Character Training at Home: It’s Worth It, Mama!

This post contains a real-life parenting story, 3 mistakes I made, and 3 lessons I learned about the importance of character training at home. Encouragement for moms who are discouraged!

It was A DAY.

The middle of winter is hard, and the kids and I were all feeling the effects of too little outside time. School was a struggle and a half, everyone was hyper, the house was a mess, and I couldn’t seem to focus on anything. I decided we should all go to the grocery store after nap time (Mistake #1) because we needed a few things for supper, so we bundled up, drove there, and immediately remembered why I never go anywhere in the afternoon if humanly possible.

The store was a zoo, the kids were tired and hungry, and once we had finally finished our shopping, there was only one actual human cashier in the entire massive store. This store which we usually love and frequent multiple times a week has lately been pushing everyone towards the expanded self-checkout lanes, and on this occasion I decided that we couldn’t wait in the super-long line for the human cashier anymore and would have to do self-checkout (Mistake #2).

Now, I have nothing against new technology and self-checkout is wonderful in many circumstances, but when you have a giant cart overflowing with groceries for seven people plus four hangry children who won’t stop asking questions while you’re trying to punch in the codes for all your produce plus a toddler who keeps climbing out of his seat and wandering off every other minute, self-checkout puts you on the fast track to LOSING YOUR MIND, or at the very least, your temper.

To further complicate our checkout, two of the boys wanted to pay for their Matchbox cars in cash, the coins jammed in the machine, and we had to switch to a new one. After what felt like several hundred hours, we eventually paid for everything (I think? I hope?) and staggered out of the store. Everyone was a little worse for the wear, except for Wandering Toddler, who was in fact extremely pleased with Mom’s failure to put him in a cart with a seat buckle (make that Mistake #1.5).

We got back home, I realized I didn’t have time to make what I originally planned for dinner, so I hurriedly came up with a plan B and threw it together – in between consoling the super-hangry toddler, wiping up the large glass of water Little Sister spilled, and mediating an argument between two brothers. Thankfully, supper turned out decently and only a little bit late – which normally would not be an issue at all, except that this was also our one night a week where we need to leave the house promptly after supper due to the three boys having swim lessons.

Finally, as I sat in the hallway of our local high school waiting for swim lessons to end, I had a moment to breathe. So, naturally, I started thinking through the day and all the many ways in which it was a failure (as one does). School – basically a wash. The house – still a total mess. Dinner – not what I had planned. My mental space – still in shambles from the Grocery Store Fiasco. However, as I sat and thought, more moments from the day gently pushed into my memory and I began to see that this day was filled with good that even outweighed the failures, mostly involving moments of character training at home.

One brother spent a long period of his free time helping Little Sister build a small mini-golf course in the sun room and then patiently playing through it with her.

Little Sister and I noticed in the morning that God had answered one of her specific prayers from the night before.

While we were at the store and brothers #2 & 3 were debating which Matchbox car to buy with their hard-earned money, brother #1 noticed a car dropped on the floor and (without asking) picked it up and put it away on the shelf. For some kids this might be an easy, everyday occurrence – nothing worth noting – but for him it is not, and I was so pleased to see it.

I had a long-overdue conversation with one brother about how to speak in a way that would not frustrate his younger brother and it appeared that we made some progress.

Little Sister received a much-needed consequence for teasing a brother; something I had been putting off for far too long.

I found some time alone with brother #3 and we were able to talk through a fear he was facing.

And, finally, during my frazzled checkout experience at the grocery store, I was able to explain the situation to our older boys, ask for their help, and watch them each do exactly as I asked without complaining. One of them unloaded groceries from the cart to the scanning area, another took the filled bags back to the cart, and the third kept the Wandering Toddler in his seat.

So what is the point in all of this? First of all, contrary to the firmly held belief of one overly-dramatic child in our family, one bad experience does not a Failed Day make.

Secondly, school is not everything. Now, I am not normally the type who needs to be reminded of this. Our homeschool has generally been more on the “wild & free” end of the spectrum rather than the “recreate a classroom” end, partially on purpose but partially out of necessity during all the exhausting years of pregnancy and sleep-less newborns. But this year, with no pregnancy or newborns in sight, I have been pushing myself to be more diligent at our work, which makes it a little more frustrating when a day doesn’t go as planned.

Therefore the reminder to myself: there is more, much more, to life than school accomplishments. These moments that I spend coaching attitudes and modeling behaviors and teaching correct responses to difficult situations – these moments of character training at home are ultimately worth far more in the long run than my child’s understanding of long division.

A day spent training character is a day well spent.

Often we homeschoolers will proudly declare that we want to spend this time all-day-every-day with our children so that we can shape their character and teach them morals, but when it comes down to it, do we begrudge the time that it takes? I know I often do. “Why can’t you just stop teasing your brother so we can get through this science book??” It’s easy to say that character training at home is most important, but not so easy to stop in the middle of your day, put the book aside, and actually do it.

Character training will never come up in a standardized test and doesn’t have grade levels. You don’t get accolades from friends and family for making it to the state level of Gentleness League or Self-Control Bowl. We don’t get the satisfaction of completing a course in Kindness, wiping our hands, and saying, “Well, that’s done!” It’s also a very, very long game in which we may not see fruit for months or years or even decades. And did I mention it’s hard? No wonder public schools don’t even try!

No one but a parent would ever have the patience for something like this. No one but God would be able to empower said parent to keep going after the sudden realization that their personal store of patience for the day is utterly gone and we haven’t even finished breakfast.

Thirdly, discouragement is real, and it’s not wrong to feel that way, but it’s also not always the most true portrayal of our day. Yes, there were discouraging aspects to my stressful day, but there were also many good and beautiful moments. Perhaps it is because the “failed” parts feel weightier that we forget that the good moments usually significantly outnumber the failures!

A quiet moment spent asking myself some questions might bring some clarity and balance. “Are these feelings of failure actually true or are they exaggerated? Is there more to the picture that I am forgetting? What can I be thankful for today?”

Indeed, I can be thankful for the difficult moments of parenting because they keep me humble and remind me that I am still not enough for this job! Merely typing up this little story of my little troubles is humbling, because although it was truly stressful for my peace-loving introvert brain, in the grand scheme of things this was not a catastrophe by any measure. No one’s life was in danger, we were not facing war or famine or pestilence or any other true hardship – and shouldn’t I be able to handle a lousy self-checkout with five children on hand?

Answer: no. In myself, I cannot handle anything, but it is God who works in and through me for his glory. Hence, humility and thankfulness.