February 18 – “The Big D”

Well, then.  This morning we had that experience so dreaded by grandparents everywhere.  That horrible time of gut-wrenching agony.  That oh-so painful task that we for so long have rejoiced in avoiding at all costs.  What malady could possibly have such an adverse effect on an otherwise happy-go-lucky couple of AARPers?  None other than … the Big D.  That’s right.  We were forced this morning to reach way back into our long-suppressed memory banks and drag forward, kicking and screaming, Discipline.  Aargh.  It hurts to say it.  It hurts so much more to do it.  And I never was good at it when our boys were growing up anyway. 

The scenario.  It started out innocent enough.  Nathan dropped Cailyn off as usual on his way to work.  We get her fed and dressed, and at the proper time we take her to school.  Sounds easy, right?  Ordinarily it is.  She’s a great kid and most of the time she is incredibly cooperative.  It takes something really significant to invade her world and throw it out of kilter.  That something … happened this morning.  We followed our usual routine of her joining me at my desk and together we do some “work.”  Today we did spelling and an impromptu lesson on vowels.  Then she wanted to spell things and write them down.  Her name was first, of course.  She even added the “Vaughan” part.  She ran out of room on her paper, though, so the “Vaug” was on one line and the “han” was on the other.  I suggested she add a letter D to the “han” and see what happened.  Suddenly and miraculously it became a hand.    Not satisfied with such short words, she wanted to try a really long one – Peter Pan.  Then that accomplished, she informed me that it was my turn to pick a really long word.  I chose supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.  And so we began.   She made it through supercali before giving up and asking me to finish.  She helped me out by informing me that there were some children that “slidded down the stair thing and went outside to go to the park.”  It was one of the quickest shifts to movie plots that I have ever seen.  Great transition, though, from the children going to the park to her going to school. 

We grabbed her bag to get her dressed.  As I reached in to get things out – shoes (two pair.  Hmm.  Kid’s gotta have a choice, I guess), shirt.  She told me rather matter-of-factly that “I guess today I’m wearing a skirt.”  Sounded good to me, but … there was no skirt in the bag – only pants.  And so it began.  Now she has done this before and we were able to pawn the blame off on Daddy.  We did that again this time, and she was certain the fault was all his.  “I told him that I wanted the skirt.  He just didn’t listen to me.”  Ouch.  I loved Chris’ response, though.  “Maybe he didn’t hear you.”  See, Nathan can’t hear much better than I can.  It’s in his genes.    Cailyn accepted that, but this time it was just not enough.  She was adamant that she was not going to wear those pants.  In fact, she was not even going to go to school.  We bantered good-naturedly for a bit, but time was running out and she was no closer to being dressed.  I tried to shift gears and be stern, but when she recognized the tactic, she informed me that “You and Nani are not the boss of me.  Only Mommy and Daddy are.”  With that I knew that the next few minutes were going to take an eternity to elapse. 

Oh, we coaxed and cajoled, but the die was cast.  She went through the “I want Mommy and Daddy” wail.  She went through the angry “Grrrs” (always one of my favorites, I must add).  Nothing we said or did would convince her.  So … it was time for the dreaded wooden spoon.  It most assuredly had the desired effect, even though we have never used it.  By the time I got to the proverbial “One … Two …,” the wail had changed to “I’ll do it, I’ll do it myself.”  Not that she actually did do it right away.  She had to see how far we were willing to go.  It’s part of the Big D game.  I remember it well.  Now to make a longer story somewhat shorter, she did get herself dressed.  I never had to actually wield the spoon, just convince her that I might.  Chris got to play the good cop and brought her a nice warm washcloth to wash her face.  By the time we got to school she was fine.  She gave me a big hug and told me she loved me and I melted, of course. 

A word to all you grandchildren out there.  Please do us a favor and save the drama for Mom and Dad.  We had to discipline them, so now it’s their turn.  We love them and we don’t want them to miss out on anything.  Our job is to spoil you guys, so behave around us and I guarantee it will come out in your favor. 

Proverbs 22:6 still says, “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”  I checked.

Father, thank you for helping us get through the Big D once.  We’re really gonna need some extra help this time.  This part of loving is always the toughest.  Amen.