Teach Our Children Well

When it comes to parenting milestones I am admittedly delayed.  We did not leave the house until The Trifecta turned a year old and the pediatrician gave us the “go ahead” to enter the real world.  We did not leave the girls with a babysitter until they turned 3 (even though I had a wonderful nanny/mommy helper in Georgia). Chris and I have never left them overnight.  We’re just total bizarre-os.

I reached a major milestone when I decided it was time to take the girls to the child care center at the gym.  I used to clock in my exercise anywhere from 4:30 to 6:00 am so that I could work out and get home in time for Chris to get to State Farm.  With a zillion words of encouragement from my parents, I decided to give working out during decent day light hours a try.  A darling woman named Emma greeted us at the door.  She reminded me of a storybook character who probably has 20 grandchildren of her own snapping at her heels.  I felt encouraged.

After an abbreviated session I went to pick up The Trifecta.  As soon as we walked out of the child care room they started shouting in unison, “Dat boy hit Hendley on the head with a train!  She cried!  She has a boo-boo!”  I inspected the wound.  A red goose egg protruded from her tiny forehead.  “Are you ok?” I asked.  “I don’t want dat boy to do that never again,” Hendley replied.  I didn’t take a breath. I didn’t count to 10.  I just said the first thing that came into my tiny brain.  “Well,” I began, “If that boy touches you anywhere again I’m going to bash his face in."  The Trifecta looked up at me with six wide, stunned eyes. 

I can understand their surprise at my choice of words.  Following an outbreak of violence at the Jackson home, we have been discussing the importance of “The Golden Rule,” using our “words” to solve problems, and all concepts surrounding “give peace a chance.”  No biting.  No hitting. No scratching.  No hair pulling.  No kicking.  Treat others the way you want to be treated.

“Did you tell Miss Emma?” I asked.  “Yes,” they replied, in harmony. “What did she do?” I questioned.  “She told him not to do dat anymore,” Elizabeth answered.  “And she put him in time out,” Mary Ellis added.  In an effort to fix my parenting blunder I added, “Always tell a teacher if someone hurts you.  Okay?” 

That night we were shocked out of sleep by the sound of exploding fireworks and Mary Ellis’ screams of terror.  We bolted up the stairs and began comforting The Trifecta.  “Daddy, if dose guys don’t stop the fireworks, will you please bash their face in?” Mary Ellis asked Chris.  He looked at me with astonishment.  “Where did she hear that?” Chris wondered out loud.  “Yikes,” I started, “I just don’t know.  The nursery at church?  Sunday school? Do you really want to deal with this right now?  It’s 2:00 in the morning.” 

After comforting the girls and bribing them with cups of milk, Chris and I returned to our room.  I couldn’t sleep.  “It was me.  I told Hendley I was going to bash in the face of the kid who clocked her with the train today.  I wasn’t thinking.  I was so mad.  She’s the most sensitive and peaceful child on the planet.  I meant it, too.  I’ll bash his face in if he does that again.”  Chris gave me a tired pat on the back.  “It’s ok,” he said. 

And so, the next morning my devotional said the following:  As we teach our children, we must continually emphasize the difference between knowing something and applying it to our lives. It is not enough that our kid’s heads get crammed full of Bible knowledge. The instructions from Scripture must be translated into daily life and applied.

Teach our children well.  Put those words into action.  Not, teach our children “bash his face in.” Ouch.  So now during my daily prayers I ask that God will work through me when opportunities arise such as the one I just described above.  How do I translate into action those things I know God tells me to do into daily lessons with my children? 

Maybe I should begin by removing, “bash his face in” from my vocabulary?