My Judah

Sometimes it helps to have a visual. These are pictures of Judah "all dressed up" at our friends' house. Obviously, he's a bit obsessed with weapons right now. He also got into some make-up. His favorite thing to do besides read books is play dress-up and act out all the stories he has been reading.

I just wanted you to see what he normally looks like before I share a recent experience. This is the little person God has entrusted to me. This is the one I have the privilege of home-educating. This is the one who mirrors back to me all that I say and do. This is the one who brings me joy every day of my life. This is the one who can push buttons that I didn't even know existed.

And now for the story . . .

A day or two after Thanksgiving, I was preparing to take a meal to some friends who had just had a baby. James came home from work to put together his famous creamy tomato-basil soup and berry zing salad. I managed to get everything in the car on time and was just about to leave when I realized I had forgotten the bag of baby stuff that I meant to grab. I ran back in the house, and when I came back out, I saw that Judah had climbed over the back seat of the van and landed in the salad.

I lost it.

I really lost it.

I don't think I've lost it (with Judah) to the degree that I lost it that day. I reached over the back seat and swatted his leg five times. (Normally, I ask him to go to the bathroom and wait for me--gives me time to cool down and provides a private place for correction. Normally, I give his leg ONE swat. The whole time, I'm calm and in control of my emotions. I explain why I can't let him do what he did. I tell him I love him. I hold him or give him space--depending on what he needs. That's normal. This was not normal.) Once I stopped swatting him, I shouted, "What were you thinking?" and walked away. I walked down the road almost to the neighbor's house. I turned around and told him to get in the house and get me some napkins.

"Okay, Mommy."

He didn't cry. He didn't protest.

He came back with a wad of napkins.

"Mommy, are you happy I got these for you?"

I'm fuming. I'm absolutely furious. I need him to go away for his own protection. "Judah, go in the house and wait for me."

"Okay, Mommy."

I get things cleaned up and go inside. He's sitting at the bottom of the stairs. I sit down next to him. I repent. I tell him that I was really frustrated that he messed up the salad. I tell him that even when I'm frustrated, I need to remember that he's more important than salad. I ask his forgiveness. He forgives me. We embrace. He says, "Mommy, your necklace is really beautiful." We get in the car and take a slightly modified meal to our friends.

That was almost two months ago.

A couple days ago, Judah and I were downstairs waiting for Miriam and Daddy to wake up. Judah kept getting loud and I kept telling him to be quiet. At one point, I was looking out the door and he came running down the hall behind me, shouting. Shouting! I turned around and smacked his arm. He started to get pouty. I told him that he needed to be quiet while Daddy and Mira were sleeping. He sat at the bottom of the stairs and I sat on the couch. We were facing each other. I started to look at the computer when he says to me, "Mommy. Mommy." very seriously.

He continues, "Do you remember yesterday [for Judah, yesterday is any time before today] when I stepped on the salad [I'm thinking--salad? What salad? My mind is racing for that moment. Oh, yes. I remember.] and you said you needed to remember that I was more important than salad?"

"Yes, Judah, I remember that."

"Well, you need to do that now."

Wow. He remembered. He walks over to me, climbs in my lap, and I ask him, "Do you want me to remember that you're more important than salad or more important than something else?"

"More important than salad."

"You're right, Judah, you're more important than salad. And I need to remember that. Thank you for reminding me."

I cuddle him and laugh with him and offer to read some books, which will be a quiet activity for us to enjoy untill the rest of the family wakes up. He shouts, "Yeah! Let's read books together!" Oh, Judah, it's so hard for you to remember to be quiet.

Speaking of reading, I've started reading The Chronicles of Narnia to him. When Polly disappears at the end of the first chapter, Judah looks at me wide-eyed and says, "That's just pretend, right?" We read two chapters yesterday. He would have sat through another chapter if my eyes could have stayed open that long.

I love that he has such a voracious appetite for books. I'm constantly amazed at his vocabulary. Tonight he says to me, "Miriam struck me in the neck with a straw." Struck. Nice verb. Yes, of course, I told him it was a nice verb. That's the kind of verb I was trying to get my junior high kids at New Song Christian Academy to use in their writing.

I need to start writing down all the things he interprets (rather than memorizes). For example, for Judah, a "finger pin" is a thumb tack.

On a somewhat different note but still related to reading, I checked out a book from the library on Friday and I'm already halfway through it. I'm absolutely devouring it. It's called For the Children's Sake: Foundations of Education for Home and School by Susan Schaeffer Macaulay. The author is the daughter of Francis Schaeffer, author of A Christian Manifesto and How Should We Then Live: The Rise and Decline of Western Thought and Culture. Oh, I love this book.

In Chapter 4, "A New Perspective: Education is a Discipline," Schaeffer writes,

"Let me list a few successes we parents rejoice in when our children manage to produce them (perhaps as listed on a report card!):

Child X has a habit of attention; he concentrates well. He applies himself to whatever task is at hand, to the best of his ability. He thinks for himself, and has a rich creative imagination. He remembers what he has read or heard. He achieves a good standard in his work. He is obedient and careful. He is truthful. He respects others, and enjoys his own life with cheerful enthusiasm.

If such a child ever existed, his education would have been unusually successful."

For the most part, I feel as though this describes Judah. We are, of course, always working on all of these things--especially the "respects others" part. But I love the person that he is and the person that he is becoming. He is a delight to me. And, as you can now see, he contributes--with kindness and care and gentleness--to my humility. And I let him.