Head Banging is Good for the Soul
My ten-year-old son, Pacey is playing baseball this spring and last night I made my second attempt to watch a game with my five-year-old and three-year-old daughters in tow. It's always hard to watch a game with two bored little girls sitting next to you. We got there early, so I started off by letting them play on the playground while the team warmed up. Once the game started, we made our way to the bleachers and I got to sit through one and a half innings convincing them that we would do something fun very soon. We walked to the concession stand and I bribed them with candy to sit there another half-inning. Turns out the more you pay for a bag of M&M's, the faster it gets eaten. That $1.50 bought me exactly 60 seconds of game time. (At least it seemed like it).
Eventually, the girls were too cold to sit outside anymore, so we walked back to the car and I decided to make good use of my time and check on my pregnant sister-in-law since we were away from the crowd. So we talked on the phone and our conversation went from pregnancy pains to teenagers and how they go through these phases where they think they know everything.
They turn thirteen and suddenly they are an expert on everything and it pretty much stays that way until they hit about twenty-five (or until they become a parent)! The conversation transitioned to how they have a hard time accepting responsibility for their own actions. We've seen a lot of examples from teens these days wanting to place the blame on someone else or their circumstances. Very rarely do you hear a teenager say, "Geeze, I really messed this up. I should have thought this through and made a more responsible decision. I am so sorry! I will do better next time!" Instead, they already have a list of excuses for their poor behavior. It is never their fault!
As we continued to talk, I shared my concern for my almost 9-year-old daughter. I think it is a concern that is weighing heavily on me because I'd also shared it with another friend earlier that day as I was looking at a book she bought on parenting with grace. As parents, we so want our kids to understand the impact their actions and choices can have on themselves and others and it's easy to get caught up in parenting tactics that are too harsh and full of rules to follow. But my friend shared with me how she actually took the time to record a moment when her son had snuck down and helped himself to some chocolate cake. She could have scolded him, but she ran upstairs and grabbed the camera. I thought back to the days Hannah did similar things. The times she got into everything and I recorded the moments, taking pictures and posting them on a blog. Oh, my expensive Olay, thrown right down the toilet, bottle and all! Those days were frustrating, yet cute. She was only two.
But now Hannah still has a hard time connecting consequences to her actions. "Sometimes, she just doesn't even care! I just want her to get it!" I told my sister-in-law. She is a hard-headed free spirit and sometimes I wish I were more like her. Other times, I said, "I just want to bang my head against the wall."
Our phone conversation ended as the teams lined up to shake hands and we rushed home so that Scott could run inside for an 8:30 phone call. We are still in limbo with this whole Pringles thing and waiting to hear where exactly we are going to end up living and what kind of position Scott will have with the new company. There is so much uncertainty, so needless to say, he is keeping other options open and this phone call was important.
Pacey was very curious about why his dad rushed out of the car and into his office, so I simply told him that he had an important phone call and that he'd be out when he was done. I began heating up a late dinner of leftover Jet's Pizza in the oven. (Yum!) While I was waiting I walked down the hall and saw Pacey sitting on the stairs, listening to his dad's booming voice seep through the cracks of his office door. He is so perceptive and inquisitive, and probably knows more about our situation than I'd like for him to know at this point, but my first reaction to finding him there being so..."inquisitive" was to tease him.
He startled a little when he saw me approach and I whispered, "What are you doing?" He replied that he was just hanging out on the stairs and I laughed and pointed at him and signed (in my own little language), "You. Are. Nosey!" I spun around and took a giant step down the hall when, "WHAM!" Little cuckoo birds were spinning above my head!
Pacey jumped up and asked, "Are you okay?!?" I stumbled back a little and looked up. The basement door had been left open about 8 inches and I had just pummeled my head right into it. I put my hand on the sore spot and felt a little bump. I walked away as some not-so-wholesome words came spewing out of my mouth. I'd like to say I was out of my mind, but I did manage to remove myself from the kids as I just whispered them. Already, my mind was convicting me as I grabbed a wash cloth and ice and placed it on my head. Is it my dazed head's fault Icouldn't wouldn't keep my mouth quiet when I was thinking those bad words? Did I really just justify it and feel better about myself because I only whispered them?
