Sometimes I have the feeling that I'm about sixteen trapped in a thirty-somethings body. I thought that when I got to this point in my life I would be oh-so-mature and full of wisdom to share with others. Instead I find myself searching forty minutes for the car keys only to find them in the pocket of the coat I'm wearing. (Yes family, I'm taking my thyroid)
No one ever told me that parenting would be easy. I made the assumption for myself. Mother always seemed to know exactly what to do and the words to say for every situation. I thought that it came with giving birth. The wisdom should just magically appear, right? I realize now that my mom couldn't have possibly been that together (well, maybe SHE could have) . Perhaps it was playing with all those baby dolls that didn't help either. They were always so cute with narry a smell or a fuss. Deceitful!
I am in the midst of having a "tween-ager". Yes, that is the weirdest name I've ever heard of but since we are a labeling maniactic society, I guess we had to come up with it. For those who've never heard this term, it represents being be"tween" a child and a teenager. As if becoming a teenager (being between a child and adult) wasn't enough of a title. We are entering the stage where my words which used to be considered fact by this sweet child will be challenged and questioned. It's hard when being questioned, not to cop out with, "Because I said so!"
My daughter increasingly asks for my time. She especially wants time at bedtime when the house is quiet and the other kids are tucked into bed. (Have I mentioned how I like my alone time?) She wants one-on-one time to talk about anything. She wants my undivided attention. I can remember feeling the same way with my mom. But I find myself whining to God about having to stop my day to cuddle and talk when there is so much to be done. Then feel guilty because I know I'll probably only have another eight years at home with this little girl so I'd better make the most of it.
God is teaching me the art of listening. Little Miss can see when my mind is wandering. "Mom, are you listening?" she asks. I readjust my eyes to her and try to stay in the conversation. Why is it so hard to give my attention to someone so important to me? Is it because her problems don't seem like "real problems" to me? How many times does God listen to me gripe about the laundry when there are people starving in Africa? He's patient with me. I pray that I can parent like God parents me.
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6 comments:
I so understand your struggle here. I do this, too. I notice mostly at bedtime. If I take my time with my kids and talk to them and read to them and really focus on them, they go to bed quickly and quietly. If I rush them through it (which happens most of the time) and am short with them, it takes so much longer to get them in bed. There are times I just want to be alone and I feel guilty for not ending the day on a special note. I am hoping they will remember the good things I did instead of the times I was snappy :-)
ROFL,
(rolling on floor laughing) about the deceitful baby dolls! Ha Ha!
That was so funny. I hear ya. Wondering when I am going to grow up and get ready to be a parent. Ha. Yeah, your mom did always have it together, that's how I remember as well. How'd she do that and how'd I miss that class?
I'm not envying your tweenager-hhh
age. My son loves for me to listen to and it is a hard thing to do when you have things you feel are so much more important. I'm like you though, I want them to know how important they truly are!
Deceitful baby dolls....smelling good and all ha ha still laughing.
what the hell is wrong with "because i said so!" ?????
Laughing hard.
Reallytrying - sounds like you and I are on the same page. I checked out your blog and enjoyed reading through your 101 interesting facts. I can relate to quite a few of them!
P.S. I love Elizabeth George too. I have her book: A Woman After God's Own Heart.
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