Henry is at a really great age. He’s very much into imaginative play,
building forts, space and planets, bones and dinosaurs. We bought him
his first board games this month: Candy Land & Chutes and Ladders. While this is a fun age, it’s also a crucial one. I’m realizing that my role as
his Mother is changing. Aside from nurturing, caring and loving that
we’ve always done, we are now in the phase where we are talking about
things like what it means to tell the truth, to be honest. What a lie
is. Little life lessons. He’s so impressionable at this age. I have to really think about how and
what I say to him. A few weeks ago, for the first time in his life, he
raised his hand to hit me. My eyes almost popped out of my head. I just
looked at him and he knew, mid-hit, that what he was doing was wrong.
He ran into his room, closed his door and started to cry. “Do I hit
you? Does Papa hit you?” I ask. “No.” “Then it is not okay for you to
hit me or Papa or anyone. You can cry and you can disagree but you
cannot hit.” Where did he even learn that? While I don’t think it’s
terribly unusual for a child of his age who is trying desperately to
have a voice to exhibit this behavior, it most definitely is not
acceptable. We’re trying, like most parents are, to raise good children
that have values and respect and who are kind to others and crossing our fingers that it actually works.
I‘ll never forget an experience I had a few years ago. I was stopped at
a traffic signal and a few dozen pedestrians were crossing the street
in front of me. The crowd made it to the other side, with the exception
of a little old Grandma who was desperately trying to get across the
street before the signal turned. At that very moment, a young man who
had already made it to the other side came running back to her, put her
arm in his and together they walked to the other side. I sat there
thinking ‘How do you raise a child like that?’ More importantly, is
that the kind of thing you can even teach? Do some kids just
instinctively do those types of things? How do you raise your children
to see situations like that and act on them? I am a firm believer that
there is no better way to teach than by example but how far does your
example go? A few years ago I bought this book, “Above all, Be Kind”
and it rang so
true. I don’t need/want to have the smartest child, but it’s so
important to me for them to be kind
Parenting is hard. I always say that to people and they look at me like
I have an arm growing out of my forehead. It doesn’t mean that I don’t
absolutely love my children and think that motherhood is the absolute
best thing around, but it can be challenging. It’s supposed to be, right? I found myself a few
weeks ago at 10:30 p.m. with a baby who was crying so loudly I was sure
there was blood dripping from my ears and a 3 year old who was sitting
on my bed wanting me to put the baby down so I could lay down and
snuggle with him. He was tired, I was exhausted. It was 2 hours past
his bedtime. I was secretly resentful that Chris was at the movies,
even though it was technically for work (he’s working on the side for
Netflix and getting paid to watch movies. I know.) Why wasn’t he here
to help me? I’m remembering that I am going on 4 hours of sleep and I’m
patting and swinging and shushing and walking and rocking and bouncing
and singing and nothing is
working. Henry keeps calling and finally, finally she passes out on my
shoulder. I lay her down and sit back down in the rocking chair with my
head in my hands. My head is throbbing. I just need a minute. Henry is
still waiting for me. “Mama, I want to come to you” he says. He climbs
off our bed and into my lap. I wrap my arms around him and look down to
see big tears streaming down his face. “Sometimes it’s hard isn’t it?”
He shakes his head. I know he’s feeling it and I am too. I’m crying now
and after a few minutes we climb out of the rocking chair and into the
bed for the long-promised snuggling. And it’s then that I remember that
while being a Mother can sometimes feel overwhelming, I wouldn’t change it for
the world.
I’ve been writing this post for 2 1/2 hours. I am rambling. I’m going to bed now.
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