Motherhood

Whew!  Back to School time seems like a finish line to me and I am sure so many other moms.  I think everyone likes the change of pace that the summer brings but for me it’s nice to get back to more structure in my schedule.  I tried to have all these activities and “field trips” planned this summer but things didn’t go as planned.  I think I was learning summers aren’t supposed to be that “planned”.  I grew up as a military brat and thrive on order, agendas, punctuality, discipline, you get the picture. This summer had so many unexpected roadblocks that I dare say I have become more flexible because of it.  I am learning that flexibility is the truest friend of a mother of young kids.  There are sudden sniffles or stomach bugs, mood changes, accidents, and tantrums that just cannot be accounted for.

Now as Grace has gotten into the groove of middle school and Ella will start half-day K-4 three days a week I dream of freshly mopped floors, clean and folded laundry, and general order and cleanliness around my home.  Oh yeah and twins that will nap every day on the same schedule.  A girl can dream can’t she.  While I fantasize about how my post labor day life will be with me in a starring role as a young, black Martha Stewart, I know there is more to life than tasks, chores, and check marks.  This is no major revelation to most everyday people but to people like me who live for checking things off to-do lists we have to be reminded that life really is all about people and relationships.

So in the spirit of change and growth I will do some things just for the sake of relationship.  Just for the sake of reaching out and connecting with other people.  Just for….fun.  I have filled out the registration form to become a part of our local Mothers of Preschoolers group.  I have also got information about joining one of the daytime small groups at our church, not just joining the one we go to as a family.  I am branching out people.  If I can safely make it through the first couple of weeks of awkward exchanges I think I may actually enjoy and look forward to these groups and the boys will get out and about a little more beyond the YMCA which is probably good for them as well.   When I say, “safely make it through the first couple of weeks”, I just mean don’t offend anyone.   I tend to be more straight forward and cut to the chase than most southerners appreciate.  I mean, “bless your heart” is a Southerners way of saying “I really pity and feel sorry for you” it is a Southerners way of being mean to your face and yet it sounds so sweet.  They sound sweet even when they’re mean and no one would ever describe me as sweet.

I am already getting social anxiety just thinking about this stuff.  Deep breaths, deep breaths.  I can do this.  Well, Tuesday is the big day.  My floors may not sparkle again any time soon but hopefully I will begin to understand more fully the richness of life lived together with others.  You may think that being a part of a family of six counts as together with others but it doesn’t necessarily, unless you make it so.  I am purposefully trying to make it so both in my home and outside of my home.  The dirty floors and laundry will be there tomorrow or after the kids are in bed.  But the kids are only little for such a short time and I don’t want to be so focused on my to do list that I don’t enjoy it.  Enjoy.  Maybe if I added enjoy to my to do list I would do it daily.  Warped, I know.  But you have to realize that I come from a family that had “mandatory fun” nights which consisted of us watching the Roots miniseries.  Educational and inspiring for sure but fun?

Life is meant for living.  Life, is meant for living.  Live!  I am a human being, not just a human doing.  I will enjoy, relate and connect.  Live.

This year I had quite the parenting epiphany.  I would love to say that I had this revelation while praying quietly or that it came to me in a dream but sadly it did not.  After a solid year of making reminder charts, lecturing, setting expectations, crying, praying and complaining it was said to me by the Children’s Minister at my church that what Grace(my 11yr.old) does or doesn’t do is not an extension of me.  This did not seem true to me at first.  I started reading parenting books and going to seminars while pregnant with this dear child.  If I had learned anything it’s that you can screw this parenting thing up so you better do the right stuff.  If you don’t do “the right stuff” your child can be irrevocably broken!  What is this “right stuff”?  Well, no one can exactly agree but you better do it!

I think parents walk around with a fair amount of guilt regarding what they are or are not doing for or with their children.  While fathers may feel this from time to time guilt seems the constant companion for mothers, especially mothers working outside of the home.  Now, add to that single mother working outside of the home.  This is a perfect storm of guilt.  This is where I lived for the first four years of Grace’s life.  I felt like I needed to do everything just right so that she could beat those “single parent odds”.  So that my poor decision making would not be something for which she would bear the consequences.  I knew all along that there are no perfect parents or people but I couldn’t help comparing myself to others.  Was I working hard enough, was I spending enough “quality time”, was she on track educationally, was I providing enough cultural experiences,  spiritual enrichment…etc.

