As a mom, it’s never easy to watch my children struggle to make decisions that I can’t (or at least shouldn’t) make for them. I can offer my two cents worth, suggest possible solutions. But in the end, I can’t force them to choose the way I think is best. With one grown daughter and a 17-year-old on the verge of manhood, I have learned this lesson many times over. That doesn’t make it any easier, especially when it’s my "baby."
Some background. This is my 11-year-old son's second year in band. They are learning more difficult music and techniques, preparing them for marching band next year. A couple of weeks ago, the boys were running a little behind schedule and he asked if I would take his instrument by the bandroom since he wouldn’t have time. I did. The instructor asked me how much Dylan was practicing at home. "Honestly, not that much." He said, "It shows." He was starting to fall behind. I told the instructor I would push him to practice more.
Last week, he came to me asking if I thought he should quit band. My first thought was that somebody had made fun of him or said something bad about him. My feathers got a little ruffled. Of course when I asked him why he was thinking about quitting, all I got was shrugged shoulders and "I dunno." I really didn’t get much more information as we discussed it further, other than, "It’s too hard."
I told him he should bring his instrument home more and practice - he said his teacher didn’t let the band students leave class early enough for him to have time to go all the way to the bandroom and make it back to ride home with his brother.
I told him to just keep his instrument in his locker - he said he didn’t like to leave it in his locker because then he would have to carry some of the things that didn’t fit, and it would require him to have to go to his locker after last period before heading to the parking lot, and he didn’t want to do that.
I suggested that he talk to his sister about going to her house after school a couple days a week to practice. She was in band for several years, played the same instrument, and might be able to help him in some problem areas. But he didn’t know about that either.
I finally just had to say that if he wanted to be in the band, he would have to practice more, and he would just have to find a way to make it work. If he didn’t think he wanted it bad enough to put a little effort into it, maybe be a little inconvenienced at times, then that would be his cue to lay it down. That I could not make a decision based on details and feelings that only he knew and didn’t want to share. I did, however, tell him he would have to finish out the semester in that class either way.
I left the conversation more frustrated than angry. Frustrated that my son would only make excuses when plain, simple solutions were offered him. Frustrated that he wouldn’t just tell me what he wanted to do so I could maybe shed some light on his dilemma, and support him in whatever decision he made.
That brings us to the present situation. This morning as the boys were leaving for school, Dylan got his backpack and his binder and was heading out the door. I asked him did he not need to take his instrument. He said he wouldn’t have time to take it to the bandroom before school started. I looked at the clock and thought he should have plenty of time, but he was in a hurry and I didn’t argue. I figured I would just take it by the bandroom for him. Then I thought about it again. He made the decision to walk out and leave his instrument, knowing he would need it for class, and possibly running the risk of being in trouble with the instructor. He knew all this, and he left it anyway. Probably thinking, as I was, that I would take it for him. But I didn’t. I feel like he is old enough to handle some of the consequences of his decisions. Was I wrong? I feel so bad! Should I have bailed him out? I guess we’ll see.
Does God have this kind of parenting trouble? Dealing with me, of course he does. When I have a problem and ask vague questions, do a lot of shoulder shrugging, and sighing "I just don’t know," instead of just pouring my heart out to Him with all I’m feeling and thinking. And when He offers help and makes a way for me to clearly see the right path, I only come up with excuses of why I can’t walk it. It's that darn free will! He has given us instructions through His Word, but it’s up to us to decide whether or not to apply it to our lives and follow it.
God is always there for us (as I will be for my children any time they ask), even if "being there" means letting us fall flat on our face. As I have found the hard way, He sometimes lets us suffer the consequences of our bad decisions. I can tell my children everything I've learned through my mistakes, as my parents tried to tell me, but it never sinks in until you experience it yourself. Sometimes experience is the best teacher.
I think you did the right thing, Stacie. He's old enough to figure out which consequences he wants to face and which ones he doesn't. Always having Mom to patch things up will do him a terrible disservice. My feeling is that if a person doesn't learn how to follow the rules and face the consequences of their actions as they are growing up, they're sure not going to learn it when they're an adult. They will just spend the rest of their lives blaming others instead of recognizing their own involvement.
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