Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Whose plan was this, anyway?

You know, I just wanted to get up and get school done today. We have an appointment at 2, and then AWANA tonight--we can't start late today. Can't things run like clockwork just because I want it?! (Ironically, when we DID finally get to school, we read Can't You Make Them Behave, King George, about George the Third and his trouble with America. He couldn't make the Americans fit into his neat and orderly plan either!)

So what was it that landed my daughter in tears (leading to lesson # 47 on women for my son--"was it something I said?" "No dear, sometimes girls are going to cry and you can't do anything about it, just make sure your words and actions are kind." This wasn't in MY curriculum today! But an important life lesson, I suppose, worth the digression).

The issue at hand? The top of our Christmas Tree. The one waiting in the closet to be put up. (The kids want it up yesterday, I want the leaves raked & some things done around the house first...) Since about September, Anna has been drawing stars in the margins of her math papers. Nighttime stars, Christmas trees with stars... "Stars, yay! Angels boo." It's not that she doesn't like angels--she just wants a star on the top of the Christmas tree.

I can relate. I grew up with a star on top of the tree. Something about a star on top seems right to me. Zac likes our angel. I made that angel before he was born. It's lovingly wrapped in tissue and placed in its own box each year to keep it fresh-looking. Zac likes to think that Mom made that angel. He likes tradition (hm...things to run like clockwork?). He likes angels and thinking about them protecting us. He likes the angel on top of our tree, and doesn't want a star.

This morning, instead of eating breakfast, the kids cut up a cardboard box. Zac was drawing a nativity scene. With a very large angel. Anna was perfecting her star. Scientifically mapping out how to make the sides exactly even, the lines straight. Planning how to cover it to make it shiny. Wondering how to attach it to the tree. And the tension was building.

Where's the wisdom of Solomon when you need it? Somehow I didn't think half a star & half an angel on top of the tree was going to solve this one. Put the angel on top & mount the star from the ceiling? Maybe. Put my foot down, say enough, we'll just keep the angel? No, that would seem like I'm choosing sides I could hear them arguing as I put laundry in the dryer. I said a quick prayer and returned to the craft-works kitchen.

Slowly, and quietly I said, "I have to talk to you children. I don't know what we're going to do about this Christmas tree topper. But we can't have this fighting. I'd rather not put up the tree than turn our Christmas season, which is supposed to be about peace and remembering why Jesus came to us, and love, and joy--into a season of fighting. Someone is going to have to give in, and not just outwardly, begrudgingly, but truly in their heart, give in and be happy about it."

That's when Anna's eyes filled with tears and she left the room. Oh yeah, we'll be getting to school REAL soon today! Were these heartbroken tears? Manipulative tears? I wasn't sure. After my little talk about women with Zac, he paused and asked, "Can I make a star for the tree too?"

ARGH! Is that what this was about?! "If you are feeling left out because Anna isn't including you in her plans to make a star, then you need to talk to her about that." Lightbulb. "I guess that IS what's bothering me about this." "Ok, well...go talk to her. You have 10 minutes and then we REALLY need to start school!"

They worked it out, the kids got breakfast, school got done, and they all lived happily ever after ...until Mom's next mental breakdown...

Merry :-)


Sally said...

I know it is hard when you are in the middle of it and you want to pull your hair out at the roots...but these are the very moments that I really MISS now that we aren't homeschooling...the moments that give you to teach those life lessons that do SO much more for them than math, or history, or science. The time you get to mold their character is priceless and it is a commodity that is precious and not easy to come by when you don't have your children full time. I know it sounds crazy but truly that is what I miss the most. Cherish the hard times because that is the sandpaper that is softening the edges of your children and polishing them into the shiny stars that WILL glorify God in a big way someday!! Love you!!

Merry said...

Very true Sally, thanks! I think I would miss that time too :-) Merry :-)