Sixth Day - Mama Don't Play

When I worked at a church in New York, I assisted with the children's choir. It was a great job, but it was also barely organized mayhem from time to time. If you've ever tried to organize turtles duct taped to tumbleweeds you might have an idea. This was my crucible of learning when it comes to disciplining children in large groups. What I found was the absolute bottom line was consistency. Didn't matter what I did, I just had to do the same thing, every time and not let anyone get by, no matter what. We had one particularly rambunctious six year old who was always one of the last ones to get quiet, often earning her shushes and dirty looks from her fellow choristers who wanted to get to the fun stuff.

One day we had a new little boy in the group. All the children had taken their places and were waiting to sing, while this little dude was poking his neighbor and giggling and making faces. I just stood quietly and waited--that's my gig, and it always works. Except this time. I was wondering to do next when my little squirrel girl leaned over to this little boy, fixed him with the hairy eyeball and said "You'd better be quiet. Because TEACHER. DON'T. PLAY."

Of course, some part of me was horrified, I "play"! I'm fun! We're all here to have a good time!!! Pleeeeezeeee like meeeeeee!  But the truth is, no, I don't play. I believe discipline is important and that you can't enjoy a chaotic good time unless you also know how to control yourself.  Otherwise, what is energy, what is your creative force without discipline? It's like water without a container. Whether it is a creek bed or a clay pot, without some kind of vessel to shape it, water runs into the sand and is lost.

Which is why I am sitting here, writing a blog, while my four year old raises holy hell in the next room. He has pushed the envelope at bedtime more than once. I told him where the line was, he deliberately crossed it and now I've enforced it. And now the neighbors are probably going to call child protective services because my child is wailing with all the drama that only a son of mine could produce.

It has been a long day, I'm tired and part of me wants to just go in there and wail with him. But he needs to know I mean what I say.

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It was at the point I was called away by a screeching voice in the bathroom proclaiming "I'M GONNA SPIT OUT!" I arrived just in time to see my red faced pride and joy shove his fist down his throat and let forth a stream of vomit that would give a frat boy pause.

Yeah. My kid can make himself throw up when he's really pissed. I'm not entirely sure what to make of that particular skill, but he's been like that ever since about 18 months. Which is why we do what we can to use constructive discipline that heads things off before we get to the puking stage.

So, um, what was I talking about? Yes, the importance of discipline. Now, I appear to have three choices. 1) Erase the whole blog and start over.  2) Erase the last two paragraphs and write a good, inspirational whopping lie for the conclusion 3) Admit that I am tired and that this round, the kid won.

Yeah, we're going with door number three. So discipline is a clay pot. Sometimes it holds the water of creativity and self-control. Sometimes it holds vomit.