I’m thinking about having a Yes Appreciation Day. In all actuality, our particular household might need more than one day—maybe as many as a dozen. Yes, an even dozen.
I feel like I’m being relatively reasonable, mostly accommodating and even somewhat selfless. All to no avail. They just want more. They always. Want. More.
I know I’m not alone in this plight. I see the slumping shoulders and the resigned-to-martyrdom looks in your eyes. I hear the whining, nagging and pitiful woundedness in your voices. We must not resort to such petty behavior! We must simply band together in a united effort to increase awareness and to prohibit further entitled behavior.
Which brings me to my point: Yes Appreciation Day.
This will be a day in which there are no yesses. They will hear no, no, no all day long. From morning ‘til night, “no” will resound!
“No, I will not provide breakfast this morning.”
“Out of shampoo? No, I will not buy you more.”
“No, I will not overlook the eyeroll you just gave me.”
“No, no television today.”
“No, you may not use my wheelbarrow to get the four 50-lb. bags of feed out to the barn. Bundle up! It’s cold!”
“No, I will not go over dividing decimals with you for the fifth time this month.”
“Sorry, no computer time.”
“No, I will not drive you to work today.”
“Ummm…no, I will not share my chocolate-hazelnut biscotti with you.”
“No, I will not replace the pants you’ve outgrown. Besides, we may have flooding.”
“Nope. You may not borrow any of my books today. Even the one you were reading yesterday that left off at that really good part.”
“You want to run a load of laundry? Sorry. No one but me is using any appliances today.”
“You need tape? White-out? Scissors? A stapler? The printer? Toothpicks? Paper towels? Lotion? A fork? Running water? Sorry…but…no.”
My theory is that if enough of these Yes Appreciation Days are strung together firmly and without any waffling whatsoever, a return to the routine of thoughtful yesses will be much more highly valued.
Wouldn’t that be fun?!
Who am I kidding?
I know that parenting isn’t about fun. I also know that it isn’t about being liked or disliked. It isn’t always about yesses and nos, and it isn’t always about teaching someone a lesson. Sometimes, the person who most needs to learn the lesson is me.
I feel like there’s a lesson I need to learn in this. What am I taking for granted? What example am I setting? When am I keeping score, and what is my goal? Are my expectations reasonable? Is there a deeper need that I’m missing, or is this a character flaw that needs exposed…in them or in me? I don’t always know.
I wish I knew the answers as soon as I needed them. I wish I didn’t make so many mistakes. I wish I didn’t hold so tightly to some things, and I wish I hadn’t let others go.
The fact of the matter is that wishing will get me nowhere.
Lord, please give me the wisdom I need to raise these children according to Your plan. They are so bright! So amazing! So helpful and talented and creative and generous! They are so capable—so completely captivating to my heart. And they’re human. Just like their parents, these precious children are incredibly human. There are times when I’m tired. And hurt. And uncertain and insecure. There are times when I think I will surely burst a blood vessel if I am asked that same question one more time…or if I hear a ridiculous argument erupt again…or if I have to address the fact that the dog’s water bowl is still empty. Please help me to respond with wisdom and in love. Not to lash out. Not to berate. Not to give up and just ignore bad behavior. Help me to choose my battles wisely and with eternity in mind.
And, Lord, like I’ve prayed hundreds of times over the past 16 ½ years, thank You for letting Your grace cover over my mistakes.