Meanest Mom

Today, I'm gladly accepting the nomination for mean mom. When I picked up the little kids from preschool, Ben was being contrary. I asked him to buckle his seat belt and he tried to kick me. He eventually buckled, but kept up the back-talk as I pulled out of the parking lot. (He REALLY needed a nap -- it was that kind of senseless ranting.) Ben got mad and told me he would get a gun and shoot me. So many selfish emotions rolled through my mind -- I was angry, I was sad, I was hurt, I was frustrated, but most of all, I was afraid. I wasn't afraid for my life, because I really believe he was just searching for the right combination of words to get a response from me. I was afraid of what he might become. I teared up as I questioned whether all kids go through this meanness or if it is just the ones that make the FBI's most-wanted list. I knew he needed to be disciplined for his words, but a spank didn't seem enough, and time-out wouldn't do much for him. Since I was driving, I was even more challenged with how to deal with it immediately. 

An idea came to me, and I called Allen to make sure he was okay with what I decided to do. I gulped back the sadness and shock, and told him he made a bad decision saying those words and we would go to the police station to see what they had to say about it. It was a complete gamble on my part since I didn't call ahead, but it was on the way home. I figured if they couldn't have a stern talk with him about guns and threats, then we would pick up the brochures about those topics and read them at home. As soon as I explained where we were going, Ben started crying and pleading with me to not send him to jail. I was practicing my deep breathing (trying to keep my cool) when Will piped up: "Don't worry, Ben! I saw this on TV once. Since you only used words and not a real gun, they will probably only lock you up for a month or ... maybe a season."

When we arrived at the station, three kids excitedly climbed out of the car, but I had to pry Ben out of the seat. We went inside and I explained the situation. We waited just a few minutes for Officer Dean to arrive. I again explained the situation, and, as he realized what I was after, the police officer crossed his arms, puffed out his chest, and stood as tall as he could -- yes, he was intimidating. Ben barely peeked over the officer's tummy, and I considered having him stand on a chair so he could see into his eyes. I decided the intimidation-factor was necessary for the lesson to stick. Officer Dean explained to Ben that he locks people up for making threats like that, and even when he is mad, Ben needs to choose better words. He continued the talk, telling Ben that if he talks to me that way again, I should bring him back to the station, but maybe... he would get locked up for a few hours. Ben's knees were shaking a little bit, then the officer added that in jail, kids don't get pillows and blankets. I don't know how he knew what Ben is most attached to, but I'm pretty sure those few words may be what was needed to make sure I don't hear threats from Ben for awhile. His knees started knocking when he realized how much trouble he was in.

And that's it. I didn't put him in time-out. I didn't wash his mouth out with soap. I didn't even paddle his bottom. I let the law be the lesson.

I think I did the right thing, but I still can't shake the fear that I've messed up somewhere along the way. I really do believe he was just spouting off, but the second-thoughts keep nagging me. I often pray for God to show me how to be the parent I need to be to raise these kiddos the right way, but now I need to go release these fears to God and ask for His guidance and assurance.