At the end of last weekend, which we spent working in the yard, Craig and I thought we would take a few moments to relax and actually enjoy our garden. It had been a hot and blazingly sunny day with temperatures in the high 80s, but by 6:00 p.m. the sun was finally filtered through a big oak tree, a breeze was blowing off the bay, and it was very pleasant. Craig poured us each a glass of chilled white wine and we set up the lounge chairs side by side on the lawn. The light was slanted and golden; the whole yard smelled of roses.
As we leaned back in our chairs and sipped our wine, I read aloud from Easy Hiking in Northern California in preparation for our upcoming camping trip to Yosemite National Park. I think the reading, which Isaac found incredibly dull, is what pushed him over the edge. For a little while he played nearby, pretending to garden. Then we became aware that he was playing with the hose.
"Is that still turned on?" Craig asked a little nervously.
It was. Isaac carefully set the nozzle to "jet" and began to vigorously water the lawn. We watched in uneasy silence. We knew we couldn't tell him not to spray us, because there's no greater temptation to sin than being forbidden. We could have leaped up and turned the hose off at the spigot, or even taken the hose from Isaac's hands, but for some reason we were frozen in our seats. Perhaps we were hopeful that the worst would not come to pass.
But it did, and Isaac turned the hose on Craig.
Craig was furious, of course. While he went inside to change his clothes, I sat Isaac down on the lounge chair and gave him a brief lecture: No, no, no, you cannot spray anyone with the hose. Does Isaac like it when the sprinkler gets him wet? No. Does he like to be sprayed with the hose? No. Well, Daddy doesn't like it either. I also turned off the water at the spigot.
Craig came back out, and we made the mistake of trying to resume our reading. A bigger mistake, in retrospect, was letting Isaac continue to play with the hose -- especially because I hadn't drained the water that remained in it. Moments later, Isaac turned the hose on Craig again, and although there wasn't that much water left, there was enough to get Craig wet.
Craig was even more furious, of course. Later he told me that he felt a little bad about how angry he had gotten, but I said I thought he was allowed to feel angry, and I found it admirable that he hadn't done anything hurtful or destructive with his anger. I also reminded him that seven months ago when Isaac turned the hose on me, I didn't control my anger very well -- I returned fire!
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Yesterday as I was watering, Isaac began systematically tipping rocks off the edge of our stone wall. After he had pushed over three of them, I asked him to try to control himself. He stopped for a moment, his back still to me, and I could see his muscles quivering as he eyed one of the last big rocks.
He finally turned toward me and said, "But I don't want to control myself."
So I set down my hose and went over to help him.
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Yesterday he also drew all over his arms with orange marker. I stood by and watched him do it. I figured if I swooped in and grabbed the marker out of his hands, it would become a fascinating forbidden activity, one he was sure to attempt every time he picked up a marker.
It was a washable marker, anyway. Plus it was pretty funny to watch him carefully draw on his arms, from his palms on up, although I hope I kept my face impassive. The best part was after he had set the marker down, when he was admiring his handiwork.
"I forgot my elbows!" he exclaimed, and he carefully turned his arms over so he could color the pointy tip of each of his elbows. After he had completed the job, he once again examined his arms, and declared that he now had tattoos.
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Lessons learned?
- If your kid sprays someone with the hose, don't let him play with the hose any more.
- If your kid pushes over rocks, help him stop sooner rather than later.
- If your kid colors on himself with a marker ... well, try not to laugh. Actually, I washed his arms very throughly right after he was done coloring, which he didn't like, so I think I provided a suitably discouraging experience.
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