I think my mother-in-law uses this term, a “No Thank You” day, to refer to one of those days that for whatever reason, someone just isn’t happy. Someone else might describe it as waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but you get the idea. Today was that kind of day around my house.
I woke up before my preschooler. I got out of bed, was brushing my teeth in a pretty good mood. Then she woke up. And that was pretty much the end of that. After a “good morning, Mommy” full of the promise of sunshine, she pretty much rained on my parade the rest of the day.
She didn’t want to eat her yogurt. It was apparently gross, and by gross I mean absolutely nothing wrong with it, but she wasn’t allowed to watch Sesame Street until it was gone, so it became a battle.
Then she wanted a drink, but not any of the actual choices we had available, including water. Then she couldn’t remember how to make her bed. I know she is only four, but every day for the past couple of weeks, I walk her through how to do it, tell her just to do her best, and that it doesn’t have to be perfect. Today she refused to make the bed, like sat down in a huff and full on pitched a fit, a screaming crying jag because she didn’t know how to make her bed. I sat with her, talked her, and walked her through it again, but literally every second was a total battle. I was so tempted to do it for her.
But I knew if I let it go this one day for the sake of ease, she’d be ten before she ever made her bed again. Absolute consistency is key for my child. One moment of weakness and she’s on that like the lion on the weak gazelle, so I pressed onward, determined to hug her, smile and move past this momentary blip in our day. Ha ha, we call this irony ’round here, folks, because that was nothing compared to the rest of the day.
Then I asked her to get dressed. She is four. She’s been dressing herself for over a year (mostly). She still doesn’t do buttons, but she can put on her pants, shirts, and shoes (even if they’re on the wrong feet). She sat, in her panties, not the clean ones, screaming that she didn’t know how to put on her shirt.
1 Corinthians 10:13 “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”
I stood staring at her in complete shock and frustration several times today. And I had to choose to handle her in the Godly way I am modeling. She deserved my anger, but not my sin. Her meltdowns were not my fault. She was making her own poor choices. My reactions to her were my responsibility. I had done all I knew how to do.
I fed her, got her something to drink, gave her a hug, checked her forehead. When there was nothing obviously wrong that I could correct, I had to let her suffer the consequences of her choices. She got harsh words and time outs, toys put up, and spent a lot of time being talked to today.
2 Corinthians 10:3-5 “For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ,”
I was waging war against Satan today, in my home, in my child, and in my heart. I had to choose to take control of my anger (even though justified) because in my anger I didn’t want to sin. A few times, I needed to apologize and ask her forgiveness for getting too loud, but I was able to mostly just let the day go. It wasn’t going well, but if all I could do was fix my reaction to it, then that is what I was going to do. I had the armor of God to take every thought captive.
The older of the children we babysat is very much like my child, so much so that they are either best friends or tattling and bossing each other around. The one time they did play nicely for an extended period of time, turns out they were dumping sand from the sandbox around the yard and throwing it at the dogs. And as I snagged my child, running with her alligator scooper full of sand toward our yellow lab, who was pretty sure this was the most amazing game ever, I noticed she had sand all over her face.
“What did you do?”
“I ate some, Mommy,” she beamed proudly.
“Why?”I asked incredulously.
“To try it.”
“And was it tasty?”
I’m in hysterics now thinking about this. We watch a lot of cooking shows, and we encourage her to always try new things, so I guess I shouldn’t assume that she knows sand is gross, but we had another talk about how food is the only thing that goes into her mouth. Which we had again after she put Epsom salt crystals from a science experiment into her mouth. I think they are edible, but they are a laxative, so not recommended snacking.
I was trying to balance our checking account, watch a climbing one year old, supervise two energetic four-year-olds, and was dealing with all the intensity of their tattling, squabbling, or colluding against me, with the stress of a broken computer, shattered iPhone screen, a credit card bill that is higher than I’d hoped. I wanted to text my husband and complain. I wanted to be angry all over someone, darn it. I chose not to. I have no idea what kind of day he’d had, what mood he was in, and had a choice to suck it up and deal or make his whole drive home full of stress about what he was going to find when he got home, make him angry before he even walked in the door. That wasn’t the tone I wanted to set for our evening.
I was nearly in tears by the time her father got home. I spent some quiet time, just in thought and prayer to handle this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. All I could think was that I was just giving a friend advice about this kind of day last night. I need to practice what I preach. My daughter’s struggles were frustrating, and continued through dinner and bath time, but were not about me. My job was to maintain consistent rules and consequences and not bash my head against a wall.
Romans 5:3-5 “More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
Ask most moms about praying for patience and they will look at you horrified – NEVER, I mean, never pray for patience. God doesn’t give you patience. He gives you the opportunity to practice it. Praying to be a good parent is kind of the same thing. Better be prepared to learn quickly.
My daughter is only 4. This day will be far from the last tough day or far from the worst day we will ever face. Today was part of giving us endurance, producing character, and giving us hope in that He will always provide the strength to avoid temptation and to persevere through the most difficult challenges using His divine armor, not our own strength.
At the end of this “No Thank You” day, she refused to pick up her toys in her bathtub because she was too tired. I said that was unfortunate, and she could just throw them in the trash so she would never have to pick them up again. When she saw I was holding a trash can next to the tub, she picked them up. Then she started dancing in the tub, and I reminded her that we don’t play in the tub because she could slip and fall. Then it was another round of I forgot how to brush my teeth, then her Fancy Nancy nightgown and stories. She picked a story about two best friends who don’t get along all the time because they have to share and are both bossy – PERFECT, used it as a teachable moment. Then we said her prayers and asked forgiveness for being naughty and thank you for friends coming to play, and for healing for a sick friend, and for the cat to close her eyes because we are praying, Amen.
A kiss, a hug, a goodnight, don’t let the bedbugs bite and today was over. I didn’t get it all right, but with God’s strength, nudges, and love, I got it a whole lot more right than I ever could have imagined a few years ago. Phew, gonna pray for coffee tomorrow, with a chance of grace – that couldn’t backfire, could it?