When I got married I still felt the same.  My husband saw the emotional strain I was under and wanted to help ease it but both he and I didn’t know how.  I did not even realize it was self induced.  Still, 7 years later I did not see it.  Because our children come into this world helpless we become accustomed to doing everything for them.  Over the years we slowly let go and hand over some responsibility and they gain independence.  This is a continual ebb and flow and a walk of faith.  They make mistakes.  Their mistakes sometimes have hard consequences, make them uncomfortable or cause them pain.  This is the hardest thing.  There is no way around it.  Your children will hurt.  You may see clearly that the pain is avoidable but sometimes they must learn it the hard way, for themselves.  I had somehow convinced myself that if I was a better parent she wouldn’t make mistakes.  Not true for my parents(they are amazing) and not true for me.

Realizing this is all at once liberating and fear inducing.  I am not in control.  Here is the thing, I never was.  I once was at a church service where we were asked,” Why is it so hard to love people?”  The answer, “we would much rather control them”.  I hate to admit it but that is so true for me.  Disgusting but true.  The same is true for my relationship with God.  I would much rather feel like I had some (really, all) control.  All this faith requires so much trust.  Control freaks are freaking out about this one all the time (me included) and calling it something else.

I am not perfect.  Even if I were perfect, no guarantees my children would be.  They are their own autonomous little(and not so little) beings.  If you are not a parent this is not a news flash.  If you are a parent it probably is.  Since I have “let go” Grace has been on the honor roll and has been much more responsible(responding to the freedom).  Her relationships with her friends seems to be flourishing as well.  How could I not have seen this before? Probably just too close to and invested in the situation.

I am so thankful for grace and for Grace.  I am thankful  as well for forgiveness for myself, from myself,  the hardest one to extend it to.

The longer you live with yourself (if anyone knows any other way to live please let me know) the more ridiculous tendencies you recognize about yourself. I have been thinking about blogging for about four years. I have always kept journals that move in a cardboard box with me whenever I change residences. I think my husband is tired of moving this box from place to place and is bored with my nightly rantings, ravings and musings. He has been strongly suggesting that I blog for years. Most people I know think that this is a good idea. “Yes”, they say, “you should start a blog”. “I would read it”, a few friends have declared.
Other people reading it is precisely the problem. I have always journaled as kind of a therapeutic exercise.  It clears my head, gives me a way to organize my thoughts, and gives me perspective when I read entries later.  I never write for anyone else to read.  This is as scary as it gets for me because if I think someone is reading then I will feel the need to explain EVERYTHING.  The whole reason for this post is to admit that, yes I am aware that this is an issue and that I will do my best to reign it in.  But I just couldn’t help explaining why I am blogging.

Okay, now for my second admission.  My first post was just a way for my husband to make me start.  I showed him a video and explained why I thought it was funny and he responded by saying that would make a good blog post.  So, I posted it.  Kind of like announcing your plan to lose 20 pounds, once it’s out there you must do something.

So, just to be clear I do not blog because I think I am so clever or witty.  I do not blog because I am an expert on ANYTHING.  I do not blog because I am a good writer.  It is simply put for my own sanity.  I have 4 children.  Three of them are preschool age and are home with me during the day.  Two are 18 month old twin boys.  There isn’t a lot of adult conversation going on during my days.  Most words spoken during my day are some combination of “no, stop, don’t, yucky” or just jibberish (from the children or me).

Most everyone agrees that no one is perfect but most everyone is uncomfortable with people viewing their imperfections.  This is a big reason why I have stalled until now.  I overexplain because I don’t want to be misunderstood.  I don’t want someone to think one sentence that I say or write could fully sum up how I feel, think or am about something.  We live in such a soundbite culture that it is easy to be misrepresented.  What if they think I…(fill in the blank)?  Oh well, “they” probably will and that’s okay.  We cannot live without being misunderstood.  It is inevitable. But let’s be honest, who will be following this?  To be misunderstood it would have to be read.  I think I am in the clear.