The squeal sounded like a car slamming on its brakes, except I was in the middle of a craft store and the squeal was all too familiar. I turned away from the rack of magnets and looked behind me. Just three of my four kids were there, all girls. This confirmed what I’d feared: that squeal came from my three-year-old son, Luke.
I found him just around the corner. He began yelling at me for not coming when he had first called me to see a train set. My calm explanation about appropriate behavior was met with loud whining and complaining as we made our way out of the store. We’d had a busy morning of playing, picnicking, and hiking, so I understood he was tired. But so was I.
As we all got in the car, my own tired mind began to reel. I thought of every negative behavior he’d had lately, and I decided something needed to be done. If he could experience a solid consequence, maybe he’d learn.
Instead of heading for home, I drove to McDonald’s. I prepared myself for Luke’s crying the whole way home. I reminded myself it was going to help him become a better person. When the kids saw where we were, they started asking, “Could I have some ice cream?” I answered yes to the first two kids, but when Luke asked, I said, “Oh, honey, no. I wish you could, but you know what just happened.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then my oldest, Kate, said, “Oh, no! Poor Lukey.” She sounded like she was going to cry. Then Luke’s twin sister, Ally, said in her sweet toddler voice, “Mommy, wemember Lukey felled yesterday and hurt his head. He weally needs some ithe cweam.” Anna, my second born, chimed in with, “Lukey can have my ice cream.” And Kate said, “It’s okay, Anna; he can have mine.” My eyes began to tear up from their sentiments. I didn’t know what to do, when I heard through the car window, “Welcome to McDonalds . . .”
I decided to order four cones. I wasn’t planning on having one, but I reasoned I could keep one depending on what I decided. This bought me time. As we waited in the drive-through line to pay, I heard Kate and Anna planning how they’d each give Luke the top of their ice cream cone. Well, my plan had sure backfired. I never give in when a kid throws a fit about a consequence . . . but Luke wasn’t throwing a fit. But what if he only wasn’t throwing a fit because he was confident he had been rescued. That would be worse. But how do I tell these kids who I’ve taught to always share that they can’t give their brother any of their ice cream?
Darn, parenting is hard! I decided maybe it would be okay if I pretended I was giving him mine; it wouldn’t appear like I bought him one. I said, “It’s okay, girls. I’ll give him mine.”
“No, Mommy; you’re tired,” replied Kate. “You need one.” When I finally convinced the girls I no longer wanted mine, Luke quietly asked, “Can I hab chocolate?”
Are you kidding me? I didn’t respond.
Then, more decidedly, Luke told me, “Get you-self a chocolate one, Mommy.”
This little “beggars can’t be choosers” demand made me even more unsure of what I was doing. But then it occurred to me maybe this lesson, right at this moment, wasn’t meant for Luke; it was for the other three. And it was for me.
Obviously, Luke wasn’t going to experience the consequence in the way I had planned; his sisters had intervened. And I had to learn that this was okay. The “how to behave in a store” lesson had been taught before and would inevitably be taught again. Right now the lesson was about compassion.
My older two girls climbed forward in the van to grab the ice cream cones as I took them from the drive-through window. As I handed the cones out, they waited expectantly to see what I was going to do with the last one. I took it from the window and handed it back to them saying, “And here’s mine that I want to give to Luke.” Their faces lit up, a mixture of relief and love. I knew I’d done the right thing.
The best way we teach our kids is by example. For Luke, I was calm in the store, even when he wasn’t, and for my other kids, I would give up my ice cream cone, even if that wasn’t what I had planned.
My three girls had instinctively been compassionate, so I didn’t have to teach them how to show compassion. I had to show them, by my example, that sometimes compassion trumps other things–in this instance my plan.
What I had to learn that day was that, yes, follow-through is important with discipline because we want our kids to learn. But sometimes exceptions have to be made. We’re not just teaching our kids to act appropriately in public, to follow rules, to clean up after themselves, to be responsible about their work, and the like. More important than any of that, we’re teaching them to love fiercely and to live compassionately.
QUESTION: When have you let compassion trump other, less-important things?
CHALLENGE: Be open to changing your plans when you see an opportunity to show compassion.
Edited by Amanda Lewis.
Image from Shutterstock with graphics by Anna Jenkins.
Sometimes I hesitate because I fear that “if I don’t follow through…” in my original thoughts that they will be sliding down a slippery slope of never ending poor behavior. But when I do make compassion and love my first and foremost motivator it is amazing what happens and so many issues are resolved. We need discipline and follow throughs for sure- but we also need this. I needed to hear this today- thank you!
Oh, yes! I completely understand the fear of exasperating bad behavior by not following through. That’s exactly how I tend to think, too! That’s why this moment really hit home for me. Thank you so much for your comment! Best of luck navigating this wild adventure of parenting!
(I’m quite sure the word is exacerbating)
Yes, that it is!
I wish I could edit comments!
Love it!! Wonderful post. And yes, I felt right there with you, when ‘the plan’ backfires. I often run into the problem though of just my oldest being the compassionate one, and the one to give up and sacrifice for the others… so I am times have had to stick with the withholding just to help the less compassionate one learn that her brother will not always bail her out. Parenting is tough!
I can definitely relate to that situation, as well!
Oh, yes, parenting sure is tough!
Do you have any retreats coming up? I have a few people interested in some in person retreats but I don’t see any listed on your website.
Try this link, Ali. 🙂
https://powerofmoms.com/upcoming-retreats-and-workshops/
I did and there’s nothing, sorry I thought I was replying to a power of moms post where April or Saren might see the comment
I don’t think there’s anything sooner than what is listed, but I forwarded your email address on, and if there is, someone will let you know. 🙂
I’m betting you couldn’t have gone through with it no matter what his little crime was. Eating ice cream in front of a 3 year old sounds like cruel and unusual punishment! Lol. Your other children are the compassionate heroes of this story. Love it!