Listening

"Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. The friends who listen to us are the ones we move toward. When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand. "
~Karl A. Menninger 

Today was an interesting day to say the least.  Quiet morning.  I should have known it wouldn't stay that way.  Very busy afternoon.  Ran late to pick the kids up.  Ran late to church.  As usual.

Went to parenting class while the kids were in Awana's.   Tonight's topic was listening to your kids, not talking at them.  Learned a lot of good techniques.  I love this class.  Wish it was going to last longer than 3 more weeks.

Leaving somewhere almost always takes at least 15 minutes for us.  Tonight was no exception.  We ended up leaving church at 9:15.  As we get to the truck, Jacob decides to lay down on the ground and roll.  In the parking lot.  OK.  Here goes.  I need to listen to him and communicate.  Normally I would drag his ornery little butt into the truck and lecture him on the way home.  Not tonight.  

I ask him what's going on.  He's "freaked out" because I only let him keep 1 light on at night.  He wants two.  Alright.  I make a deal with him - he goes right to sleep and I'll keep the light on.  We're done now, right?  Noooo.  He is still freaked out.  So I sit down in the middle of the parking lot (he's still rolling around) and talk.  He's stalling.  I know it.  But there's a reason he needs my attention.  Still haven't figured it out, but he knows what it was.  I make a deal with him that I will leave the girls at Grandma's on Saturday and he and I will have some special time together.  He wants to do pottery.  Pottery it is.  

9:30.  Finally home.  Walk up the steps to our apartment.  The kids are first because they are running up the steps as usual.  They start screaming bloody murder.  I rush to beat to a pulp whoever dared frighten my children.  No one is there.  At first I think I see a bat.  It ends up being a pigeon.  Pretty little thing.  It seems dazed and confused.  I figure it must have hit a window.  

I finally get the kids past the bird and into the apartment.  Kiara, my brave one, brings me back a box.  I speak to the bird (I have him pigeon-holed in the corner lol).  "Bird - I'm tired and I need to get my kids in bed.  You need to go into the box nicely and not fly up and attack me.  I am simply taking you downstairs so you don't injure yourself."  The bird very kindly scoots into the box with very little prodding.  Down the stairs and he doesn't flutter once.  "OK bird, I am letting you go.  Please do not fly up at me."  Off with the lid.  But he's not leaving the box.  Fine.  I leave bird and box in the grass next to the tree.  The bird definitely listens better than my kids though.

So, I listened.  To God; to Jacob; to nature.  The bird listened and trusted.   Maybe, just maybe, Jacob listened.  So I hope as the bird unfolds and expands it's wings, so do I.  And maybe by doing so, Jacob will learn from my example.  Even if it means sitting cross-legged in a church parking lot at 9:15 on a school night.