Small Victories

The Sunday before Easter when I picked Ethan up from his 2-year-old class, I was told by one of his teachers that I needed to work with him during the week over a little problem of disobedience he was having: crawling under the table instead of sitting in his chair at the table. She added that he wasn’t the only one doing this, but I know my son. He probably led the crowd. Sigh. Another reminder of how far I fall as a parent.

I was quite happy to discover that when I asked Ethan what he had learned in Sunday School that day he could tell me that Jesus healed the sick. We then talked about not crawling under the table. Later when I asked him again (for Ed’s benefit) what he had learned in his class that day he shook his head sagely and declared, “Don’t crawl under the table.” So much for the story on Jesus. But to obey is better than sacrifice – right?

On Good Friday, Ed and I were asked to read some verses during the service. We agreed but then I had to back pedal and state maybe just Ed should read. Emry could be coaxed to stay in the pew, but Ethan? Not for a million dollars. Our church, though, is very encouraging to families and said we were more than welcome to bring up the kids. So, we did. Emry stood quite happily by our legs. Ethan started that way, but I had to pick him up just as it was my turn to read. He thought that was great, started to “read” with me and then decided he wanted to do it solo and reached for the mike. When I tried to gently move his hand away, he grabbed my hand and stated emphatically, “No, Mama!” I just kept on reading while Ed took Ethan…who didn’t like that but I was on the last verse. He then insisted on walking down the steps from the podium himself. As if I don’t get embarrassed enough when everyone is looking at me…

Another mother I know at church told me afterwards how nice it was to see a realfamily up there – two-year-old and all! I met Ethan’s Sunday School teachers on the way out of church (who, I think, are old enough to be my grandparents), and she remarked, “So, what we see in class is the real Ethan.” I laughed and joked that he certainly is the real deal, but inside I wanted to shrink and hide. What else did he do in class?!?!?! And how bad a mother am I?!?!?

I know, I know. I shouldn’t worry too much that I’m raising a juvenile delinquent. He’s a little boy. He knows his own mind. Like all of us, he’s a sinner. And, really, Ethan can be very sweet. He says “thank you” for everything, he can be very generous and he loves to give me hugs and kisses. But sometimes I wish that, at least in public, he could act perfect. Like Emry. Like a Sturm. But, no. He’s Ethan.

Since there was no Sunday School on Easter Sunday, we worked an extra week on “not crawling under the table”. And I prayed he would obey! When I dropped him off at his class on Sunday, we had the first small victory: he didn’t cry! (Something he has done every time we drop him off at class since he was at least 9 months old…) And when I picked him up…well, he was lying on his carpet square like he was supposed to and I wasn’t told he had been under the table, so…another small victory!

At least until next week…