Being a parent might be the hardest job on the planet. I say this because I have experienced some difficulties this week in dealing with my blessings.
Let me explain...
My Big...my Middle...and my Little...are all at very different stages of their lives. All very different kids.
When we found out that Little was another boy, I thought to myself...well this will be a piece of cake. I have boys so figuring him out will be no problem. Of course at the time, Big and Middle were 6 and 4. I have since realized that just because they are all boys does NOT mean I have them figured out. Each one is unique. Just like my sister and I. We are very different. We even look different. But we are the best of friends. Of this I am certain.
My baby started flag football a couple of weeks ago. This coupled with Kindergarten can be quite hard on a five year old. And even harder on his Momma. Seeing him be hot, tired, and frustrated makes my heart hurt. He got hurt at practice the other night and just couldn't seem to recover from the fall. He was fine...physically. Emotionally, he was a mess. He cried...and sobbed...and sputtered...and cried some more. His coach told him to stop. His Dad folded his arms on the side lines. And I was crumbling inside. From the moment he was born...when he cried, I picked him up. I held him. I fixed him. I took care of his every need. And now...on the football field with all of his friends...and his tough coaches...and his Dad...I couldn't do a thing. I sat there and got angry. And then I got sad. And then I got angry. When practice was over, Little had controlled the crying enough to take off his flags and come get a drink. He was still choking back tears and had a headache from the crying. I held his hand as I handed him off to Dad so I could make it to family bunco. All the way there I gripped the steering wheel with my hands. As I got my plate and sat down at the table with my family...I began to sob myself. I told the story and how upsetting it was. My Granny shook her head with tears in her eyes. My Mom listened intently as I told my story of how I didn't know how to let go of my Little and teach him to be big. My cousin rubbed my back and my sister watched my every move. I know what she was thinking. "you have to let him grow up". She has always been very tough as a Mom. I love that about her. She takes nothing. She handles situations with grace...when I fall apart at the seams. I know I am cut from my mother's mold because she was ready to head back out to practice to have a "talk" with the coaching staff...as was I. Until I calmed myself. Coach (as in Dad) took Little home to have a talk with him about learning to be tough and knowing when to cry. This was the best person for this job as we all know I have a crying habit. But seeing him so upset and not being able to comfort him almost did me in.
I don't remember being quite such a push over with Big and Middle although I might have put it out of my mind. Big has always handled hard situations well. He gets angry and changes things. He'd rather choke than have someone see him cry. (He does cry...and he knows it's okay...but he'd rather do it in private...like his Dad.) Middle...has working tear ducts like Momma. But he is getting so much better at knowing when to let them flow and when to suck them back in. Guys just kind of do that. Coach included. The man cries...but when it is appropriate. I cry because it is Tuesday and my coffee creamer ran out. I cry because the commercial comes on about the abused pets. I cry because my children will eventually grow up and leave me and I can't stand the thought.
My point...as I ramble on and on and on...is that we as parents don't have it all figured out. We won't. That is the way God wants it. What we do have is grace. Thank goodness for the grace that falls on us as we make mistakes...learn from them...and as we live our lives with children.
Running onto the football field when Little is hurt...exasperated...crying...is not the right thing. Ignoring him isn't right either. I have no idea what that answer is and I have three children. I am not a rookie. What I am is human. And we make mistakes. Thank goodness we are covered.
Have a blessed day!
Referee of 3
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