Don't Cry Over Spilled Crayons

I've said this before, but it always surprises me how my teaching moments for Ryan turn into teaching moments for me. This particular lesson centered around crayons. Lots of crayons.

Normally, Ryan's pretty good about picking up after himself so long as I'm there to help. Last weekend, however, I decided to help him clean up everything but his crayons. He had dumped the entire bag on the floor just to be funny, and I wanted him to clean it up by himself. 

I started basic. "Ryan, pick up your crayons." He ignored me. I tried again. "Ryan, please pick up your crayons." This time he ran away saying, "no!" That earned him his first time out. A few minutes later, we tried again. "Ryan, pick up your crayons." He grabbed Brown Bear and ran away. Brenton caught him and took away the toy saying, "Ryan, you can have Brown Bear back once you put away your crayons." Total meltdown. Ryan started crying, begging for Brown Bear, and my patience was drained. I folded my arms and stood over him saying, "Ryan, we'll do this for hours if we have to, but you're picking up these crayons! Just do it! Just pick them up!" To no avail. After a few more tries with time outs and stern voices, nearly half an hour went by and not a single crayon was picked up. Ryan was miserable and I was exasperated. 

At this point, I was sitting on the floor staring at the crayons with every intention of picking them up myself, putting Ryan to bed, and chalking it all up to experience. I had reached my breaking point. For me, this is usually the time when the Savior comes in and teaches. As I sat there holding the empty bag for the crayons I thought, "does the Savior stand over me, chastising when I make a mistake and refuse to clean it up, or does He listen to me and encourage me to be better?" After a deep breath, I picked up my son, held him close, gave him a few kisses and told him how much I loved him. Then I picked up the empty bag and said, "can you bring the crayons to me?" Instantly, my sweet little boy eagerly picked up every single crayon and placed it in the bag while we sang the "Clean-up" song together. Inside of two minutes the floor was crayon-free. When he was finished, Ryan threw his hands up in the air and said, "Tah-dah!" He was so proud of himself, and with tears in my eyes I learned that children respond far better to love than anger. 

Ryan picked up every single one of his crayons. I didn't help him. I wish it wouldn't have taken me so long to figure this lesson out, but I'm grateful at how quick to forgive little children are. I'm sure Ryan has since forgotten this entire experience, but it certainly left an impression on me. Sometimes in life we intentionally make a mess. Maybe we think it's funny, or maybe we want to get back at someone else. Either way it's our responsibility to clean it up, but the Savior is always there with His hands outstretched, coaching and motivating us through the repentance process, encouraging us to do better. That's the kind of parent I want to be. Lesson learned.