I walked into the bathroom and took a look at my throbbing head.
So that is why my head hurt so bad! Immediately, I started to think about why this happened. That darn basement door! I knew exactly who left it open and do you know how many times I've told the kids to keep it shut? I stomped over to Hannah, removed my home-made ice pack and cried, "Do you see this? THIS is why I've told you to close the basement door, Hannah! This is your fault!" I stomped off again as Hannah started crying.
Then I went in the bathroom and reinspected my head-wound. It appeared to be growing. Suddenly my neck hurt, my head was getting a dull ache, and my vision was slightly blurry. I tried to sit it out a couple minutes but every time I looked in the mirror it kept getting bigger. I don't know if I would have felt as out of it if I hadn't seen the bump, but seeing it grow did not help. Fear crept in as I thought about the possibility of a concussion. What if I pass out while Scott is on the phone? The kids will freak out!
I finally walked over to his office door and tried to open it, but it was locked. Great. I knocked. I heard him pause, and then continue to talk. He thought I was one of the kids, so I knocked again. And again. Finally, he swung the door open ready to scold a kid and saw me standing there. I lifted the cloth and showed him my growing second head.
I figured it would be better for me to just sit on the floor where he could keep an eye on me while he finished his interview than to depend on the kids to determine if I needed to go the the Urgent Care clinic. But my awesome husband was too concerned and asked if he could call the lady right back. He took me back to the bathroom and examined the wound, my eyes, asked me some questions. Dr. Wallace to the rescue!
He determined I'd be okay, ordered me to sit down and chill and he went back to his office. I ate a little bit of humble pie as I thought I heard him tell the lady that his wife walked into a door. Awesome!
As I sat at the dining room table, Beka finally decided to take off her shoes and placed them right by my feet. Poor Addison is such a mother hen, she immediately scolded Beka saying, "Beka! Don't leave your shoes on the floor! Mom could trip on them and break her neck!" I busted out laughing. Oh my, this is getting funny.
But Addison was offended. "Why are you laughing at me?"
"I'm not!" I explained. "Do you really think I'm that fragile?" She started to giggle as she looked at my bumpy head. No need to answer that question!
Throughout the night, the humor of this entire event continued to grow. I'm convinced God has a sick sense of humor and I so love it! Sometimes He just knows that it takes a good laugh to get me thinking about my perspective and words so I can change:
Didn't I just say I get so frustrated with Hannah that sometimes I want to bang my head on the wall? Well, something tells me I don't want to do that again! "Obviously, responding to her in frustration is not the answer." Ouch!
And what did I do as soon as it happened? I acted like a teenager! Oh...pleeeeeeease stop feeding me this awful humble pie!
"Do you see this? THIS is why I've told you to close the basement door, Hannah!" It was all her fault!
As soon as I realized what I did, I walked over to Hannah and apologized, "Hannah, I am so sorry I blamed you for hitting my head. It is NOT at all your fault. I should have been watching where I was going." I hugged her and reassured her again that it was NOT her fault.
Turns out even adults want to transfer the blame and make excuses for their mistakes. I hit my head because I wasn't watching where I was going and I immediately sought out what someone else did to cause it all to happen. Maybe I should keep my head up, eyes wide open, and pay attention to where I am going!
So it turns out the joke is on me and the lessons are learned! Stop judging others (even those darn teenagers!), watch my words (because it may just happen and I might not really mean what I say), don't react in frustration when my kids don't get it right away, (turns out a little humor and grace might be the answer - thank you, God for getting that through my hard, bumpy noggin!), and take responsibility for my own actions and choices!
This morning I woke up and the bump is nearly gone. It still hurts to the touch, but not even a bruise! I walked down the stairs and the kids came rushing in to check on my head.
"Your head looks all better!" Addison exclaimed.
Addison had prayed for me last night, so I told her that her prayers worked! Then Hannah came up to me later and said, "Mom, I prayed for you for a very long time last night. I was in my bed, and I just kept praying and praying until I finally fell asleep."
