Tomato Staking

Raising children is a journey. We walk a long winding path that leads us through cheerful meadows, but that path is bound to descend into dark and difficult stretches. A couple of my children were very strong-willed when they were small. I recall attending a homeschool meeting one evening when my five-year-old had decided he did not want to be there. Before we bundled him out of their home, he had played “bat the pull chain” with the ceiling fan and had jumped from couch to chair to chair to couch around their living room. Nothing like asking for attention and making mom and dad desperately embarrassed! This child could not be left in a room with other children without making someone break down in tears. This was a time where the path narrowed and became very steep; the night was rainy and the new moon gave no light to help us.

I prayed. I cried. And then I decided that I needed to tomato stake. At the time I did not know anything about tomato staking—this is a new term to me. Yet it is a good way to describe what I did. When I grow tomatoes in the garden, I can let them trail all over the ground or I can carefully place a stake next to them and gently tie them up as they grow. When the plant produces fruit, the staked plant’s tomatoes stay clean and have room to grow. The plant that sprawls on the ground has fruit that is squashed between the vines and is dirty, and the slugs and dampness of the earth can leave them less than perfect. A child that is staked, like the tomato, is trained to do what is good by gently tying him to you—so that his fruit will also be good.

I began by telling my son that he would need to stay where I could see and hear him. I also called him over to work with me whenever he could help in the task. We hoed in the garden and washed dishes together. He scrubbed the sink while I cleaned the shower. When he played with his brother and sister, he did so in a place that I could see what was happening, and as soon as my instincts told me that he was headed for trouble, I called to him to do something different—some days I got the play-dough out and set him at the kitchen table; other times he joined me by helping me work. I can honestly tell you that this was not easy for either of us! Some days we had quite frankly had enough of each other, and I chose, in desperation, to set the “dear” child in front of a video. Sometimes I did this because I needed a respite; other times he was simply too tired and cranky to be capable of obeying me. For a whole year we lived this way—slowly allowing the apron strings to get a little longer. As he showed me he could be trusted, I allowed him more freedom. If the freedom was abused, we drew the circle between us a little smaller. It was exhausting.

A child who is angry and troublesome is not cooperative! It was not fun to pull weeds with a child who was mad at me! As we worked side by side, I found that it help if we talked. I told him that I loved him. I talked about what I wanted for him as he grew up—to be an honorable person whom others could trust and rely upon. I told him stories about people who did not learn to abide by the rules (the news is full of these). When he was mean to other children, we discussed what it meant to be a friend, how we needed to act in order to have friends, and what we could learn from God’s love that showed us how we should treat others. I also shared my struggles with this child. I spoke about areas in my life that I was trying to improve—I told him that I prayed and meditated so that I could remain calm with my children. I talked about the times I lost my temper or raised my voice at him and discussed how I was working hard on changing my behavior so that I could be a better mother. I tried to be a real person to this child so that he could see that all of us struggle to do what is good—it is part of being human.

I also learned to listen. This child loved to tell me about a video he had seen—over and over and over again. He chattered about what was important to him, and I listened to all his let’s pretend stories, Lego building experiences, and silly humor. I asked him questions and I paid attention to him. As he worked beside me, I began to look deeply into his soul and I learned to love him all over again. When a child takes a turn towards rebellion, it is easy to forget how much we love him, but this is the very time in his life when he needs to feel that love more than ever. This is not easy. When they make us hurt, we like to retaliate; so we are left struggling with our own emotions and frustrations. We are stretched and forced to grow and mature. Children do this to us whether we like it or not. It is a painful experience that teaches us about ourselves, about our own shortcomings.

Today I have a teenaged son. One day he had invited me to go over to the woods with him, and as he drove up on the gator to give me a ride, I saw him dust the seat off next to him for me. He has a deeper voice now, and I have to look up when I speak to him. He has a wonderful sense of humor. Although his antics around the house can drive us a little crazy, I have a responsible child whom I can trust. He obeys me and I do not sense any of that old rebellion inside him—I am so glad we took the time to win the battle when he was a five year old! This same child now works with the children in an AWANA program; he listens to verses and leads games. The adults who work with him tell me how much they appreciate him and that he is a good role model for the children.

Tomato staking was a long, arduous task. I spent a lot of days feeling like a failure. I felt helpless and many times I felt like tossing my apron over my head for a good cry. I am glad, however, that I did not give up. The effort was more than worthwhile. I sense that I would not have such a peaceful teenager if I had not addressed the problems of my 5 year old. I suggest to anyone whose young child needs tomato staking that you do, indeed, take the time and effort to do so. The rewards are good.