Discipline

Oh, how I disdain disciplining my child. I know it is necessary... I know he's just a little sinner that needs some coaxing in his quasi-effort to become a reasonable human being. But it just sucks.

It sucks to tell him that he's being a bad boy and have him look me in the eye, crying "I not want you to say that", genuinely emotionally upset that I'm telling him that he isn't acting nicely. It sucks to smack him on the hand and have him cry "That not feel good, I not want you to do that". It sucks to remove privileges from him.

He's somewhat of an emotional wreck because he has a little sister now. He used to get Mommy's full attention, all day, every day. Now, he doesn't, and he's trying to figure out how to survive in a life in which he isn't the only featured attraction anymore. Unsure of what to do, he acts out. And I have to discipline him. Because I love him. It just sucks.

Tonight, as we were leaving our home church group, he disobeyed. When told that he disobeyed, he disobeyed again. When I went to physically remove him from his disobedient situation, he kicked me, which required immediate discipline on the spot in the front yard with everyone watching. Which sucked.

Then we came home. It was time for bed, so his job was to go upstairs with me and get his teeth brushed and et cetera bedtime stuff. It was time to stop playing with toys. He refused to stop playing. He refused to go upstairs. So I forced him. Once upstairs, he refused to let me brush his teeth. So I put the toothbrush/paste away. Of course, NOW he wanted me to brush his teeth. Then he refused to let me get his nighttime clothes on... et cetera...

I was going to strangle him, so Robyn and I traded children. Seriously, if I didn't already think that God designed life with children to include 2 parents living together under the same roof... Of course, Robyn handed me a calm Aimee who immediately started screaming upon arrival into my arms. So now I had 2 children that I wanted to strangle. I finally got her calm when Robyn said "Toby wants YOU to put him to bed." Of course, NOW he does.

I handed Robyn a calm Aimee and went into Tobe's room. I told him to turn on his fan and his nightlight, but he refused, and ran in a sort of manic panic to Mommy in the other room. He wanted ME to put him to bed, and then he RAN AWAY from me?! "Just pick him up, he needs somebody to control him," Robyn said. He refused to take a nap earlier, so he was exhausted. He didn't even know what he was doing.

I picked him up. He fought me at first. He tried to wiggle free from my grasp. I turned on his nightlight and his fan and I held him during a little evening storytime ("Tell me about my day, Daddy") when he would have normally sat in his chair. He really wanted me to set him down, as I was messing up the routine. But I didn't set him down. And then...

...he went limp in my arms. He was still very much awake, but he finally got to a point when he just rested in my arms. It was like he knew it was what he needed. It's like he knew he needed to just be contained and held by the one who loves him more than anyone else does. It's like he just needed his Daddy to pick him up and help him rest.

"Jesus, please help Toby to rest well tonight. Help him to relax and fall asleep quickly and stay asleep all night, so that his strength can be restored. Thank You for him, for this wonderful boy who cannot be replaced. Thank You for giving Toby to Mommy and Daddy. Our strongest prayer is that Toby will one day know and confess that he is a sinner who needs a Savior and that he would live for you, Jesus. Sow seeds into his heart now, and we ask that Your Spirit will harvest him when Your time is right. Help his Mommy and Daddy parent him in such a way that points him toward You. In Your holy name I pray, amen. Night night, big boy. I love you. Sleep tight, see you soon."

It's like God knew that Toby needed his Daddy, and that Daddy needed his Toby. I wanted to strangle him. Instead, I rescued him from himself and prayed with him, the way we always do. It's like God gave me this little terrible-two-year-old reminder of what's important.