You should know that as a parent, I mess up. I mean, as a human, I mess up. It would seem that it is inevitable. I'm almost at the bicentennial age and part of me is like, "Am I really this old?" The other part of me is like, "Man, I made it to this wonderful age and it's great!!!" I look at my children. It feels like I have blinked and they grew. Now when I talk to them I look up. It kind of hurts looking back to when I towered over them. This is the new norm. I will now have to look up to my children. I have a box of tissues next to me. I'm good so far. I tell myself that I should have put them into sports. They should have learned an instrument. My son is mouthy (I wonder where he gets this from). I remember when he was in kindergarten and I thought about teaching him complacency. Instead, I attempted to teach him respect. I didn't want to infringe upon his personality. Now, I pray that I have made a good decision. My daughter as well I think about ways I could have done better by her. She is naturally pleasing and sweet. Should I have taught her to be mean? Instead I taught her how to be assertive and how to use it.
I was talking to someone last year who had a toddler. "Hi. How are you?" The responses were good. Then I asked about the baby. "She is so bad! She is into everything." The parent in question was beaming. A child that is "bad" is intelligent, curious and this is a good thing for that parent. The mother seemed to be proud that her daughter as a toddler was questioning the status quo and testing boundaries. I understood how this mother was bragging. I know my fair share of kids who are "bad." I may be raising "bad" children.
I don't really believe in "bad" children. I think that at every instance, there are children that are learning how to cope with this broken world that we live in. It's hard not to feel disrespected when you have a child acting aggressively toward you, but it's not really about me. In that moment, while I'm thinking about what to do, it's really about the kid. When you are in a moment, it helps to pray. "God, help me help this child. Help me to be an adult and to model grace and understanding so that there can be communication and relationship." Sometimes my prayers are: "God, give me the words to help and heal and not tear down any farther." Honestly, sometimes, there are no words. I just open up my arms and I allow them to cry and feel loved.
There was an issue and my son asked me not to share it but I was angry. I asked him if he was disrespectful. He told me, "I'm only that way with you." I get the worst of him. Why? Because he knows I love him through his ugly and mean times. He told me, "I can be my real self with you." I'm sitting here honored that my son would think enough of me to show me his real self. This is a blessing!!! Praise the Lord! So my prayer will be that my decisions reflect the wisdom of God and not my own because clearly, I don't have it all together. That's all for now.
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