Forced Grace and Hurt Feelings

Patrick (our little angel) got in trouble more than once this weekend. And his parents got a crystal clear glimpse of Patrick-the-Teenager (ugh).

Kevin and I have an unspoken agreement: patience and laughter before beat-downs and screaming. Sunday morning Patrick put us through our paces. We woke up kinda late for church. Early enough to rush out the door in complete chaos but late enough to suck my will to rush. We had enough time for one of us to make it to church and Kevin won the coin toss. Since I am a bit high-maintenance (hair, make-up, wardrobe, etc) it was fair.

Patrick woke up grumpy and complaining. Momma don't play that game! It is 67 degrees in January, praise the Lord and pass the Cheetos baby! grumble grumble this, that and the other thing. I finally told him if all he was going to do was complain, he needed to get his little self to church with Dad. Kevin thought that was an EXCELLENT idea (reason number 4298 why I love my husband). Patrick thought it was a HORRIBLE idea and complained for the 8 minutes that it took to get ready for church. I had already made him get dressed in decent clothes (jeans and a rugby shirt), which was part of the grumbling.

I was ready to call the Super Secret Agency (the one that specializes in naughty kids) to come pick him up as he whined and moaned and cried. Kevin did yank him out of the car for a non-corporal punishment attitude adjustment. I went back inside to start packing up any semblance of fun in his room.

As soon as they got home Patrick announced in his usual cheery voice, "I didn't have any fun with Daddy in big church." I excused myself and asked Kevin if I could relieve Patrick of his beloved Star Wars Legos as punishment. No dice. Patrick apologized and we proceeded on with our day.

My darling son (oh mini-me) got in trouble again today (more than once). I got after him (skipped right over patience blah blah to screaming) and hurt his feelings, or so he says. I told him that I would hurt his feelings every time he acted bad, 100% guarantee. Keith and I did comfort him. Except when you are 21 months old, pats are more like hits and 2 seconds with the new stuffed lamb should make it all better. There is no price for the brotherhood.