Running Away

I remember when I was young and tried to run away, around 6 or 7 years old.  I told my mom as I left the house that I was going to live with my grandparents and was walking there (in reality, they lived less than 10 minutes away.)  I made it almost to the end of our driveway when my mom called, "What will you do about the dogs?"
Dogs?
"The mean dogs you find along the way.  How will you protect yourself?"
And with that I changed my mind and decided it wouldn't be too bad to continue living at home.

Today I got to experience the other side of the situation, as the mom. 
We have had a big week with starting to homeschool, writing out house rules, and introducing a chore chart along with discipline cards. This morning was going well until Noah came in contact with a discipline card, the first one to be used.  Actually, two cards because he broke a rule twice.  He drew the cards for "Wipe light switches" and "Wash dinner dishes."  Ellie, who loves to clean (I may have to come up with different discipline cards for her!), was intrigued by this.
"I want a discipline card," she said.
"No, Ellie.  You don't just get one." I told her.
"Well, fine," she answered back, the sassy tone creeping in.  "Then I will not do my schoolwork today." Now, I knew two things: (1) She was acting this way in the hopes of getting a discipline card and (2):
"Ellie, you already finished all your schoolwork."
"Fine.  Then I will NOT listen to Noah read the story," she tried back.
"You don't have to.  It's part of Noah's school work to read to me, not yours."

A short time later she announced:
"I guess you will just have three boys because I am not going to be your girl anymore."
"Is that so?" I asked her.  "Whose girl are you going to be?"
"I will go to another family."
"Oh, really.  Whose?"
"Ummm.....Leighton and Maddie's" she spoke triumphantly.
"Maddie is only 10.  She's not old enough to have a little girl," I countered back.
"Well, then I'll be Jen's girl." (Jen is one of my dearest friends, and Maddie and Leighton's mom.)
I called Jen and told her Ellie did not want to be part of our family anymore but would like to join theirs. 
Jen laughed and said, "Fine, but tell her our rules are the same as yours."
I relayed the message and Ellie went upstairs, I thought, in defeat.

A short time later she came outside, overstuffed backpack not dragging her down and announced she was ready.  After a quick check in her backpack to find winter pajamas, long sleeve shirts, shorts, and undies, I asked her how she was going to get to Jen's.
"You can drive me."
"No."
"Jen can come get me."
"She wants gas money."
"I have money in my piggybank.  Actually, I will drive myself."
Enter the voice of lawfulness (Noah): "Ellie, if you drive yourself, then you will get pulled over by the police and you will get a ticket and thrown in jail!"
"Fine," the fight not weakening in my stubborn 4 year-old.  "I will walk."
"Eleanor," I told her.  "It takes us almost 45 minutes to drive to Jen's house.  Do you really think you can walk that far?  You're not even wearing shoes!"
She sulked off into the house.

I found her inside, putting her shoes on.  Noah was wiping light switches at this point.  I put Zeke down with some toys.  I was in the kitchen, the gate up and blocking the way to the side stairs and door, when Noah announced that Ellie and Caleb had gone out the back door and were headed through the gate to the driveway.  I somewhat hurdled over the gate, opened the side door, and grabbed Caleb, swinging him over to the other side of the gate.  Ellie looked at me and walked on. 
I grabbed the camera.

I know, I know.  Some moms might think that was a horrible thing to do.  I, however, knew she wouldn't follow through with running away. I wasn't going to let her run away.  But I sure was going to document the process so that one day, when she has the daughter just like her that I've threatened her with, and she calls me and is all up in arms about what to do with that daughter, I am going to pull out those pictures and share these stories.
Because I choose to believe that she will be able to outgrow this stubborn and difficult behavior and mature into a lovely, godly, young woman some day.  (Please, Lord, let that day be soon.)
And that lovely, godly, young woman might need to learn one day why her mother's hair turned gray so early on in years.

I stood in the front door, unseen by her for a little bit, as she walked to the end of the driveway and turned right down the sidewalk. 

The door opened behind me and Noah, tears streaming down his face, pleaded at me, "MOM!  She can't run away.  You can't let her run away!" I reassured him that no such thing was going to happen but that she had to try this, learn her lesson.

She made it to our neighbor's driveway, stopped, contemplated, and turned back.

She walked home.

And then kept right on walking past our driveway.

She stopped right past it, looked at me, and announced she was headed in that direction. 
I took her picture.

Then Caleb pushed past Noah at the door and took off running after her.  Which made Ellie shriek with laughter and run down the sidewalk, her little brother chasing her.  I passed the camera off to Noah and took off after both of them.  I snatched Caleb up - again - and told Ellie, maintaining a calm and quiet voice so the neighbors couldn't hear through their open windows, "Get inside the house now or you will be going to take a nap without eating lunch first."

She came home, much to the delight of her brothers.

And mother.