First, let me say that my kids are usually pretty well-behaved when we go out. Most of the comments I get from strangers in the store or elsewhere are about how quiet and orderly the four of them are– “Especially for having so many!” the stranger often adds.
Yesterday was different.
To be fair, we’ve been shaken out of our normal routine these last few days. We attended a Beth Moore study Wednesday morning, during which the kids were unnaturally quiet and cooperative. That night we had dinner with the Franklin’s at church, and afterward the kids got to play with their friends and their favorite babysitter as raucously as they pleased. Yesterday morning was a community play group, where they met lots of new friends and played new games. And then that afternoon. . . well, they kind of lost it.
We hold our MOPs planning meetings in the baby nursery at the community church by the lake. It has plenty of room and toys for the kids, as well as space for the team to sit and chat and plan. My kids adore the community church. They beg me to take them there, even when there’s nothing going on. So they thought they must have hit the jackpot when they got to play at both the play group and the fun church in one day! Yeah, not such a good idea.
The meeting started with the usual low rumble of kid activity and chatter. Then it got a little worse, when the girls bickered over a baby toy. And a little worse, when Jonah started jumping on and off of the play house. And a little worse, when Sarah started chasing a screaming Anna with a dump truck. And even worse, when they all decided to climb and dangle from the baby cribs. And none of them seemed to notice my shushing, or heed my menacing looks, or remember any semblance of any manner or family rule ever imparted to them. And then the room was silent.
It took me a while to notice. But gradually I became aware that there hadn’t been any distraction or interruption in the conversation for a few minutes. Then I looked up, and they were gone. Not just my children, but all of the children. They had been guided through the child-proof gate by one of the twins and were now wandering the long church hallways, running in and out of classrooms, and, in the case of one 20-month-old boy, exploring the great outdoors.
So I rounded them all up, straining to resist an overwhelming urge to scream at and thrash someone (or a few someones) in the echoing church hallway, and led them back through the child-proof gate for the remainder of the meeting. Afterward, oblivious to their mortal peril, my four offspring gave me quite a lovely run-around all the way to the van, so that by the time I finally slammed the door shut and strapped myself in the driver’s seat (safely AWAY from the perpetrators), my blood pressure was so high that my head spun. I literally could not form a coherent sentence to explain what on earth they had done wrong.
Thankfully, I happen to have a level-headed husband, who was not harassed to speechlessness that day, and who arrived thirty minutes after we came home, and was able to elicit four pint-sized confessions of terrorism and deliver age-appropriate, non-lethal consequences for their behavior.
Thank goodness for non-lethal consequences. I kind of like having those four around. Usually.
Oh man. I hear ya! I’ve had a few of those myself. Hugs to you! Glad your kids are still alive (and mine too…hee hee hee.)
How can you leave me hanging in this way? What WERE the non-leathal consequences, and did they work????
Oh, yes. First he got them each to admit specifically what they had done– individually, and leaving off the “but Sissy did it too” stuff. Then he talked about why all of those things were wrong, and they all agreed that they knew they were wrong, and seemed to actually feel guilty about it. Then he prayed with them and they felt better. Then he pronounced no tv or computer or toys or fun of any kind for the remainder of the evening, and bedtime immediately after dinner. And when they weren’t eating or getting ready for bed, they had to be cleaning the living room, which was full of toys and books. I think mostly it was the protracted, somber atmosphere that made them take it all very seriously.
And when the atmosphere is protracted and somber and your children are SO, SO, SO serious. . .don’t you find it incredibly hard to NOT giggle. You have them RIGHT where you want them, but oh, the giggles, they keep bubbling up to be stifled.
Oh, yes. There were many giggles bubbling up.
Ahhhh yes, I know those days… those are the days I want to jump out a window… and then I remember that my house is only high enough to inflict pain on myself so it wouldn’t do me any good! haha
I’ve had that feeling once or twice myself: “…my blood pressure was so high that my head spun. I literally could not form a coherent sentence to explain what on earth they had done wrong.”
I love the way you write. You are just telling a story about ‘one of those days’ and you can do so with the best authenticity and authorship! Love!