This weekend L has been gone to his dad's house for a weekend with the boys - him, his brother and his dad. Though we definitely miss him, E and I have enjoyed some time together strawberry pickin', hanging out at friends' houses, cleaning a little, relaxing a little, and watching more than enough 'My Little Pony' videos.
Today after church, I opted for eating out, since it would seemingly help with the flow of the afternoon. As we got our order and sat down at the table, I breathed a sigh of relief - she was happy and this was a good idea.
Whether or not she's happy about it shouldn't translate into whether or not it's a good idea, the voice in my head warned. (Cue somber, foreboding music)
We carried on for a moment with lunch, I gave the usual reminder to turn around - *insert curse words against restaurant TV's here*, and without warning, she went from playful and content to pouty and disrespectful.
"But I don't want to turn around and eat. I want to watch the TV. I don't like this taco. I'm not hungry anymore." And with a quick folding of her arms, she knocked her purse (yes, I said 'her purse') on the ground. I reached down and picked it up, placing it beside me.
"E, sit down and finish your lunch," I repeated sternly. "Or we will pack it up and head home."
"But I want my purse back," she escalated. "What are you going to do with my purse??"
I responded by pushing her food closer. "You knocked it off because you are playing and not eating, so I'm going to hold it for you while you finish your lunch."
And it was on. Tears flowed, lips out, arms crossed - she was prepping for war over a freakin' taco. And - always being up for a good fight - I was happy to oblige. I moved over to her side of the booth, searching for higher ground.
"Why are you sitting beside me?" E asked.
"So I can help you eat your lunch. You seem to be having a tough time," I responded.
She let loose - head tipped back, she let out a growling scream from the pit of her being. The kind of scream where the oxygen temporarily left the room as all the parents sucked in their breaths and said a quick 'thank-you prayer' to God Almighty that it wasn't their kid this time. To be honest, it shocked (and embarrassed) me so much I let out half of a laugh before I pulled myself together and reengaged.
"Ooooo-kaaaay." I said as I started to wrap up her taco and gather the trash. "Time to go home."
Now it seems to be a universal rule among kids that as soon as parents move to make good on their threatened promise - as soon as the punishment seems real - they all (most of the time) release the reigns and forfeit.
"I'm hungry now!" she cried. "I want to eat. I don't want to go home. I want to eat. Pleeeease - I'm hungry."
Maybe every parent momentarily wonders at this fork in the road, "What do I do now? Did I make my point? Did the threatened punishment do as I had hoped and now they are submitting to my authority?" I'm even certain I've seen many parents and kids even settle back in for a nice, uneventful dinner after the peak of tension passed and the kid(s) relented.
I hesitated for a moment, but pressed on with the due consequences. She was not obeying, she had not been submitting to my authority, she had crossed the line, I had already declared that we were in fact going home, and now we just needed to make it to the car with as much dignity left as humanly possible. So, kicking, screaming, crying, whining, we somehow made it out the door and into the car.
Later on, after making it home (yes - we did make it home in one piece) and getting her in bed for a much-needed rest, I contemplated the day. Did I do the right thing? What could I have done differently to have avoided that situation? How could I have responded differently at each turn? Did I lead her into rebellion or did she choose to go there all by herself? Truthfully, the most difficult part was having to sift through the embarrassment that I felt that my kid was putting her sinful, rebellious heart on display on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the middle of a restaurant filled with watchful eyes (many of whom were acquaintances), and likewise wondering what I had displayed to those same watchful eyes in the process. Did they think I made the right choice? What did they think I could have done differently to have avoided that situation? How do they think I could have responded differently at each turn? Did they think I led her into rebellion or that she chose to go there all by herself? To be honest, I probably gave more thought to the latter questions than the former, which is evident of my own sinful, prideful heart as well - even if they didn't see it in the restaurant.
After her nap and an opportunity for a fresh start, she gobbled up the rest of the taco. "Mommy, this is the best taco I've ever had," she said with a big smile.
Of course it is.
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