Time Out

While it's not hugely popular in today's society, I have never made apologies for the fact that I believe in spanking.  I absolutely do not believe in any form of abuse, but I most certainly believe in discipline.  The funny thing is that as strong-willed, often defiant and extremely stubborn as she is, we rarely ever spank Brynna.  Because of her personality, she needs to know that she made a choice, so that's what she gets.  She can discontinue her inappropriate behavior (throwing toys, blowing bubbles on my sofa or practicing her spitting in the kitchen) or she can go sit on the step.  It's her choice.  Often she tries not to choose, but she's learned after months of consistent discipline that no decision (and the continuation of said bubbles on my sofa) is the same as deciding to go to Time Out.  She's spent a lot of her two-and-a-half years on the step (my step, Yaya's step, Tania's step, Honey K's step and even once at the entrance of Steve Madden).  On rare occasions that she chooses to continue disobeying even after time on the step, the punishment has to increase so that she learns that every action has a consequence.

Our most recent battles have been waged in the arena of whining.  I'm not sure how every toddler has perfected the exact pitch of voice that sends his/her mother into hysteria, but they are skilled artisans.  How they can say something perfectly normal in a voice that shatters glass in three counties, I'm not sure, but they can.  And they do.  Brynna is no exception.  I'm convinced she sometimes doesn't even know that she's doing it.  It's like she zones out into another dimension where apparently people speak at 140 decibels.  Needless to say, we've spent a lot of time on the step.  After she has a few minutes to calm down, I sit beside her so we can talk about it.  (Side note: As a general rule, if you send a little one to time out, have the decency to GO TO THEM, talk ON THEIR LEVEL about why and LOVINGLY reassure them of your love.  If you send them away and then forget or call them back in to you, you've made no effort to parent and therefore, why would they make an effort to obey?  Sorry.  I just felt someone's toes.  I'll get off the soapbox.)  This weekend, as I sat next to Brynna at the bottom of the staircase in my parents' house, I asked if she knew why she had to go to Time Out.  She said she did.  She said, "Because I was whining and not talking like a big girl."  I asked if she could speak politely and tell me what she wanted.  Her response has stuck with me for days.  She said, "Yes.  Because I want to come be with you."

I had to acknowledge quite some time ago that Brynna did not get her temperament from her father, but instead from her strong-willed, often defiant and extremely stubborn mama.  And like my little bear cub, God lets me make choices and then consistently reminds me that every action has a consequence.  I have recently found myself whining - crying to God in a voice that I'm sure sends Him into parental hysteria at a decibel I'm sure all Heaven would like to tone down.  I have been lamenting my situation, recounting all the things I'm sad about.  Rather than making me feel better, though, all that whining made me feel worse.  The longer I cried, the more lonely I felt.  The louder I yelled, the angrier I became.  And when I had nothing left to say, I sat quietly and realized...God had put me in Time Out.  Of course I felt worse instead of better - He left the room.  Of course I didn't feel comfort - I chose to sit myself on the step, away from the presence of Someone who loves me.  And today my little girl's words are ringing in my ears.  She said she would learn to speak more appropriately because she wanted to be with me.  She realized that her choice was the only thing that separated her from me.  And the same is true for me.

As soon as she chose to obey, I was waiting with all the love her little self could contain.  I'm so grateful my Father waits for me...and you.  What are you whining about?  When you're ready, He's waiting with all the love your little self can contain.

My Sisters' Mother

She's all the things I want to be when I grow up - refined, poised, proper, wise and discerning.
She's the kind of mother I aspire to be - nurturing, unwavering, steady and strong.
She's a friend to those in need.
She's a comfort to those who mourn.
She has a way of drawing out the better person in you without making you feel small.
She won't gossip with you; she won't get all your references about pop culture.
She won't be your buddy because she knows what you need is more than that.
She won't compromise or change who she is.
Her presence is calming even if only felt through a phone call.
Her voice is solace; her faith is contagious.

She is not mine because I was born of her.
She is mine because she was shared.
She is my sisters' mother, and I am forever grateful to Tonya and Janay for sharing her with me.

Signs a toddler lives at your house

• You have abandoned paper towels, napkins, kleenex and other paper products and instead, just use Clorox wipes for everything
• You forget what you were going to say at least 3 times a day
• You mention, discuss or ask a question about bodily excrements at least once a day despite your most valiant efforts to avoid the subject
• You're tired
• You repeat yourself so often you start wondering if people really "didn't hear you"
• You have walked into a room recently and said, "What happened here?"
• You can hear through walls, up stairs and behind doors
• You're tired
• You sometimes wear a dirty article of clothing just so it's one less thing you have to wash
• You sometimes wear a dirty article of clothing because you didn't realize it was dirty until halfway through the day
• You sometimes wear a dirty article of clothing because even though you knew it was dirty, you didn't have the energy to change
• You wake up with the theme song to the Backyardigans stuck in your head
• You have found a sippy cup recently in your purse, car, briefcase and bathroom
• You're tired
• You sing the ABC's while you wash your hands
• You find yourself smiling when everyone else around you is frowning...because even in the worst of times you need only remember the night before to have something funny to laugh about

I asked...He answered

I moved to a new place and found myself feeling alone.  Without the friends who have come to know me better than I know myself, I had no one.  So I asked God…

I asked God to give me friends…and He didn’t.

     So I joined a book club.

I asked God to give me friends…and He didn’t.

     So I spent an entire afternoon with Him.

I asked God to give me friends…and He didn’t

     So I planned social events for my neighbors.

I asked God to give me friends…and He didn’t.

     So I had a conversation with a stranger.

I asked God to give me friends…and He didn’t.

     He gave me a reason to trust Him more.

     He gave me the space to look beyond myself.

     He gave me the motivation to meet new people.

     He gave me the time to listen.

     He gave me a perspective I never would have had otherwise.

I asked God to give me friends…and He didn’t in the way I wanted Him to.  Instead, He gave me more.

What are you asking God for?  What did He give you instead?  Have you even noticed?