a real bad guy in this world who actively tries to make us bad too.
It was also interesting how Stewart pieced things together. Like he asked if God was going to send Satan to jail forever. And I said that God will do that when it's time although I didn't name the eternal jail hell. He can learn that later. I think the most interesting thing that Stewart put together was the fact that God "tricked" Satan when he let Jesus die on the cross because he raised him back to life again and made a way for him to save all of us. We had talked about that before, but I think this time Stewart understood that this "bad guy" I had always talked about was Satan who had been and is still wreaking havoc in God's world. And I think Stewart understood that there is this spiritual struggle inside of him--to listen to God or to listen to the lies of Satan. It was like this new awareness of how the moral and spiritual world works.
I was careful to not make it sound like Satan and God are on equal terms like just these representatives of evil and good. I don't know if I succeeded, but I did feel good that Stewart himself kept on saying that God is more powerful than Satan. We repeated that several times to reassure him (and me!) that there is nothing to be afraid of if we believe in Jesus. Of course, he still looked a little scared and asked what Satan looked like and wondered if he were here with us now as he glanced over his shoulder. So funny, and yet not that different from my own reaction when we talk about Satan. So Stewart prayed and asked that God would protect our family from Satan and our sickness and that God would help us not to be afraid and not to listen to Satan's lies. It was really great--those moments you live for as a Christian parent.
Anyway, I told Mike about our conversation later, and he was pretty surprised that we went into it in such detail. I think he was alarmed lest Stewart start talking about Satan to his friends at school or something. I'm fine with that as long as he talks more about God and God's rightful place of power and dominion over Satan. Well, I just hope that I didn't make Stewart too interested in Satan, since he is prone to be interested in bad guys. But I hope some good things came out of our spontaneous conversation. Who knows how much he'll remember anyway. I just think it's interesting and fun to talk to Stewart about spiritual things now because he's beginning to get it. It's really cool.
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