According to the Chinese zodiac, babies born in the year
of the dragon are dynamic, powerful born leaders who, on the flip side, are also
feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn, and insistent upon getting their way.
Such is the yin and yang of life, isn't it? For every virtue, there
is an equivalent vice, which is really just the virtue in its raw, unhoned
form.
True to his birth year, Caedmon is most definitely such a dragon. And at 26
months, he is right on cue in reaching his terrible twos. This, coupled
with three weeks in the care of overindulgent grandparents while I worked an
abnormally full schedule, has resulted in Caedmon showing more of his vices than
virtues. He is, indeed, feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn,
insistent upon getting his way, and may I add, volatile. He is definitely
in his unhoned form. I think if he could breathe fire, he would.
I understand that all toddlers test their limits, but
Wayne and I are also recognizing that Caedmon seems especially strong-willed.
We recognize the traits—fierce independence, a tenacious spirit,
stubborn resolve, and fearless abandon. To our chagrin, we suspect that
Caedmon is simply a reflection of our strongest attributes—Wayne’s stubbornness
and my passionate nature.
So then my quest is really how to train my dragon, to
discipline my child.
Of course, I've done my research. I've talked with
other moms. And naturally, me being me, I've read books.
I am encouraged by author and theologian John Piper who
recently wrote a compelling piece on
his blog, exhorting parents to teach their children obedience not
simply because it's commendable, but because it's imperative to their eternal
well-being. Or Ted Tripp in Shepherding a Child’s Heart or Ginger Plowman
in Don’t Make Me Count to Three who teach that we must tend to the hearts of
our children, where the root of the undesired action lies... yes, to use the
rod, but to do so responsibly and in constant conjunction with loving
communication, a solid relational foundation, and regular review of the Word
which maintains that our Father desires our obedience for our GOOD. We are to discipline our children not merely
to elicit behavior modification, but to foster true character growth. I am not just convinced, I am convicted.
There is so much I want to teach Caedmon so that he grows in the way of
the Lord.
And so I'm girded with practical advice, Biblical
references, and the best of intentions... I am ready to tame this beast.
Cue heroic music.
But then Caedmon screams while I'm checking out a book at
the library. And I feel the disdainful looks of the other moms whose
children are quietly flipping through The Rainbow Fish and Amelia Bedilia (or maybe these are looks of
empathy, but I'm too self-conscious to notice). He melts into a pool at
my feet while I'm trying to get to the bathroom, so that I am now shuffling and
dragging a wailing toddler behind me. He clenches his fists while
his face turns red, his tantrum reaching a new decibel—all because we turned
off his Veggietales.
In one fiery bellow, Caedmon has set my well-meaning
plans aflame, singeing my outward confidence and my baby hairs, but not my inner
resolve. I will press on, because I
believe my efforts are significant… even though the “how” in the equation is
still (quite) a bit elusive.
I am heartened by the small bit of progress we’ve seen recently. In the two weeks that summer
has begun, and I have been home with Caedmon exclusively, we have made
significant headway in obedience-training.
And by “training” I am really referring to myself, because I am learning
to set limits for a two-year-old, to be firm with my baby, how to teach what is
right and wrong, and how to administer loving discipline when he falters. (And how to keep a straight face when he,
say, draws all over himself with markers or brings me a clump of Lucy’s
poo.) This is no small feat, and just
last week, I was able to change Caedmon’s diaper without his throwing a
tantrum! Get this—I said firmly to him, “Caedmon,
Mommy is going to change your diaper. I
do not want you to cry or whine. If you
do, you will get a spanking. Understand?” To which he nodded, “Yes.” And… he took my hand and QUIETLY and HAPPILY
walked to his room. Whoa. I was floored, and
honestly, still am a little.
Small steps. But I’ll
take small steps if they’re headed in the right direction.
Training my dragon on the obstacle course.
