Race!

Okay, I admit it. Sometimes I do bribe my children. Our church has prayer meetings on Tuesday nights and tonight after the meeting was over, I wanted the children to get to bed right away, so I bribed them.

Last night, I didn't get home until 6:30, which made it difficult for my husband to get to a meeting he was supposed to be at precisely at 7:00. Tonight was a similar story. Although I work from 8 to 5, I rarely leave on time. I rarely get my full one hour lunch break. Often I'm sitting in the break room with the door open so I can hear when the patient is done so I can go and set up their next appointment and then get back to my lunch. Of course after two days of late nights I'm tired and just want to have the kids get to bed. After all, I barely made it home in time to even go to prayer meeting in the first place.

So, how did I bribe my children? As soon as we walked in the door, I announced there would be a prize for the child who was first to get into their pajamas. Michael, the oldest, ran off immediately to his room to get busy. He must have forgotten that one other time I had given a prize and it was a hug and kiss from mommy. Greta also went straight to her room, as fast as her little four year old legs would carry her.

Matthew was the interesting one. Immediately he sat down on the floor and complained that races aren't fair and he doesn't want to race and he never wins so he doesn't like them. I didn't budge. I didn't change my mind. He had to get going. Michael and Greta actually tied for being the first in their pajamas, and they were each allowed a special treat out of their "goody bags." These are candies and sweets that have been collected the past few weeks that we allow them to dip into once in a while. It would be too much mayhem to let them have it all at once and it's a funny thing that neither Karl nor I want to deal with that.

By the time the two winners are picking out their prizes, Matthew's heaving sobs are unmistakably growing louder by the second. He worked himself into a good cry and we had a talk about how his whining and complaining didn't help him get in pajamas.

This is not the first time Matthew has struggled with similar issues. If he doesn't think he can "win" a particular situation or event, he immediately begins to whine and complain and slow down and not participate. Well, he's right, he never wins. Not at this rate! His younger sister nearly beat their older brother, solely because she got busy, she didn't murmur and complain.

Now before a lot of people start saying I'm not fair to my children, Matthew does manage to get special treats and things. There are other things he is very good at, other than prompt obedience at times.

I've dealt with some patients, supposedly adults, who remind me a lot of what Matthew just did tonight. When they can tell they aren't going to "win" they immediately put on the brakes and start the grumbling process. Fortunately, the doctor I work for doesn't put up with that mess. Rules of protocol are clearly posted in the waiting room and there is no excuse for patients not behaving in a courteous and respectful manner. I've noticed that I don't enjoy checking in the patients who are eager to complain and murmur if things aren't going their way. I suppose to some degree we all would prefer to be around those who take responsibility for their actions and admit when they didn't do their best and so they didn't "win" the prize.

I'm hoping and praying that Matthew eventually grows out of the murmuring phase. I'm hoping and praying that I grow out of it too. Yep, it's made me think tonight about how many times I haven't been willing to accept God's will, because it just wasn't what I was expecting. I murmured and complained and even put on the brakes and threw a fit a few times. Watching Matthew, I realize that I have two choices. I can act, or I can whine and complain. In the end, action requires a lot less effort and I have greater fulfillment for getting the task accomplished. Whining and complaining wears me out, puts me in a state of depression and then I'm overwhelmed by all the other things that piled up while I was busy with my pity party. It sure seems like it's a far better choice to go for the action instead of the whining. Maybe Matthew and I will grow out of this murmuring phase together.