I was driving to work earlier today
thinking about lessons. Lessons I am trying to teach my kids and
lessons I am learning from my kids. Parenting lessons. We don't
sign up for classes and get a grade that says “yay! You're now
qualified to be a parent.” Doesn't work that way.
We are blessed with, if we're lucky, an
example of what good parenting looks like, but sometimes not even
that. I have been gifted with an awesome set of parents and two
amazing sets of grandparents, but I only get the end result. I can
see where my own parents are today and that they made it through all
our younger years. And my grandparents, I can see the results with
aunts and uncles and cousins. I didn't get to watch from an outside
perspective how my parents dealt with us. And my kid brain that was
and my mom brain that is are two completely different things. To try
and reconcile the two would be impossible.
So how do I impart on my children the
things they need to know? They are each so different in how they
take it in. For instance, my almost five year old son, Ryan,
completely tunes me out after the first six words are out of my
mouth. I'll be trying to explain why he needs to be kinder to his
sisters and he'll look at me and tell my hair is soft. Huh? My Ava
just makes goofy faces and has now learned how to roll her eyes.
Great, just great. Ella is uber-sensitive and I have to choose my
words very carefully, otherwise, I'm dealing with tears. Ugh!
I love them dearly, all their responses
and reactions. How I deal with each can leave me with a hefty dose
of guilt though. Mom guilt. The kind of guilt that has me
questioning any and all responses and reactions over and over and
over. Am I doing this right? Are they getting it? Are my
expectations too high, they're still very young? I can be their
friend later, right now, I have to be their mom. And no one ever
said being a mom was an easy job. Nuff said.
So guilt aside, am I getting it right? Most of the time, I hope so. Every once in a while there is a moment
when one of them speaks and I realize they are using my words. Wow!
It's working. I am getting through and they are retaining and using
it in the context of the situation they're in. Be calm my heart.
It's so hard to not jump up and down cheering.
And so there it is, the love coming
through. I love them, therefore I teach them. To be respectful, to
themselves and to each other, and to those around them. To be
thankful and grateful, for what they have and to share what they can
with others who do not have. To be kind. To be kind. To use words
not as weapons, but as tools. To build up and not tear down. So
many other things to teach and learn, and we'll get there.
With my heart wide open, I love my
kids. How could it possibly be any other way? I am so grateful to
have them, precious gifts that they are.
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