Letters to my Littles......Grace

I haven't posted a single blog in 2 long months.  Mothering three children has found me on the opposite end of sane and life is swirling around me like some clip from "Wizard of Oz" or "Alice in Wonderland".  I find myself in a space somewhere between crazy and happy as can be, and that, my friends, is a place we call motherhood.  I feel normal when I look around at my friends, who are also residing uncomfortably in this space.  We live here...together...and that's where we'll stay until life brings us to a whole new realm (Sorry, I've been watching a lot of "Once Upon a Time")......called "Mothering teenagers", which is a strange, scary world.  I encountered this age as a teacher, but when I think of parenting them, it's a shivery kind of feeling.

Anyway, my third Mother's Day has brought me to a reflective place.  Some of it, admittedly, is hormonal.  I keep crying, thinking of how fast this is going.  I want it to stop, yet I find satisfaction in the fact that they are growing up so perfectly, grasping milestones and achievements that they are proud of.  For example, Nora can now buckle her own seat belt.  It was a glorious day when climbing into the back of the mini-van

(scratching every exposed surface of skin on something,
reaching breathlessly,
pinching my fingers,
gripping whatever I could hold so I didn't fall on the baby)

came to a screeching halt.  :)

She screams, gleefully, "I can do it by myself!!"  And I think, "Jesus is Lord!"  :)  Evan can listen, I'm sorry, HEAR, a chain of commands.  Sometimes, he follows them, but, most importantly, I know he knows what I am saying, and I find solace in the fact that one day, he will do it by himself.  Grant has gained weight and started sleeping longer hours.  He's functioning on a schedule and thrives on predictability.  He watches the other littles play and reaches for them, in an awkward, my nervous system doesn't work, kind of way.  It won't be long until he is on the floor chasing them, hitting them back and stealing their toys.  Today, I looked down at him and saw that Evan had placed a train on his stomach next to the car stitched on his onesie, almost like saying, "I know you're almost ready, here's this train, just in case today is the day."  I know he is thinking this because until today, he only acknowledged him to give him a quick smack to tell him that mommy is "mine".  The train indicates he is accepting him into his world.  Sounds corny, but this also made me tear up a bit.  The littles are learning to love each other, whatever way they know how.  I am learning quickly that when a little boy shares a train, it's love....and that's that.      

These lessons I'm learning are worth more than gold, but the curve is SHARP!

Bringing home our third child was a pretty cool experience.  There was no anxiety over every little cry or cough or strange sound.  When he sleeps longer than he usually does, I rejoice rather than panic.  I let him cry when all of his needs are met, because, contrary to the new belief, you aren't going to ruin your kid if they have to work "it" out with some old fashioned crying.  I'm no doctor, but it is my belief that you are actually ruining your kid if you DON'T let them cry, and you can take that to the bank.  I don't care who I offend with that comment....because here's the reality: MY kids, the kids who learned adjustment through crying and self-soothing, will be living in a world with YOUR kids who never had the chance to work ANYTHING out.  After 3 kids, I feel passionate about this, but there is nothing I can do about it, so I'll just complain talk about it.  I'm not perfect....actually, having kids makes me realize how un-perfect I am.  I want to find every parent I scoffed at or judged and hug them until they know how sorry I am,  annnnnd, I suppose even the ones who don't let their kids cry. :)  

The reality of parenting three children - There are days when I yell too much and roll my eyes too easily 

......There are moments when my complacency takes hold and I allow too many hurtful words and a poor attitude to govern our day.

........There have been  minutes, even hours I wish I could take back.  Honestly, ones I would give anything to take back...

....There have been times I hear the still small voice from the One that loves the littles more than I could ever imagine, urging me to calm my spirit and take a step back, and much to my His disappointment, I ignore the counsel of the One who Gave it all and succumb to the evil that is far too easy and much too comfortable to follow.  

I fail.  Over and over again, I fail.

The best lesson...GRACE.  Free for all!  Free for you and me.  Free for all the un-perfect among us.

If I get out of this parenting thing alive, I pray I have taught them to give and receive grace.  As I become a veteran parent (someone said that to me-it made me laugh) I realize how few words I actually need to use when parenting my littles.

The real lessons....

......the ones that go the distance......

...the ones that penetrate their hearts.....

......and teach them how to leave little land, having become what God wants them to strive to be....

are learned in the moments where no words are spoken.

Father, allow my wordless moments to speak louder than the ones where words are many.  Allow my inability to find the right words be covered in your grace.  Allow this to be truth in our lives so that when the littles you have entrusted to me emerge into the world, they are prepared to fail, not because I didn't teach them how to succeed, but because failure is eminent.  Allow me to show them that although failure is eminent, your Grace is abundant. Amen.