The Parable of the Band-Aid

So, my son was upset and scared about his band-aid that was half off.  He scraped his knee at camp a few days ago and the band-aid was falling off, the wound was looking good.  It was time to come off.  I offered to help, but he screamed and fled in tears while flailing.

(Side note: with his sister, I told her that Nutella would get her band-aid off easily.  She fell for it.  I put Nutella on a cotton ball, which allowed me to get close enough to her band-aid to rip it quickly.  She had the funniest stunned look on her face-knowing that she had been duped.  But no tears.  No pain.  It was over and she was fine.)

But the boy was freaking out.  Did I mention this was in public?  At the community pool?  Yeah, I had the eyes of Westfield’s moms watching and listening to everything.  Probably wondering what I was doing to my boy that upset him and caused him to say, “I don’t want toooo!” as tears fell. As he pushed away from me and sobbed.

I told him to get out of the pool until he pulled it off.  I had a knot in my stomach.  Sure, some was selfishly from embarrassment.  But some was also out of feeling bad for my boy.  He was SO scared of the pain he expected and I knew that it would be over in an instant.  I tried to reason with him.  I told him he had the power to end the suffering (maybe I didn’t use those words).

“You can do it!”

“The pain will be gone in a few seconds.”

“You are wasting precious pool time.”

It didn’t help.  He wanted to go home.  I didn’t want to punish his sister by leaving early so we waiting awhile before leaving.

Sigh.  Parenting is hard.  I could have easily used force or trickery to get it off, but felt it was important for him to do it.

I have things in my life that I should do, but keep putting off.  I procrastinate.

I expect the worst.  I don’t want to deal with the brief and minor pain.  I get worked up.

I avoid confrontation.

I know God looks down at us often and thinks, “If he would only make that decision now, things would get better.”

“If she would just do it and get it over with, the tears and drama could end.”

I can’t fathom how frustrating it must be for God.

What are you putting off?

You probably need to bite the bullet and just do something.

Maybe it’s asking for forgiveness and apologizing.

Maybe it’s asking for help.

Maybe it’s confessing sin.

DO IT!

GET IT OVER WITH!  It won’t be as bad as you think, and even if it is, doing the right thing is often hard.

Christian Parenting FAIL

First, my girl:

In the middle of our once a month singing service, she came to me and asked, “Are you going to preach today?”

When I replied, “no,” her face lit up and she rejoiced as if I had said we were going to Chuck E Cheese.

And my son:

He has had an alarm clock in his room this school year (hasn’t really helped) and the clearest radio station is a Christian one.  Not Chris Tomlin or Casting Crowns, but choirs and KJV readings.  We are trying to avoid the news as much as bad music.

One morning my boy complained, “why is my radio always playing Jesus music in the morning?”

Sigh.

Presidential Trivia and my Son

My boy has a new obsession and I couldn’t be prouder.  Although I doubt he has given up his Hess Truck hobby, the latest thing is Facts about Presidents.  He continues to try and “stump” me with trivia questions of stuff he learns in school or reads about. It seems most of the answers are Woodrow Wilson, since his Elementary school is named for that President.

A wonderful coincidence occurred when at a friends house he saw an electronic game with all the presidents on the front and a button for each.  You can push the button and then push a separate button that gives info about VPs, home state, facts, etc.  Plus it has a True and False trivia mode.  The family said they had borrowed it and their kids had no interest so they let Sam bring it home.  He is hooked.

He also learned that one of Franklin Roosevelt’s VPs is a distant relative on mom’s side of the family.

I do want to make clear one thing.  My joy is not in hoping my son will one day be in the White House.  That’s not a dream I have.  But I would love from him to appear on Jeopardy some day.

I saw a book about presidential trivia at the bookstore over the weekend. It looked interesting enough and I though my boy would love it so I went back to buy it.  But as I surveyed the facts they were mostly salacious.

“Which president killed a man?”

“Which president broke his arm from jumping out of his mistress’s window?”

“Which president fathered an illegitimate son months before taking office?”

Sigh.  Not the book I want for my son.  And the sad realization that some things never change.

So much for the godly, upright spiritual leaders of yesteryear.

A Goldendoodle Named Benji

We have been enjoying our puppy these last few months.  He’s almost 7 months and 30lbs but still very much a puppy.  He provides lots of joy and laughter.  And it is definitely similar to having a third baby/child. He was four months when we got him, so not tiny but definitely comparable to a toddler, like a very fast toddler with big teeth who likes to chew on stuff like underwear and shoes.

Here are some connections:

  • Not since our children were little have I been so concerned about another being’s bowel movements
  • We have to be careful where we leave stuff and closing doors, etc.  We learned that our home wasn’t doggy-proof. He has eaten some pens but hasn’t destroyed any shoes yet.
  • The puppy wants/needs attention, he is very extroverted, like my daughter.  He will howl, whine, and moan even if he is left alone upstairs for too long. He loves strangers, will bark when he sees people riding/walking down the street and jumps on everyone.  We are working on that.

Some other puppy facts:

  • He likes to get on our bed and bark at himself in the mirror.
  • My girl calls him furball and talks baby talk to him all the time
  • I like to call him Schmuppy
  • He does occasionally sleep on the bed with us
  • He knows when we are about to put him in the laundry room when we all leave, so he goes and slouches on his pillow, goes limp
  • He manages to destroy most toys within a day or two of getting them (at least can get the squeaker out)
  • his favorite human is my wife.  Definitely his momma.

Fake Crying vs Real Crying

This will go into the book I want to write about what my kids have taught me about God and church.  But for now, it’s just a simple blog post.

I have gotten good at distinguishing the “I fell and hit my head” cries from the “mom won’t let me do something”  cries.

I am not always exactly right, but usually I know.  It’s because I know my kids.  I am often downstairs in the office, working or playing, and I hear tears.  If I hear a *thud* first, then it’s obvious.  But if I don’t hear a thud and the crying comes first I listen as I walk towards the stairs.

If it’s an injury cry (physical or emotional) I will usually come on up even if I am supposed to be working. If it’s a whiny cry, I wait and ask the wife later about it.

I am trying to practice this in church as well.  I really don’t get that many “complaints.”  But when someone expresses something, I try and distinguish if it’s for real.  Sometimes people complain about something because they don’t want to bring up what’s really bothering them.  Sometimes they got their feelings hurt.  Someone didn’t get their way.  Sometimes they are just cranky.  I know I get that way at times.

But often, there is some true hurt underneath it all that needs to be addressed.  I don’t always know what to do, but can always pray and listen.