Warmth filled my heart as I realized that maybe she and I are more alike than I thought. It seems we are both a little hard-headed when it comes to changing our ways. But at the end of the day, we are both learning to give our concerns to God. Ah, my hard-headed, free spirited daughter, you are going to be okay! I will work harder to lead you to truth with less frustration and more humor and grace! There you were alone in the dark and you took the time to pray for me even after I scolded you! You did it without any prompting from anyone else...and you are not even nine-years-old yet. You are getting it, you are amazing, you are teaching me, and I love you!
Eventually, the girls were too cold to sit outside anymore, so we walked back to the car and I decided to make good use of my time and check on my pregnant sister-in-law since we were away from the crowd. So we talked on the phone and our conversation went from pregnancy pains to teenagers and how they go through these phases where they think they know everything.
They turn thirteen and suddenly they are an expert on everything and it pretty much stays that way until they hit about twenty-five (or until they become a parent)! The conversation transitioned to how they have a hard time accepting responsibility for their own actions. We've seen a lot of examples from teens these days wanting to place the blame on someone else or their circumstances. Very rarely do you hear a teenager say, "Geeze, I really messed this up. I should have thought this through and made a more responsible decision. I am so sorry! I will do better next time!" Instead, they already have a list of excuses for their poor behavior. It is never their fault!
As we continued to talk, I shared my concern for my almost 9-year-old daughter. I think it is a concern that is weighing heavily on me because I'd also shared it with another friend earlier that day as I was looking at a book she bought on parenting with grace. As parents, we so want our kids to understand the impact their actions and choices can have on themselves and others and it's easy to get caught up in parenting tactics that are too harsh and full of rules to follow. But my friend shared with me how she actually took the time to record a moment when her son had snuck down and helped himself to some chocolate cake. She could have scolded him, but she ran upstairs and grabbed the camera. I thought back to the days Hannah did similar things. The times she got into everything and I recorded the moments, taking pictures and posting them on a blog. Oh, my expensive Olay, thrown right down the toilet, bottle and all! Those days were frustrating, yet cute. She was only two.
But now Hannah still has a hard time connecting consequences to her actions. "Sometimes, she just doesn't even care! I just want her to get it!" I told my sister-in-law. She is a hard-headed free spirit and sometimes I wish I were more like her. Other times, I said, "I just want to bang my head against the wall."
Our phone conversation ended as the teams lined up to shake hands and we rushed home so that Scott could run inside for an 8:30 phone call. We are still in limbo with this whole Pringles thing and waiting to hear where exactly we are going to end up living and what kind of position Scott will have with the new company. There is so much uncertainty, so needless to say, he is keeping other options open and this phone call was important.
Pacey was very curious about why his dad rushed out of the car and into his office, so I simply told him that he had an important phone call and that he'd be out when he was done. I began heating up a late dinner of leftover Jet's Pizza in the oven. (Yum!) While I was waiting I walked down the hall and saw Pacey sitting on the stairs, listening to his dad's booming voice seep through the cracks of his office door. He is so perceptive and inquisitive, and probably knows more about our situation than I'd like for him to know at this point, but my first reaction to finding him there being so..."inquisitive" was to tease him.
He startled a little when he saw me approach and I whispered, "What are you doing?" He replied that he was just hanging out on the stairs and I laughed and pointed at him and signed (in my own little language), "You. Are. Nosey!" I spun around and took a giant step down the hall when, "WHAM!" Little cuckoo birds were spinning above my head!
Pacey jumped up and asked, "Are you okay?!?" I stumbled back a little and looked up. The basement door had been left open about 8 inches and I had just pummeled my head right into it. I put my hand on the sore spot and felt a little bump. I walked away as some not-so-wholesome words came spewing out of my mouth. I'd like to say I was out of my mind, but I did manage to remove myself from the kids as I just whispered them. Already, my mind was convicting me as I grabbed a wash cloth and ice and placed it on my head. Is it my dazed head's fault I
I walked into the bathroom and took a look at my throbbing head.
So that is why my head hurt so bad! Immediately, I started to think about why this happened. That darn basement door! I knew exactly who left it open and do you know how many times I've told the kids to keep it shut? I stomped over to Hannah, removed my home-made ice pack and cried, "Do you see this? THIS is why I've told you to close the basement door, Hannah! This is your fault!" I stomped off again as Hannah started crying.
