My husband is a sentimental guy. He would often bring up our family album on Shutterfly and play a slideshow or two while our kids look on.
“I miss that smile,” my 12-year-old son said when he saw a picture of his younger sister taken a year or two ago. I leaned over to see which picture they were looking at, and my heart yearned. In the picture, my older daughter beamed with the joy and pleasure of a happy child. It seemed like ages since I last saw that smile.
I miss that girl. Where is she?
About two to three months ago, my 10-year-old daughter became increasingly cranky, irritable, and unpleasant. She looked socially awkward and withdrawn. Once an A student, a delightful writer, sculptor, and designer, she turned into someone I could hardly recognize. Her school work was sloppy and her writing uninteresting, plain, and full of mistakes. She’d miss assignments and complained almost daily that school is boring.
I had wondered if she was depressed and that thought alone scared me. She was in her room almost all the time with her door shut. If we ever entered without her permission, she’d yell and ask us to leave.
I know she is a tough cookie ever since she was little, but I was completely unprepared to deal with a teen, or an alien, that lived inside a child’s body.
My family and friends know I am disciplined and structured. I have decided that at this season of my life I would raise my children as my career and I chose to homeschool them. I was all in and committed.
I had many rules and I followed a schedule ever since my children were babies and toddlers. One of the rules I had was that there would be no snacks after dinner.
When my third child was just born, we had an auntie that came to stay with us to help with cooking during my one-month postpartum recovery. This auntie loved to make food for my children. Out of politeness, I did not go over my rules with her.
Around 10 o’clock one evening, I spotted my then 3-year-old son eating a bowl of strawberries while sitting on the kitchen floor. I screamed in my head, “What is she doing! They are not allowed to eat anything after dinner!” I immediately went to look for my 2-year-old but I couldn’t find her. My mom told me she was in the basement. Then I saw her…stuffing her face with a bowl of strawberries on our carpeted basement floor. That girl. She knew she would get in trouble if she had eaten openly in the kitchen – like her guileless, or more aptly, clueless, older brother.
At age two, she already knew how to maneuver in the system to avoid getting caught. That was 2009 before the debut of iPad 1 and its kinds.
Last summer, I decided that my older daughter would need her own laptop for schooling. We purchased a used MacBook Air. As soon as it arrived, we were so excited for her. We helped her with the setup, laughing, and joking about the password she could use for her very first account. Butterfly. Ice Cream. Girly and pretty little words – just for a fifth-grader.
Little did we know that was the beginning of a rapid decline of her spiritual, mental, and emotional wellbeing.
I was at my wit’s end. I had scolded her both calmly and hysterically. I tried different approaches to help her get a handle on her school work. She was not grasping the mathematical concepts and she continued to miss her assignments. When I confronted her, she’d shrug and say, “Oh, I forgot.” I was disappointed, discouraged, and angry on a daily basis. I couldn’t tell whether it was because of the workload or she was simply distracted by something.
What puzzled me was that while her siblings could finish their schoolwork within the allocated time, she’d take much longer. With her door closed all day, I didn’t really know what was going on. I couldn’t hear anything through the door. Whenever I was brave enough to barge in, she would immediately close her laptop.
See, raising a preteen girl is a brand new ball game. You don’t just barge into their rooms. Why? Because you dread the drama that will ensue. Because you know there is only so much tension and conflict you can handle. You are already loaded with tons of other responsibilities besides raising this insolent, spoiled, little yet not-so-little brat, and you simply do not have the energy to fight all the battles.
One day all the pent-up frustration led to a volcanic eruption. I found myself shaking with anger. I feared I was on the verge of doing something I’d regret.
I was about to smash my daughter’s MacBook Air in half.
I have been talking to my husband about installing parental controls on the kids’ computers. How we went on this long without setting up any internet filters was just irresponsible on our part. Or, we just trusted our kids too much. An engineer that built one of these parental control software urges the parents not to install the app without a thoughtful conversation with their children. After all, parents still need their passwords in order to install anything on the kids’ devices. It will require their full cooperation.
My husband then called a family pizza meeting to talk about parental controls two Saturdays ago. The compliant ones accepted it without a word. But for this girl – she threw a fit and walked out of the meeting.
It’d take a shopping trip to Justice and an outing to Red Mango for me to coax my strong-willed child into submission. She finally brought down her laptop for me to install the parental control software. I was nervous and excited. This ordeal would soon be over. I could finally see what was really going on.
But my nightmare had only begun. My worst days were still ahead.
I dreaded poring over all the activity details from the parent’s portal. It’s almost better if I didn’t see them. And it would take a glitch on the app for the internet block to fail. It led to fiercer, more intense confrontations. I was emotionally drained; I almost did not know how to go on loving this child.
As a Christian, I have known the grace of God. I don’t want to parent out of fear. The Scripture says it’s kindness that leads to repentance. In other words, unconditional love changes hearts; control only hardens them. I want my children to obey out of their love for me, and I don’t want just outward signs of obedience.
Three weeks ago, I read the following passage from the Bible. Suddenly, everything became clear.
“Jehoash did what the Lord approved all his days when Jehoiada the priest taught him. But the high places were not eliminated; the people continued to offer sacrifices and burn incense on the high places.” (2 Kings 12:2-3)
The high places were not eliminated.
I thought I was doing everything right in the eyes of God. But I continued to allow the “High Places” to exist and exert its influence in our home and in the lives of our children. What is this High Place? I’m sure it’s apparent and obvious to all. It’s the INTERNET.
We raise our children the Christian way and they go to church regularly. But it does not mean they are well positioned to function in the highly connected virtual world. Despite my valiant effort to run a tight ship, I completely missed how our family could be attacked…while we were sleeping. While we think our world was sleeping.
It would take an unplanned sleepover for a friend’s child to see something we did not see – for he too was a night owl. While I enjoy uninterrupted nighttime sleep, the enemy was cranking it up with schemes when we least expect it.
My 10-year-old fell into the addictive habit of staying up late to play online games and chat with online “friends.”
That explained her crankiness during the day and why she could not focus on her school work. These game apps were accessible to her at a click of the mouse. Who wants to watch a teacher on the screen when she could play Bed Wars on Minecraft?
This addiction led to shame and deception. Children that have something to hide are not themselves. They become more and more withdrawn and self-centered because they are all about preserving their interests without getting caught.
The “High Places” had to be eliminated.
We could not just turn off our modem though I tried a few times out of desperation. Two Saturdays ago, I confiscated her MacBook Air. Well…I literally charged into her bedroom, grabbed her machine and ran.
Then all hell broke loose. My husband and I took turns talking and counseling her. Sometimes it ended amicably; sometimes it ended with screams and slammed doors. Just when we thought we had a breakthrough, there would be another disappointing setback to push me over the edge.
I once heard that our children are our greatest joy and our greatest pain. I now know what that means.
It’s been 9 days since we took away the laptop. And I am happy to say…within days I began to see a glimpse of the daughter I once knew. The smile we all missed returned. She no longer has to lie to cover up her indiscretion. She now lives in the light, not darkness. She is free.
“Mom, when can I have my laptop back?” the girl asked yesterday.
I pretended that I didn’t hear her. I know she will ask the same question again and again. And I will probably continue to turn a deaf ear. I jumped into the lake of fire to look for my daughter. I was scorched badly enough that I no longer want to be in that awful place.