Being the Firefighter to Our Kids' Equivalent of a Burning House (eg, you looked at them the wrong way)

Hey y'all,

I have been meaning to make this "picture post" for a while. Some of you have been extremely
patient; some of you, not so much. You know who you are.

After two solid weeks of flooding to kick off the year, we were grateful for *nearly* an entire week of warm sunshine this past week. We took every advantage.

Now we are back to dreary, low-hanging clouds that block out the heat of the sun, only letting the North wind bite our skin. I'll be remembering these days this summer when I can't breathe because it's so hot and humid out.

I really want this post to be about pictures. But since they are pictures of my kids and our days lately, I do want to include a quick parenting encouragement/tip:

I, myself, am in the throws of parenting toddlerhood. Unbeknownst to you through the pictures, our days here at Cedar Creek are full of tears, fit-throwing, screaming at decibels that bats can't even pick out -- and then suddenly flipping a switch and flashing the cutest smile, wrestling and giggling, hugs, kisses, sweet story times. Jacob and I are getting major whiplash from the bipolar disorders going on around here. If they so much as look at each other across the room, screams can be heard throughout the neighborhood; but if I send one to time out, they are inseparable. Being the parent in this mess is at best, confusing and usually exasperating. It's hard to maintain patience.

I saw a close mom friend of mine put out an "SOS" signal over Facebook because she is right in the middle of such tyranny, as well. Our encouragement to each other, ladies, is that we're all in this together; not one of us is alone; and the older women are right on the money: these days don't last forever. So take a deep breath. Breathe. And let me share a metaphor that I was reminded of. I heard it through the Family Life Today podcast back when Katie reached the "terrible twos" early at 18 months:

Picture yourself, Mommy, as the firefighter. You are brave, resilient, courageous. You are mature, experienced, and not afraid to put out fires because it is your job.
Now, picture your toddler, who is in the middle of losing her mind over nothing at all. She is the victim stuck in a burning house. Her emotions are the fire raging all around her. She is not trained to deal with the fire. She is not yet experienced enough to even know how to get out of the burning house. She is stuck, and her screams are her cries for help.
Simply put, your job as the firefighter is to remain calm, and patiently put out the fire. You can do this because you have the proper tools: love, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control, etc. The fruits of the Spirit is the water you are pouring out onto the fire of emotions. The Spirit, the Helper, is your fire hose from which you get the water.

To take it a step further with older children:
Part of a firefighter's job is to also inform the community as far as safety precautions are concerned. Firefighters regularly instruct the rest of us in ways that we can help ourselves in dangerous situations. We can even learn to use such tools as will help us diffuse potential safety threats.

Teach your children from an early age how they can obtain the fruit of the Spirit to help themselves. Teach them about love. Teach them about gentleness. Teach them about self-control.

Right now, my children are too young to sit them down and discuss the concept of self-control. Instead, my most powerful tool in training them to become functioning people is my example. Instead of raising your voice, whisper or walk away or don't say anything at all or even just count to ten outloud so that they can hear you. They will learn from you how to handle heightened emotional situations.
It is a lot of pressure; but honestly, parenting is a lot of pressure. It's just part of the job.

This metaphor that helps us to understand how young children simply do not understand or possess self-control also helps us to maintain perspective on another count:

When your toddler is uncontrollable, it is not personal. They are simply reacting.

My own mother is constantly having to remind me of this because I am not a naturally patient person; and I take everything personally. I literally repeat this outloud to myself -- sometimes under my breath, sometimes over the top of the toddler -- so that I can remember her (or his, Mason) reaction to my discipline is not personal. It is simply them learning how to live in this world.

Now I get to go practice what I preach as Mason wakes up, once again, on the wrong side of the bed from nap time.
I'm not sure there is a right side to his bed...sigh.

(What I'd rather be doing.)