I take back all the smugness.
I once thought, said, even wrote on this blog, that I am a ‘great parent’.
Because we did babies well.
Oh my. Our kidlets were just easy, easy babies. We never hit the “Terrible Two’s” (whoever coined that, just hadn’t yet had a 3-year-old, or a 7-year-old, or a 10-year-old). I may have had each baby sleeping through the night by two weeks, but that was before they could talk. Before they could voice their opinion and displeasure. Articulately. Loudly. With emotion.
Now, I am lost.
And I take it back. I am not a great parent. And, I offer my heartfelt apology, for even thinking it. And a small part of me envies my friends who have chosen not to have children. Or who are now empty-nesters.
It seems to me, through the advent of social media, that I see, and share, happy snippets of daily life. Quips. Inspirations.
But I don’t often see, or share, the moments in between. The stress. The frustration. The pain. This is one of those moments. It’s not pretty.
It’s definitely not FB-worthy.
I have realized recently (or maybe I’m just now facing reality) that as a mother, I am acquiring multiple personalities…
Sometimes I go flailing into the verbal fight they seem to crave. A moment later, I ignore their outburst and give them grace and time to recover. I beam with pride over a friend’s compliment at their manners, and repeat it to myself like a mantra for the next eight days. I dread the effort required to cajole them into a new, ‘fun’ adventure. I hold their little hands, teaching them how to hold a sharp knife and be my sous chef while we prepare dinner together. I am shocked at their selfishness. I am delighted by their generosity and thoughtfulness. I walk on ahead of a pouting child, heard-hearted, without looking back. I stop and retrace our steps, repeatedly, filled with fear, tears streaming down my cheeks, trying to find my precious, precious child. I endeavor to lead by example, and ask them to forgive me for my own poor choices. I reprimand. I praise. I revoke privileges and doll out consequences (they would liken this to the behavior of an evil troll) for their offending actions, while absorbing the ‘spears’ they hurl my way.
Sometimes, and lately it feels like much of the time, by the end of the day I feel like I’ve been in one of the local bullfights we’ve been learning about. And I’m the Toro. And, although I started out brave and fierce, I’ve got a dozen spears protruding from my sides, and I’m leaving a red trail as the life oozes out of me.
And the spectators are cheering.
I go to bed to licking my wounds, wondering, reading, praying, looking for answers and wisdom for the following day.
And then I think about adoption. And how Dreamboat and I have talked for years about wanting to be a family for little ones that haven’t had a family. Dreaming of helping someone who has felt unloved, to know they are loved.
And then I wonder…How could I survive, inviting more bullfighters into this ring? What kind of mother could I be to more little ones? How could we be family, when right now, it’s more like a blood sport? What kind of life is that for a little one who has already suffered so much? When I don’t know what I’m doing with these three, how can I add more children?
I don’t think I can do it. I just don’t have the strength to live through it.
And, then, unbidden, a thought dares to come to mind. Only when I’m brave enough, bold enough, secure enough–I take a deep, courage-inducing, stabilizing breath, and ask myself one of the scariest questions (which I’d rather not face);
“was I like this?”
“Oh dear God. Did I do this to my parents?”
And once again, I am humbled….
When my littles were little, what was best for our family was easy—I don’t really think there’s a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way to get through babyhood—but what worked for us, felt right. But, none of my personalities can agree on what’s ‘right’ for us now.
At this moment, they’re all asleep.
Just thinking of them, without needing to take a peek, my heart is overflowing with love and joy. The joy is so overwhelming that it hurts. I remember only the good, amazing, kind, selfless choices they made today. I remember the feeling of my daughter throwing her arms around me, unbidden, without asking me to buy something. I remember my littlest one’s cries as I stepped out of sight (to steal a few solitary moments to soak in the beauty of Madrid’s skyline as the sun set). I remember my oldest son’s fascination with the art he saw at Museo Reina Sofia, and doing his best to replicate a Dali when he got home. I know I am blessed beyond measure. I am grateful for these little people I am entrusted to raise. I am honored to teach them to be all they’re intended to be. To pursue their greatest dreams. To live their best lives.
But, right now, I’m tired. It’s time to head off to bed.
I look forward to waking up…
…to willingly enter the bull ring again.
Wondrous writing!
Heidi, You are not alone! I’ve never met a parent who did not feel like there was more that they should have, could have done and not none.
Here is something else we all have in common in terms of our children.
Parent to Person
©PaulSamuels.com
I see you as you are Grown though you may be
But you’ll always be my child Within my memory
Although I find at times, It’s hard to communicate
Let me share these words Before it’s too late
For your precious life You owe nothing to me
As that was given to you By the Lord of eternity
You owe me nothing that I don’t earn
Yet as your parent your love and respect I yearn
But feel not as though all My desires you must fulfill
For you have your own life to live This is within God’s will
I simply want to take the time To make this understood
Of all the things within my life That caused me to feel good
Nothing is more rewarding then you and parenthood!
You asked if you did these things to your folks. I ask “Lord, how often do I treat you this way? ” especially when they become teenagers.
Someone told me that I thought I had the perfect family. I told them I never wanted the perfect family because then the only way to go was down. I wanted a grace -filled family that allowed love and mercy to cover a multitude of sins! So thankful I have a grace -filled family!!!
I hear you Heidi…I thought I was a nice person till I had kids..:) and as an empty nester I surprise myself how often I want my kids back around me…just today I told Taylor that . ….Hang in there, you are a good parent!
I have no words of wisdom to offer…just admiration for the woman you’ve become.
Amazingly wonderful words! It’s all worth it…savor the sweet spots of each stage – just as you are. Before you know it, you’ll be chatting with your adult kids and sharing life with them – and that is REALLY sweet!
My Dear Friend – As someone who has watched and learned from many friends over the years – you are a truly wonderful parent – this much I know is true. Love you and miss you.
I recommend “Shepherding a Child’s Heart” and “Age of Opportunity” by the Tripp brothers to any and every parent.