Parenting is a Dance and Not a Wrestling Match

My 11-year-old came into our bedroom and cuddled between my husband and I a few nights ago. I was surprised, pleasantly. I so much wanted to believe this was a sure sign that we had finally reached the end of a very difficult trial. Have we finally won her heart and that she has learned obedience not out of fear of consequences, but out of love for her mother and father?

We watched Freaky Friday on Mother’s Day. I loved this movie when it first came out in 2003. That was before I had kids. But this time I cringed throughout, wondering if I had made a mistake by showing this movie to my brood of tweens. Even my husband asked out loud, “Is this really PG with all the kissing?”

The next day, my older daughter asked what my favorite part of the movie was. “The part when the mom (played by Jamie Lee Curtis) shut off the electricity of the noisy garage band.”

My daughter then commented on a scene from the movie where the mother removed her daughter’s bedroom door.

We then laughed about it. I told her if I was stronger and handier, her door would have been gone a long time ago too. But since I am neither strong nor handy, she will just end up with a permanent hole on her door…wrecked by a hammer in the hand of an angry woman.

Just recently in her Bible class, she read about King David. David lost his faith and messed up big time. She rarely discussed her Bible reading with me, but this time she stopped me as I was leaving her room.

“Mom, did you ever mess up?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, I surely have, but not until I was much older.” I still know how to throw an unintended punch.

I went on to talk about God’s forgiveness, and that even with David’s transgressions he was still known to be a man after God’s own heart. I sensed she needed to hear that. She needed to know we all fall short, we all fall from grace, but there is no sin so great that cannot be forgiven. She needed to know she has been forgiven by me, and by God.

“Mom, I am a good child now,” she said to me. I wasn’t sure what I heard until hours later.

I must say this daughter of mine has changed. She is doing much better in school and with a better attitude. For the most part though, I am the one that has changed. I no longer force her to do things she doesn’t want to do, and for what she wants to do, I wholeheartedly support her. In return, she has come to embrace the boundaries I set for her, such as not using any devices until she completes her school work. She has learned to willingly hand in (or surrender) her laptop when the time is up. She knows I hide all the devices because she is aware of the fact that she can be tempted. As I back off from some of my demands, she takes a step towards me in love and compliance.

Once, she hugged me from behind, and I almost had to hold back my tears.

Parenting is like a dance. There will be a time when we take a step forward, and there will be a time when we take a step back, all with graceful rhythms and pure elegance. Parenting is a dance, not a wrestling match.

Peace has returned to our home. But I could sense an uprising from my 9-year-old these days. “Mom, you love my sister more!” my younger daughter protested. Then I had to sit down with my youngest and reminded her of the story of the Prodigal Son. “Don’t be like the sulky older brother,” I said. Why? Rejoice for the return of a wayward child. Rejoice for we can once again LIVE, LAUGH, and LOVE.