Then I went in the bathroom and reinspected my head-wound. It appeared to be growing. Suddenly my neck hurt, my head was getting a dull ache, and my vision was slightly blurry. I tried to sit it out a couple minutes but every time I looked in the mirror it kept getting bigger. I don't know if I would have felt as out of it if I hadn't seen the bump, but seeing it grow did not help. Fear crept in as I thought about the possibility of a concussion. What if I pass out while Scott is on the phone? The kids will freak out!
I finally walked over to his office door and tried to open it, but it was locked. Great. I knocked. I heard him pause, and then continue to talk. He thought I was one of the kids, so I knocked again. And again. Finally, he swung the door open ready to scold a kid and saw me standing there. I lifted the cloth and showed him my growing second head.
I figured it would be better for me to just sit on the floor where he could keep an eye on me while he finished his interview than to depend on the kids to determine if I needed to go the the Urgent Care clinic. But my awesome husband was too concerned and asked if he could call the lady right back. He took me back to the bathroom and examined the wound, my eyes, asked me some questions. Dr. Wallace to the rescue!
He determined I'd be okay, ordered me to sit down and chill and he went back to his office. I ate a little bit of humble pie as I thought I heard him tell the lady that his wife walked into a door. Awesome!
As I sat at the dining room table, Beka finally decided to take off her shoes and placed them right by my feet. Poor Addison is such a mother hen, she immediately scolded Beka saying, "Beka! Don't leave your shoes on the floor! Mom could trip on them and break her neck!" I busted out laughing. Oh my, this is getting funny.
But Addison was offended. "Why are you laughing at me?"
"I'm not!" I explained. "Do you really think I'm that fragile?" She started to giggle as she looked at my bumpy head. No need to answer that question!
Throughout the night, the humor of this entire event continued to grow. I'm convinced God has a sick sense of humor and I so love it! Sometimes He just knows that it takes a good laugh to get me thinking about my perspective and words so I can change:
Didn't I just say I get so frustrated with Hannah that sometimes I want to bang my head on the wall? Well, something tells me I don't want to do that again! "Obviously, responding to her in frustration is not the answer." Ouch!
And what did I do as soon as it happened? I acted like a teenager! Oh...pleeeeeeease stop feeding me this awful humble pie!
"Do you see this? THIS is why I've told you to close the basement door, Hannah!" It was all her fault!
As soon as I realized what I did, I walked over to Hannah and apologized, "Hannah, I am so sorry I blamed you for hitting my head. It is NOT at all your fault. I should have been watching where I was going." I hugged her and reassured her again that it was NOT her fault.
Turns out even adults want to transfer the blame and make excuses for their mistakes. I hit my head because I wasn't watching where I was going and I immediately sought out what someone else did to cause it all to happen. Maybe I should keep my head up, eyes wide open, and pay attention to where I am going!
So it turns out the joke is on me and the lessons are learned! Stop judging others (even those darn teenagers!), watch my words (because it may just happen and I might not really mean what I say), don't react in frustration when my kids don't get it right away, (turns out a little humor and grace might be the answer - thank you, God for getting that through my hard, bumpy noggin!), and take responsibility for my own actions and choices!
This morning I woke up and the bump is nearly gone. It still hurts to the touch, but not even a bruise! I walked down the stairs and the kids came rushing in to check on my head.
"Your head looks all better!" Addison exclaimed.
Addison had prayed for me last night, so I told her that her prayers worked! Then Hannah came up to me later and said, "Mom, I prayed for you for a very long time last night. I was in my bed, and I just kept praying and praying until I finally fell asleep."
Warmth filled my heart as I realized that maybe she and I are more alike than I thought. It seems we are both a little hard-headed when it comes to changing our ways. But at the end of the day, we are both learning to give our concerns to God. Ah, my hard-headed, free spirited daughter, you are going to be okay! I will work harder to lead you to truth with less frustration and more humor and grace! There you were alone in the dark and you took the time to pray for me even after I scolded you! You did it without any prompting from anyone else...and you are not even nine-years-old yet. You are getting it, you are amazing, you are teaching me, and I love you!
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