Behavior Boot Camp
Today the ugly happened. I've gone out of my way this summer to create fun adventures for our kids, to soak up the moments before fall rolls around and the boys are away at school. That prospect has infused every summer day with an odd mix of panic and a desire to make the most of the time, and a longing for fall and a regular routine. With so much fun happening, I expected our hours at home to be blissful, restful, times to recover peacefully before the next adventure. They've been anything but. Maybe I've packed our days too full, but I doubt it. We've had one or two outings a day, and I think we've balanced the time away with time in. Maybe they're bored with the things we have, but I doubt that too. They've gotten plenty of new playthings in the last few months and our beautiful yard holds endless activities.
I think it's actually two things. I wrote a long time ago about how I'd been starting each day with a simple prayer for peace in our home. Our days were not perfect as a result, but I knew that for five humans to get along in a home in any way, divine intervention was needed. Somewhere along the line, I've stopped praying that prayer. Maybe our days were peaceful for a while, or maybe it's just that there were other pressing needs that gradually edged that need out. Either way, I've stopped asking for peace.
And it shows. The words flying around this house have not been loving--the kids' words or, I'm ashamed to say, mine. The behavior has not been respectful. We have not been a family marked by our love for one another, our peaceful interactions, our joy at being together.
Things came to a head this morning. After the initial proud moments at soccer camp (Henry did an excellent job in his first soccer game, and Thomas went out and gave it his best in spite of wanting to do anything but play soccer this morning), things fell apart. We came home for a little quiet time (and to finally, hopefully, get a couple of loads of laundry done!!). It was war from the first moment. I fought battle after battle after battle, and finally, fed up, told them to put their shoes on. We were going to the store to buy socks for Henry--anything to get out of the house and stop the bickering! They all did well while we picked out some socks. Then I took them to the toy aisle so they could see and explore the things there. I should have known better. Amazingly, no one asked for things. But no one wanted to leave either. I nudged and reminded and finally physically removed them. Ugliness ensued. A yelling, cart-yanking, foot-stomping fit unbecoming to anyone. I scooped the offending child up, plopped him in the cart, put the socks back, and marched to the car. I have never had to leave items in a store before. The fit continued all the way to the car, where more punishment was handed out. Still, the tantrum continued. The misbehaving child was sent to bed for a nap without lunch--another event that has never happened in this house.
As I made lunch for the other two, I thought about things. Clearly, something needed to change. I remembered then the prayer I'd been in the habit of praying. Prayer is not a magic bullet. It's not a replacement for solid parenting. But neither can we, as humans, expect to make any great strides on our own. All the charts and systems and incentives in the world are not enough to change hearts. I need to be on my knees for my family, covering us in prayer, asking that I would be able to create an environment of peace, that I wouldn't exasperate my children, that they would respect us, and that we would be known by our love for each other.
The other thing I realized today is that behavior, like everything else under the sun, has its cycles. I'm not surprised, when I organize a closet, to find it in disarray again six months later. Nothing maintains itself in a steady state for long. Behavior is no different. There are good seasons, yes, but there are seasons of maintenance, of getting back to square one, too. Maybe it's time for all the charts and incentives and systems to go away for a while. Maybe it's time for behavior boot camp: to get back to the basics, respond swiftly with consequences, and tighten down on the things that have begun to slide. It's not fun. I would far rather fill our day with rewards and moments of grace. But grace is only grace when we understand what the consequences should have been. There will be room for lessons in grace later.
So it's boot camp time. It's going to be rough going for a little while, but worth every effort. Peace and respect and a family that is marked by love--those are things worth fighting for. Back to the barracks we go...
I think it's actually two things. I wrote a long time ago about how I'd been starting each day with a simple prayer for peace in our home. Our days were not perfect as a result, but I knew that for five humans to get along in a home in any way, divine intervention was needed. Somewhere along the line, I've stopped praying that prayer. Maybe our days were peaceful for a while, or maybe it's just that there were other pressing needs that gradually edged that need out. Either way, I've stopped asking for peace.
And it shows. The words flying around this house have not been loving--the kids' words or, I'm ashamed to say, mine. The behavior has not been respectful. We have not been a family marked by our love for one another, our peaceful interactions, our joy at being together.
Things came to a head this morning. After the initial proud moments at soccer camp (Henry did an excellent job in his first soccer game, and Thomas went out and gave it his best in spite of wanting to do anything but play soccer this morning), things fell apart. We came home for a little quiet time (and to finally, hopefully, get a couple of loads of laundry done!!). It was war from the first moment. I fought battle after battle after battle, and finally, fed up, told them to put their shoes on. We were going to the store to buy socks for Henry--anything to get out of the house and stop the bickering! They all did well while we picked out some socks. Then I took them to the toy aisle so they could see and explore the things there. I should have known better. Amazingly, no one asked for things. But no one wanted to leave either. I nudged and reminded and finally physically removed them. Ugliness ensued. A yelling, cart-yanking, foot-stomping fit unbecoming to anyone. I scooped the offending child up, plopped him in the cart, put the socks back, and marched to the car. I have never had to leave items in a store before. The fit continued all the way to the car, where more punishment was handed out. Still, the tantrum continued. The misbehaving child was sent to bed for a nap without lunch--another event that has never happened in this house.
As I made lunch for the other two, I thought about things. Clearly, something needed to change. I remembered then the prayer I'd been in the habit of praying. Prayer is not a magic bullet. It's not a replacement for solid parenting. But neither can we, as humans, expect to make any great strides on our own. All the charts and systems and incentives in the world are not enough to change hearts. I need to be on my knees for my family, covering us in prayer, asking that I would be able to create an environment of peace, that I wouldn't exasperate my children, that they would respect us, and that we would be known by our love for each other.
The other thing I realized today is that behavior, like everything else under the sun, has its cycles. I'm not surprised, when I organize a closet, to find it in disarray again six months later. Nothing maintains itself in a steady state for long. Behavior is no different. There are good seasons, yes, but there are seasons of maintenance, of getting back to square one, too. Maybe it's time for all the charts and incentives and systems to go away for a while. Maybe it's time for behavior boot camp: to get back to the basics, respond swiftly with consequences, and tighten down on the things that have begun to slide. It's not fun. I would far rather fill our day with rewards and moments of grace. But grace is only grace when we understand what the consequences should have been. There will be room for lessons in grace later.
So it's boot camp time. It's going to be rough going for a little while, but worth every effort. Peace and respect and a family that is marked by love--those are things worth fighting for. Back to the barracks we go...
