Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it.

–Proverbs 22:6

I love Target. Next to Loft, Target is one of my favorite retail therapies. I could go back and forth between them for hours. Recently, I went with my mother and five-and-a-half-year-old daughter, and I was ready to give my full attention to all this store had to offer.

Up and down the aisles we traveled, looking at all the beautiful Targety things. We rounded one corner and right there on the end cap was a row of Hello Kitty beach towels placed there by the devil himself. Great. Now what. Too late to run.

The five-and-a-half-year-old voice pipes up and asks if she can have one. To which I say no. Then my mother offers to get it. My daughter is happy again. Until she sees the Hello Kitty blanket and travel pillow. The five-and-a-half-year-old voice pipes up again. I say no. Mom says no. And all the way to the front of the store, the five-and-a-half-year-old voice argues for the pillow and blanket. Here we go.

My child can be a feisty firecracker. A strong-willed daughter for a strong-willed momma. A tough combination at best, but at times like this, it can spell disaster. As we neared the registers, I told her more than once that if she kept arguing, the towel was going back. She didn’t listen, and when we got to the front, I gave the towel to the cashier and told my daughter she could forget about getting it now.

She yelled so loudly that every eye in the front of the store was locked on us. I could just imagine what they were thinking. I imagined some feeling sorry for me, others wanting me to hurry up and get out, and still others who were thinking, my child would never act that way. I can’t tell you how many times I said that before I had a child. Turns out, she has her own mind, her own mouth, and there are times when she does act that way.

Never say never. I said I would never live in Virginia again, I would never marry someone from the north (too cold), and my children would never embarrass me in public. Well, I have lived in Virginia for the past eighteen years, my husband is from Buffalo, and the Target tantrum isn’t even our grandest public display (the produce guy at Kroger knows what I’m talking about).

If you’re out and about and you see the offspring of a frazzled mom melting down, it does no good to glare at her. She knows and is desperate for it to end. Her child’s tantrum is not a sign that she’s a bad mom who lets junior do whatever she wants. Chances are, that mom does not actually “put up with it.” She just chooses not to make her own scene in the middle of the store. Someone has to keep a level of control after all.

Not too long ago, I realized that I don’t care anymore. I don’t care that refusing to buy her something when she acts out could send her into a public meltdown because I do care about what matters. One day she will be twenty-five-and-a-half instead of five-and-a-half, and she will be faced with choices that will define her character as an adult.

My daughter needs to understand that she must live a life of integrity and not indulgence, and it is up to me and her father to teach her. God gave her that strong will, but I guarantee it is not His will that she use it to serve only herself. If we do not show her, who will?

Every time we refuse to parent because it is uncomfortable or inconvenient, we send a message to our children. They see us taking the easy way out, the shortcut, the path of least resistance. They see us choosing to douse the flames through acquiescence, for fear of looking out of control. But sometimes we are out of control, and I would much rather have my daughter throw a tantrum at five while she is under my influence, then treat me and others with disrespect when she is on her own.

It doesn’t matter what others think in the moment while we make the hard choice to put the towel back, it matters only what God thinks, and the job He sees us doing as parents. My job is to mold my daughter’s strong will without breaking it, and that can only be achieved by persevering, prayer, and illustrating a balance of love and restraint.

I have made many huge mistakes as a mother, and I know I will do so again. I also know that I have access to the greatest counselor who lives, and He can guide us all as we navigate through the mountains and valleys of parenting. No matter how many tantrums she throws, I will not give up.

Parenting is a marathon, so you better strap on your comfy running shoes and be ready for every mile. The only way to do that is to seek the will of God and ask for His guidance every step of the way.