Sometimes I need to learn a lesson. Other times I need to be hit over the head with a book. I know last week that I mentioned Vicki Courtney spoke about not raising narcissists. I’ll admit that I pretty much cringed the entire time she was speaking. Not because I disagreed or even that I didn’t want to hear what she was saying, just because I felt like there might as well have been a spotlight aimed at my face.
While my goal isn’t to raise spoiled brats, sometimes I think I’m letting it happen by default. Why not let them have a lunchable if they doesn’t want lasagna? They wants to wear skinny jeans every single day – why not? An iPod for a birthday gift… Ella’s responsible enough. What I was failing to realize is that I’m raising them to think that the entire world revolves around them. I’m letting my girls think that their opinions are more valuable than mine or that of her father or her teacher. I’m teaching them that they are overly important and we should defer to their wishes at all times. I worked hard on dinner. Why shouldn’t they be asked to eat it? I wouldn’t insist they clean their plates knowing I cooked something they loathed, but why should I let them opt-out of something we know they love just because they aren’t in the mood.
So, back to being hit over the head with a book. Last Tuesday we had a “me-monster” moment. It was something so simple and I could have easily deferred to her preference, but I heard that still, small voice reminding me that she isn’t in charge. I overslept on Tuesday morning, which I never do (God was clearly aligning the start of my day with my daughter’s). My house is usually still fast asleep when I leave for work each day, but because of my snooze button I was just stepping out of the shower when Ella got up. She asked me to fix her hair in a bun for school and since I was already running late, I figured ten more minutes wouldn’t make that big of a difference. I gave her a big, fluffy sock-bun on the tip top of her head with a pretty tulle flower in the front. She looked adorable. I don’t mean kind of cute… I mean stinking adorable. I would have taken a picture, but that’s when the water works started.
She was devastated and like a true 6 year old woman, she had changed her mind. She begged me to take it down and let her wear a ponytail, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Her daddy and I agreed that because she asked for it and I had spent valuable time styling it for her, she would have to wear it to school. I walked away knowing that her day would get off to a rough start, but it was the right thing to do. At almost 9 o’clock, my mom called me from school and Ella was still crying. She wanted to know if she could redo her hair and send her back to class. Ummm, no. I was slightly humored by the fact that she had been sobbing for well over an hour now, but I was determined to follow through. I told her that if she took her hair down before school was over that she wouldn’t be going to her daddy’s game later that night. Fast forward to 10:30 when I get a text message from her teacher, a dear friend of mine. Ella had asked her to “text your best friend and see if I can take my hair down.”. Since when are teachers also personal assistants to diva 6 year olds? I was livid. That Ella had thought enough about her hair to disrupt class and beg to take it down. With myself for letting her think this was something to be concerned about.
Ella should have been able to enjoy her day at school without worry about her hair. She shouldn’t have been thinking about what she looked like or how others would perceive her. She should’ve been focused on kindergarten and learning her alphabet and going to music class. I know I could have made it all better with a simple phone call, but why should I? I am bound and determined to teach her that she cannot be in control of every situation in her life. My feelings weren’t hurt that she didn’t appreciate the time I spent on her hair, but there will be other people in her life that serve her on a regular basis and she should know enough to thank them and not immediately abandon their hard work. I might not force her to eat brussel sprouts for dinner or wear her hair in a bun at school again, but I’m definitely going to work to challenge her comfort zone. I’m going to let my children live with the fruit of their choices, big and small. I’m not going to let them dictate our schedule or our grocery list. They are both wonderful children, but I’ve let her think for too long that they are the sun in my sky and that will only serve to make them more and more selfish the older they get.
Lord give me patience and a good sense of humor. Help me to shift our focus from a child-centered life to a God-centered one.
