My Growing Pains

Jack is hovering close to the steps of the play structure. He is calling out "Mom-mee!" repeatedly over the wind. I approach him and find him as unlikely as Jack can be- timid. He hugs me & I hold him in my arms for almost five minutes. I am humbled and finally grow the nerve to ask his forgiveness.

I would like to say I have it together most minutes of the day, but from my previous entries, you can see that I tend to loose it every now & then. I can't get over these moments. They haunt me and encourage me to try to grow from each failed moment. Even though it seems to me like each blog is turning into a mini-devotion, I don't want to turn into Mr. Olsteen, telling you there is a silver lining on every cloud. Regardless, my Father continues to grow me through these failed moments, breaks me of my frustration & weariness, and no matter how old I am, I am still His child. His spoiled, weary, ever-dependent daughter.

We were leaving for the park. My hair in a hat because I overslept. I had just cleaned up Jack's poop & pee from the upstairs carpet- a result of not being quick enough with the diaper. Emma starts to whine and throw her famous fit because her jacket isn't cooperating. Jack is finally dressed, but now is stripping his pants off. Will longs (desperately) to finally nurse. So, I snap. At Emma mostly, and as I do, Jack just hugs the couch and looks at me confused.

By the time we are at the park, all three blessings are calm. I am calm, but very remorseful at my own actions. Throughout the past several months, I continually tell Emma constantly to use her normal voice and use her words gently. Yet in the midst of my own frustration, I raise my voice very quickly! Ok, I yell.

And so begins the teaching moments: Learning to ask for forgiveness from your own children may be one of the most humbling actions a parent may ever endure (at least so far in my experiences). But as I do this, it continues to reveal my own humanness. Both Jack & Emma are so quick and so easy to show mercy and forgiveness.

Later in the afternoon, Emma is stalling (as usual) her rest time. She continually gets out of her bed and the last time tells me something she is thinking of makes her sad in her heart. Her feelings are hurt. What my baby? I tenderly ask. When you talked mean to me is her response. I pull her in my lap and explain how forgiving a wrong means moving on and not holding on to the offense. And so I will try to learn from my own teaching moment with Emma- to learn from this wrong and not cling to the guilt and grow with this moment.