All the games

Samuel was 3 years old. It was getting late as usual and I STILL hadn’t gotten him into bed. This was about the age when Samuel would begin to actually REMEMBER to brush his teeth before bed, but usually only when it was getting really late and I’d be desperately trying to “settle him down.”

So, Samuel had begun to become very diligent about picking out just the right pajamas, having the night light on and having the door cracked just exactly that 5 inches or so (just enough to see when mommy or daddy were coming down the hall so he could flatten like a pancake, shut his eyes and play dead if we came to “check” on him).

After the second trip to the bathroom, and a ½ glass of water, Samuel was insistent on reading another story because the first was “too short.” At that point, completely exhausted from chasing the whirlwind that was young motherhood with 2 little boys 15 months apart and one little boy (Ben) who at this point appeared to be nocturnal, I walked out to go get Dan in the hopes that he could give this bedtime thing t a whirl.

Dan walked into the kid’s bedroom and said “Look Samuel, tonight we’re going to go to bed. We’re not going to play games.” Samuel, being highly intelligent and equally animated stood straight up, spread his tiny fingers at the end of his little hands, looked directly up with his big sky blue eyes and while waving his hands back and forth as if preparing to pull a rabbit out of a hat, exclaimed, “Oh…I’m gonna play AAALLLLLLLL the games!!”

Wow. “Well” I thought, “at least he’s honest.” That hasn’t changed. The games haven’t either. In fact, here’s something weird; either playing the “games” is in fact a genetic condition, and each and everyone one of my four children inherited the “games” gene, or this is common among a vast majority of children.

My four adorable little creatures actually really do have a secret sixth sense. We all know that moms have keen intuition and just KNOW when something weird, wrong, or strange is happening with our kids but I hadn’t realized for quite some time that these little people have a very similar sense.

For example: I work from home. Talking on the phone is an important part of how I earn a living. It’s what I do when I’m “working” from home. I type on my computer, and talk on the phone. My kids know that. It’s been this way for years. Nothing’s changed.

However, most adults are on the phone at various times for various reasons. While not every phone call I take, or make is part of my “work”, It appears that my kids can detect exactly how important each call is - and to varying degrees. I’m not sure if it’s my body language, the fact that I try to “occupy” them busily while preparing for a scheduled call, or the fact that I often beg and plead on bended knee for a silent, and injury free 30 minutes. Whatever the case – as soon as that phone goes up to my ear…..let the games begin!!

Each and every time I’m on an important call whether it’s with one of Ben’s doctors, or a prospective client for my work, one of my children will have become injured, endure hurt feelings, need to tell something extremely important about one of their brothers or sisters, need help on the toilet, or have a life changing epiphany that they MUST share with me immediately.
The arguments inevitably begin about 3 or 4 minutes into the call. I start to pace, try to shoe them into another room and close my eyes in order to stay “in the zone” on my call. Oops, look at that – now one of the little ones has tried to pour themselves a cup of juice – and it’s gone down their arm instead of into the cup. Thank the good Lord above for the “mute” button! I say in hyper-speed auctioneer style….”did I say you could have juice? What are you doing?? UUHH! Please, go downstairs and play!”

With that I think I’ve got things under control – for about 2 minutes, just as I’m back into the full swing of my conversation – really thinking I’ve got this things mastered…and there it is. The shrill, high pitched SCREEAAM.

I run to by bedroom, shut the door behind me and start sweating – talking slightly louder now so as to try to drown out the background noise a story away.

Don’t think I’m callous. I don’t panic when I hear the scream, because it was not preceded by a loud clunk or thud – so I know no one is injured…..YET.

It’s only moments before they find me now – they know exactly where to look. Can I get out my sentence with grace and poise BEFORE slamming myself onto mute so as not to shell shock the person on the other phone when the tornado hits my bedroom door?

At this point, the games have truly only just begun. Now they’ve got me. Now they’re at the door and I’ve just been asked an important question for which I need to at least try to sum up an intelligent answer so, what are my choices? Well, there’s that awfully inviting window. The one I’ve thought of jumping out of on several occasions during times like this (don’t get too worried, it’s only one story up and at this point I wouldn’t risk jumping only to land in a pile of dog poop – one of the very piles that my oldest son promised he’d clean up 4 days ago) or there’s the more likely scenario of me literally trying to RUN past the noise – into the kitchen fast enough to open a box of popsicles and motion in my own secret sign language that only the “players” understand. It goes a little something like this: if they can manage to be quiet – they’ll get one…or 2….or 4 popsicles (depending on how long this conversation lasts).

While I’m circling around the house from room to room trying to stay quick enough so no one can catch me – but not so quick so that you sound out of breath – the very sweet little faces that I’m trying to out run, know exactly what I’m doing. And they take advantage of it.

They’ve got the TV on, my new wrapping paper completely unraveled, the cat dressed like a monkey and they’re now pretending to be cats themselves, complete with “snacks” in bowls on the ground next their little “water bowls” ON THE CARPET!

They learned pretty early on that I really can’t yell at them. Not the way I would when I’m fairly certain that only me and Jesus (and perhaps an unfortunate neighbor with an open window) can hear me. So, they will begin asking me questions in THEIR own secret silent language - mouthing words and suggestively shaking their heads yes while I absent mindedly agree with a reciprocal head shake – only to find out later I just gave them “permission” to turn on the garden hose and spray down the patio furniture AND each other!!

I am embarrassed to admit that on several occasions while having another conversation, I have actually opened packs of cookies or potato chips FOR my children that I’ve been handed, and in an amnesia-like state without even thinking about it opened them for my children – MULTIPLE TIMES. Did they ask if they could have cookies? No! But, they handed it to me for me to open for them. And I did.

So, is this learned behavior? Nope. It’s this pesky little thing called sin. And, it is indeed inherited. They were born with it. I was too. They’re just being human beings – trying to get what they WANT in life, but not necessarily what’s good for them.

Do I do this? I think so. I think I’m always on the lookout for a new “system” (game) that will help me achieve what I want in life – not necessarily what is best for me. As an adult I know I’m getting better at making decisions, but if I’m left to my impulses and if I’m operating in a mindset of “my” wants and desires while I think God is tied up helping everyone else at the moment – I’m headed for trouble.

The next best book, program, system, theory, mantra, prayer – you name it. It all looks great at the moment because I’m human…and seemingly rarely satisfied with what God has given me at this very moment. “But she’s got....” “But he’s doing….” “But they get too….” What must this sound like to God?

God is very busy at work. He needs our cooperation. He needs our assistance to accomplish enormous things not only in our own lives but in the lives of others. Can I be patient and quiet while following directions? Am I like a child – always busting into His work, trying to manipulate the timing of it all? Is there a very important reason why He needs me to wait or be “still” for a time being while He works diligently in the back drop of my life for the greater good? Hm. Me and my kids. We’re not so different.

Can I get my kids to “behave” like little angels every time I’m on the phone? Not sure about that, but I know one thing to be true – as they get older and more mature, they will begin to appreciate the work I did while they were small. They’ll see how it shaped all of our lives as a whole and how it allowed us to live the life we lived while they were young. They’ll understand why I needed them to be quiet, and it will all make sense to them. If only I could get them to see what I see. If only God could get us to see what He sees. How differently would we behave? How “urgent” would all those little things be that we needed, wanted, and had to do?