Time for a Change

I’m raising a disobedient, spoiled-rotten thief.

That’s what I thought as I looked across the table at the screaming four-year-old,  standing on his head, snot dripping down his face.  It was supposed to be a fun time,  a special day of bonding between little Spitfire and me.   Instead, the script read like a Valentine’s nightmare.

He awoke from nap full of anticipation, not knowing where we were going, but happy just the same.   The plan was to go to Build-a-Bear and buy a new outfit for his favorite puppy, and then go to lunch, but when we got to the store he found a new little puppy he just couldn’t live without.    He named the dog Snuffy, and went through the whole process of bringing him to life.   We were having fun, and I even let him pick out an outfit for his new friend.  In line, he saw a little eraser that he wanted, and I agreed to get that too.   I rarely buy the boys any toys except for Christmas or their birthday, so it was fun to be able to say yes.

We hadn’t walked five steps out the door when the problems started.   Spitfire’s upper lip started to quiver; his nose flared.   It was the start of a full blown meltdown.  

“What’s wrong?  Is Snuffy okay?”  I asked.   He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

“What’s wrong with him?   Here let me take a look.”   I grabbed the pup, giving him a quick once over.    “Snuffy looks fine.   He’s happy to be going home with you.”   By this time, wails were coming with the tears.   He dropped to his knees in the the middle of mall.   It was hard to make out his words between the sobs.

“He, he, he doesnnnnn’t have a, a,  baaark . . .”   

Seriously?    I just said ‘yes’ to him more times then I have in the past year, and he is throwing a fit about the dog not getting the bark sound?   Oh, and having a fit he was.   He refused to get up and walk, and had to be carried out to the car.  

I should have gone home then, but I had promised we’d go out to lunch, so we went to his favorite hamburger joint.   I got him a cheeseburger and a milkshake. He decided not to eat the cheeseburger, and do a loud acrobatic number instead, sliding from one side of the booth to the other, talking in a sing-song voice that would rival the amplification of any microphone around.   I told him to stop.   I took away his puppy, and threatened he wouldn’t get him back.   I held him tightly in my lap, and tried to get him to eat.   

At home, Spitfire ran to his big brother, exclaiming, “I have something for you.”    A few minutes later, big brother comes to me holding a Build-a-Bear birthday gift card, saying, “I shouldn’t have this.   I think he stole it.”

And there he was, glaring at me through icy eyes, standing on his head, snot dripping down his face.  He feigned innocence.   For ten minutes he denied taking the gift card from the store, saying that he got it, “a long, long time ago.”  When the truth came out, he only apologized because I made him.

It occurred to me that this wasn’t just a bad parenting day, an isolated event.   My little guy’s attitude has been changing from bad to worse.   He’s made a habit of refusing to obey, whining is the main form of communication, and the dropping to his knees, refusing to walk is a daily occurrence.  I’ve gotten lax, letting little things slip here and there, without consistently disciplining, and the result was staring me in the face.  He thinks he rules the roost.

It is time for a change around these parts.   Changing the behavior is important, and will be a big focus over here, but more importantly, I want to get to his heart.   I want him to grow into a man of character, one who loves God and all of the people around him with his whole heart.    Achieving that kind of result is going to require my whole heart . . .  and a lot of prayer.  It won’t be easy, but God’s living Word says,  “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13