In Control...or in Charge?

So it seems that just in case I should start feeling too good about myself as a parent, one (or more) of my kids make sure I am taken down a notch or two. Humility is a good thing.

Today it was Chase. Dave wasn't able to be with me at church this morning, so I was flying solo in navigating everyone through the morning. We got there on time, and the Sunday School hour went well, but then I had to pick Chase up while Drew and Ryan went to Children's Church. Ryan's Sunday School teacher graciously allows Chase to come in with him, even though the Sunday School class officially starts with 1st grade, but he is not allowed in Children's Church, and I can understand that. It's a larger class, with a wider age range, and while Chase would probably do just fine, the leaders have no way of knowing that. Anyway, this is the point in the morning where we usually run into some trouble. Chase becomes angry, and when that happens, he tends to become uncooperative. Somehow I managed to get him downstairs, though, and we hung around in the atrium and had a snack while waiting for the service to start. I asked him if he thought he would like to go in his class - "They're going to be talking about David and Goliath today!", to which he replied, "Well. I've already heard that one." It didn't seem like he was going to be convinced, so I reminded him of our rule, which is that we don't require kids to go into their classes, but if they choose not to, they must sit quietly in the service with us.

I knew this was going to be dicey, though, since I already had Scarlett and knew she wasn't likely to make it past the singing anyway. But in we went, and only seconds later he began talking in a voice he knew was just a hair too loud. Then as the singing went on, he left my side and went to talk to Aimee (who, poor thing, was just along for this crazy ride), and then he went around her, just outside my reach, and perched himself on the back of the pew in front of us. I told him to get down, he initially did, but climbed back up, this time a little farther away from me, and I, recognizing the signs of a quickly accelerating downward spiral, indicated to him that we were going to step out. And he refused to come. So I laid hold of him rather firmly (with one hand, since I still had Scarlett on my hip) and insisted that he follow me. I began moving toward the exit, he began pulling against me, so the end result was that I made my exit from the auditorium literally dragging him behind me.

Well, no, to say that was the end result would not be quite accurate. I swung him up onto a chair in the hallway, and had to dodge a few attempted punches. Nice. I confess I looked up and down the hall hastily to see if anyone was watching this, and thankfully, they weren't. So I managed to get him off the chair and through another set of double doors to a hallway that would be more conducive to...ahem...discussing this issue. I sat him down in the hall. He ran away. I caught him before he got away again. To make a long story slightly less long and tedious, we'll just say that we repeated this a few times, and he even hit his sister in frustration. I kept returning him to the same spot in the hallway, against the wall, and repeated to him, over and over, that I loved him but this wasn't acceptable behavior. We weren't going anywhere, and we weren't playing any games. Eventually I had to hold him in my lap, until the beast within was finally, and inexplicably, soothed, and he became repentant. Without prompting, he hugged and kissed Scarlett and told her he was sorry. He stopped fighting and he became obedient.

But I would be lying if I said this wasn't embarrassing, if I didn't have to fight the temptation to discipline him in a public way so that any observers would know that I wasn't going to take this kind of thing, that it was an aberration, that I was in control. It reminded me, though, of conversations my friends in our playgroup in SC used to have, about the difference between being "in control" as a parent and being "in charge." We used to talk about how the desire to control kids, or at least to appear in control, often causes parents to make parenting choices that are ineffective and sometimes even quite bad. But of course we also talked about how it is important for parents to be in charge. Leadership and limits are important in the family dynamic.

I didn't do everything right in the scene I just described. I'm certainly not touting myself as a parenting expert here. I will say, though, that overcoming the temptation to try to be in control was helpful today. Being "in control" means I get to do whatever I want, and everyone else does what I want no matter what. Being in control in this situation would have meant Chase and Scarlett would have gone to their respective child care rooms, regardless of their feelings. It would have meant that even if they hadn't, everyone would have known that I was the parent and Chase was going to do what I said (right now, mister!). Being in control would mean breaking Chase's will, and probably reducing him to tears. Being in control would mean that I would not be inconvenienced or embarrassed - I would never lose face as a parent.

That, however, would have just been an illusion, because the fact was that I wasn't much in control of things. Chase had me cornered, and he knew it. I was severely limited in how I could handle things, and it was only the fact that I'm still bigger and faster (and stronger, but only by little!) that I managed to get him where I needed him. But I did need to take charge, and I was firm about setting and enforcing the limits when it came to his behavior. Taking charge also meant acknowledging that it was silly to have worn the tallest heels I own to church this morning, when I had to deal with everyone and everything on my own, and that letting Chase have a chocolate doughnut in between services was not a good idea. It meant that I had to let go of worrying about appearances, get down on the floor with him, and hold him until there was both repentance and reconciliation - even if it meant people watching might not have understood. Maybe they thought he I was letting him get away with what had happened. Maybe they would think I wasn't being a very good mother.

Being in control - or having that illusion as a parent - is about appearances. Being in charge is about being accountable as a parent. It's about understanding love (and that love includes limits and consequences), and about cultivating relationships. And today, it also meant knowing when to cry uncle. Sitting there on the floor of the hallway, I realized that I had two tired and hungry kids. I was still wearing those dumb heels which were at that point really beginning to pinch. We had been at church for a couple hours already, and it was time to go, so we got the other kids out a little early and came home for some lunch and quiet time.

Humble pie for dessert.