The Pain of Consequences

Her blue eyes were blotchy and wet as she peered into mine.  This was last Sunday.  This image will be burned into my memory for awhile, I’m sure.  What makes it stronger is that I can tie her sad, scratchy Ella voice to it.  “Bye, Cal,” she said, waving to Cal who was already sitting in his seat in the back of the car.  She stood in the middle of the garage.  “Bye, Cal, I can’t go, have fun without me” she said, tears streaming down her face.  It's possible I was being played at the time, but it sure did sound genuine.

I knelt down in front of Ella and looked down at her shoe.  The lace was all knotted up.  Did her pleas for help start out pleasant?  I was kicking myself.  Maybe they didn’t.  But I couldn’t help but think they did.  Had I helped her right away, she’d be in that car, likely getting under Cal's skin, but she’d be in it. As I worked on the knot and tied her shoe for her, I calmly yet firmly explained to her why she wasn’t going with us to the apple orchard, complete with its fun tractor ride and haystacks.

Sad choices… again.

Disrespect of Mommy and Daddy… again.

Mean words… again.

Didn’t listen… again.

As I talked with her about why she wasn’t going, she looked at and listened to me.  Our eyes met and locked in.  She didn’t challenge my words.  She didn’t beg me to let her go.  She knew she was in the wrong.  She knew there was no going back.  She knew she wouldn’t be going, that Cal and I would have an afternoon together at our favorite orchard while she stayed back with Dan.

And as I talked to her, I battled giving in to her and letting her go.  She was so sad.  It hurt me as much as it hurt her not to be able to go with us.  Maybe more.  This is an annual trip that I’ve grown to love and look forward to despite some of the stresses that accompany it.  It’s the place where I take pictures of the kids that land on our Christmas card.  The kids love it, too, valuing their time on and in those simple haystacks beyond what I can even comprehend.  Oh, how I wanted to use her seemingly sincere acknowledgement of her wrongdoings and her clear hurt over not going as a justifiable reason to let her go.

Ordinarily, I might have.  Strike that – I’m sure I would have.  But 24 hours earlier I had demanded of Dan that there be consequences to her yelling at us and treating us with disrespect as we were in the middle of handling a really tough round of it, where we were each handling her differently and not necessarily agreeing on the effectiveness of either approach.  I couldn’t back down so quickly after that; and I used that as my motivation to stay the course on our decision after another tough round of Ella’s attitude on Sunday.

I give her a lot of credit.  I suppose I really don't know how much she really understood why she wasn't going and that the behavior she exhibited is never acceptable, but she handled it with a calmness rarely seen in these circumstances.  I fully expected to have to pry her out of the backseat, furthering our struggle and risking brevity to Cal's day at the orchard that he deserved to enjoy to its fullest.  Yet Ella handled it with grace and acceptance.  She had to have understood at least some of it, else, I'm certain I'd be telling a story of defiance and meanness, righteousness and yelling, utter disrespect.  But I'm not.  Having witnessed this, I know the likelihood of her learning to control herself and treat others with respect is high if I hold my ground on hurtful consequences as much as it might equally hurt me to enforce those consequences.

Oh, that image of Ella peering into my eyes with her wet, blotchy, beautiful blues!  It hurts.  But, oh, how important it is to raise a respectful child!