Pride isn’t just a sin; it’s a curse. For me, this came as quite a surprise. They didn’t teach it in Psychology 101. They didn’t teach it in the parenting classes offered at the hospital. It wasn’t in any one of the dozens of books I thumbed through when we were preparing to be parents. I didn’t even get a polite “heads up” from any of the experienced parents I’ve come to know over the years. This lesson, I had to learn the hard way.
I’ve discovered the fastest way to get my kids to misbehave is to brag about how smart, wonderful, and well-behaved they are. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a coincidence. I was sitting in the floor writing a letter to a friend. I had just completed a sentence that said something about how well Cooper was doing adjusting to a new house and a new town and how he really is “such a good kid.” Not a second and a half later, he rounded the corner, looked directly in my eyes, and punched me square in the face. No kidding. Doubled up fist and all.
After the shock of it wore off (and we both stopped crying) I thought surely it was the biggest coincidence ever. I didn’t realize that for my kids and me, it was no fluke; it was a guarantee. A curse.
Some time later, I was telling someone how good Cooper is about staying away from my desk and computer, even though I know he’s tempted by all the cool buttons and pictures that float across the screen. The next day I found something sticky next to the key pad of the laptop. I couldn’t figure out what it was. Then I remembered seeing him hiding on the back side of my computer chair. I looked down only to see a lidless, half-eaten glue stick lying on the floor. Thank goodness the label said non-toxic.
Even the baby has been affected by the curse. I was bragging to someone about how he is just the best sleeper. “Why, he’ll sleep 12 hours a night and still take a two hour nap!” I know now what a mistake that was. Sleep is the one sacred subject about which a parent should never brag. I guess I’m still a rookie. Needless to say, we are back to shorter nights, shorter naps, and sometimes even a middle of the night fit.
Weeks later, I bragged about how Cooper loves going to Bible class and of course about how well he behaves while he is there. Shortly after that, he started refusing to go to class, clinging to my leg when I’d take him to the door and crying like he was scared of his own shadow. Soon after, we had VBS, which was not what I’d call a raving success either.
Over the summer he had gotten much better, and was even asking to go to Bible class on days when we didn’t have it. I was so proud that I forgot to hold my tongue and again, let the curse cast its spell.
It happened the day he went to VBS at Grandmother’s church. He’d had such fun and behaved so saintly that when he said he wanted to ride the church van with “that nice lady” I allowed him to go, not thinking twice about it. Upon his return I discovered that “that nice lady” had to pull to the side of the road and stop the van to re-buckle my little angel, who had taken it upon himself to unbuckle, spit, and bite some little girl on the cheek, all within minutes of leaving the church building. Of course my first instinct was to ask what the other kid did to provoke him. Surely he was being teased or taunted in some intolerable way for him to have behaved so appallingly! But then I remembered…the curse.
I know there must be a more effective way for a mother to show that she is proud of her children. Maybe these incidents are lessons; God’s way of putting a proud parent in her place. Maybe subconsciously a mother’s bragging is her way of trying to prove to herself that she’s doing a good job being a mom. Or maybe some of us just have really bad luck. Maybe as parents, what we ought to do is talk a little less, love a little more, and laugh a little more often. Maybe that is the perfect remedy.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
No comments:
Post a Comment