Ever consider what pets must think of us? I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul – chicken, pork, half a cow. They must think we’re the greatest hunters on earth! ~Anne Tyler, The Accidental Tourist
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My Works for Me Wednesday offering: Crowd control. Herding kittie cats. Roundin’ them up rawhide style. What works for keeping kiddos close when out in public? I like to get out of the house. Often that means taking the five kiddos with me. Organization is not only appreciated by fellow shoppers and zoo animal gawkers, it is imperitive for safety and sanity. At the suggestion of Heather the Laundress who happens to be a mom of six, I will share what works for me when public appearances are necessary. Our children have assigned spots next to grocery carts and the stroller. The two oldest flank the rear on either side, the two middle kids walk directly in front of the older kids, and our youngest either rides (if we are using the stroller) or walks in between a set of siblings if we are pushing a grocery cart. If it’s too crowded he “helps” me push the cart by walking in between me and the basket. I encourage them to hold the cart or stroller with one hand, but it isn’t a strict rule. As long as they walk along side, I am happy. When we enter a store, I say “places!” a la Fantasy Island’s very own Mr. Rourke when the planeload of B-list celebrities lands. Watching the kids line up with precison makes the trail boss in me think of Mr. Rourke’s other command: “Smiles!” It wasn’t hard to teach them to do this because kids are inherently like all explorers—they like to plant their flag and claim dominion over their little slice of anything. When the spaces are more wide open, I am more generous with granting the freedom to wander. I don’t always aspire to being the shopping version of the Von Trapp family—choreographed and in matching sweaters. I have boys who don’t always appreciate the complex scent of a mall hallway (leather + pretzel cheese). One trick I’ve learned to keep them organized when on the loose is to borrow phrases from the world of transportation. If the boys get too far ahead, I say “red light stop!” and whaddaya know? They stop. When we catch up I say “green light go!” and the trip to Cinnabon can continue. I was inspired to try this one day when I realized the boys were pretending to be cars driving on a strip of colored tile. Using their language and imagery they can grasp has helped tremendously. Both these methods of keeping kiddos close and mindful of their surroundings exploit what they are naturally inclined to appreciate—their own special place in the world (even if it happens to be by a grocery cart) and their imaginations. This is my first Works for Me Wednesday post. Each week I scour my brain for things that “work for me.” As a mom of five (almost six) kiddos, a lot of people assume I must be terribly organized and patient. They are mistaken. I maintain having all these kids helps me learn to be more organized and patient. I am so not there yet. My children are not angels. They say and do things they shouldn’t. I’ve recently witnessed my two youngest tap-dancing in a 32 ounce lake of Coke and crushed ice spilled all over the kitchen floor. The playroom walls once boasted having fifteen R2-D2s drawn in black marker by the capable hand of our seven year old. They’ve flushed the unflushable and broken the unbreakable. Kids can be maddening. Several years ago my husband and I were expressing to each other how easy it was to get angry quickly at even minor infractions. If we were tired, not feeling well, or generally stressed we reacted badly to our kids’ hijinks. We never hit them or verbally abused them—but we were unfair in punishments and found ourselves saying “no” to the most benign requests simply to save ourselves from the mere possibility of becoming angry. We didn’t want them to think the normal tone of our voices neared the decibel level of a space shuttle launch. Then one Sunday our pastor reminded us of this verse: A wrathful man stirs up strife, But he who is slow to anger allays contention. Proverbs 15:18 Slow. To. Anger. We were challenged by those words. If my husband saw signs of anger growing in me, he would simply whisper “slow to anger.” I did the same for him. Those three words were enough to inspire a deep breath and a lot of perspective. Was the fifth spilled milk incident of the day worth my negative energy? I didn’t have to be happy about having wads of milk-soaked towels lying around—I simply had to react how I’d want my children to react in their own frustrating situations. Calmly, with control, with perspective on the grand scheme of things. It’s not an easy thing. Over time, Slow To Anger became “Stay.” “Stay,” we say when red anger rushes up an unsmiling face. It isn’t a 100% solution, but it works better than the alternative. We aren’t always perfect with using “stay” but we try. Being “slow to anger” also acknowledges there is a time and place for anger. It’s a real emotion with power—something to be used only under control and only in situations that warrant decisive authority. Being slow to anger ensures that anger is appropriate. Anger isn’t a license to hurt anyone, however. We also hope this is a tool we can pass along to our kids. When they hear the word “stay” I pray they are reminded to be slow to anger too. |
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