…but of late I’ve been questioning God’s judgment in selecting me as the mother of four children. Granted, They* took one of our kids back — I hope that wasn’t because I flunked out of motherhood-of-four.
I would not have self-identified as a mother of four, especially when our oldest needed absolutely everything done for her. Having a fourth wasn’t intentional, at least, it was not our intention.
I love our youngest to pieces, don’t get me wrong. But he has been a handful of challenging uniqueness ever since we peeked at him via ultrasound at 20 weeks gestation. Having one child with severe special needs is hard enough. Two, paired with two other healthy children, will send you over the edge. The year and a half before Elli died was full of hospital stays, surgeries, meds, and panic, and seriously lacking in sleep, time, calm, and being caught up.
Now, we have three in our home again, a different three than we started with. And Mr Challenging Uniqueness is now Two Years Old. He is defiant, bossy, independent, and stubborn. To be fair, he’s also charming, affectionate, entertaining, and loves to shake his booty (when he isn’t announcing to everyone “I tooted”). I love him so much I could burst.
But, he’s wearing me down.
I have caught myself, on more than one occasion in the last few days, thinking, “I’m just not up to this for a fourth time.”
Establishing myself as boss who requires respect and immediate obedience without complaining is hard work with any child, but it’s especially challenging with this boy. And I’m just plain tired. It isn’t like nothing else is going on in our lives. I’m frustrated from working on the same stuff over and over, day after day, and seeing little to no progress. What I see is repeated refusal to ask instead of demand, come instead of play keep-away, and accept my decisions instead of screeching at the top of his lungs for 20 minutes in all-consuming rage because I turned left instead of right.
I feel thankful some days that Elli isn’t with us any longer because I know I’d be Raving Lunatic Mom if I was dealing with Little Boy’s defiance AND caring for Elli too. And then I feel guilty for being thankful.
And then I ask God, “Why again, did You think I was a four-kid/special needs mom? Because I’m not handling this well at all. In fact, to be perfectly candid (and because you know it better than I do anyway), I really suck at this.”
But I don’t really need to hear why. Because I suspect it’s rather like what happens when you pray “God, help me be a more patient person.” Suddenly you’re put into a bazillion situations back-to-back in which you must practice being patient. And you flop and you crash-and-burn and you fail again and again. And then, imperceptibly, hopefully, you don’t flop quite so bad. And then one day you actually handle something ok. And one day, when you’re a great-grandparent and you’re helping your grand-daughter figure this mom-thing out for the first time and you’re completely unflappable in face of meconium and projectile spit-up and nursing woes, you realize God has answered your prayer. You are actually, finally, a patient person.
It’s just so doggone time-consuming and failure-ridden. I don’t want to be an unflappable great-grandmother of dozens. I want to be a great unflappable mother of four. Now. Except, I want it to just miraculously happen, with the snap of my fingers. I’m too selfish and lazy to put in the hard work, to make better choices, to respond more quietly and patiently.
And God just keeps kicking my selfish lazy butt off the couch.
Great great-grandmother-hood, here I come. One millimeter at a time.
*Since English lacks a gender-neutral singular pronoun, I refer to God as They.
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I was just thinking along the same lines this week, and I "coincidentally" came across these verses almost immediately afterward:
"And He said unto me, 'My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Most gladly therefore will I reather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong."
Throughout my whole life, I've tried to stave things off until I feel I can handle them… and God always instead seems to give me more responsibility than I've requested or believe I can handle.
After this week, when I read these verses, I suddenly think that perhaps God doesn't actually WANT me to think I'm perfectly fine and can handle everything well… for obvious reasons!
Joy,
I'm not supposed to either, and I 'only' have two. Granted, they feel like two squared. And I both identify and empathize with what you're saying. There are days when I think….'how did I get to be the Mommy?' I don't really feel older than I did in high school, in college… (and then, of course, I try to run across a pavement or move a different way and the muscles don't bounce back like they did then…). A mother of a 'tough child', one in particular out of five, is in someways closer to that one now… she says it's because she had to work so hard with him. And there were days when no one thought she'd make it! Now she gets to be the grandma, and she's still figuring things out.
I empathize with wanting it now, too. It irritates me to not have some things figured out now. Really, if I'm 'the Mommy' why don't I just have all the skills automatically, now, too?
I'm very grateful for something on your behalf… you can express these things. I wonder how many mothers struggle in silence without the ability to identify what exactly it is that's driving them slowly and not-so-slowly to madness.
A mother on Sunday told me ashamedly that there are days when she can't be in the room with one of her children… adopted, with reactive attachment issues… because she feels no love right then and can't handle it… he's pushed her to the edge over and over again.
And it reminds me of a phrase from Beth Moore… there are days when you tell that child to go to his/her room for 'their' own safety!!!
The age of two is particularly amazing… that compacted strong will without the ability to discuss things and reach a compromise… I had a two year old like that. It's a bit easier now. Still interesting, but a bit easier.
Love you much and think of you often.
Nikki
Joy, this is Splendid!
I only have three with no special needs but all so needy all the time. I feel your pain, frustration, guilt, questions, tiredness . . .
Great verses Annie! Thank you for sharing your insight. Staving things off until we can handle them . . . well put! I hadn't realized how true that is until you said it.
I love what Nikki said, "you can express these things." We empathize, appreciate and are encouraged by your expression of matters we are all too familiar with (and some we have no experience with at all but that certainly give us perspective).
Yes, here we come, one millimeter at time! : )
I can so relate. My eldest is school age and still isn't a compliant, first-time obedience, "Yes, Mommy" instead of arguing type of child. But she came out of the womb with a mind of her own and that hasn't changed. Our second-born is so much different that is has PROVEN to me that my parenting and/or persistence really truly does NOT play as big a role in my children's behavior as I would like to think or take credit for. He was born grateful and appreciative, peaceable, compliant, gentle.
I suspect that I behave more like my eldest where my relationship with God is concerned. I dislike my circumstances and let Him know! I procrastinate about things I know I should do. I tell Him I'm too tired and that "I can't" do this or that for one reason or another.
I still question whether I'll ever be able to break my daughter's will without doing long-term damage to her. In a lot of ways I've had to lower my expectations and accept some misbehaviors in exchange for preserving my relationship with her (some might disagree with my decision). I'm trying to remember that my children are made in God's image and that He gave them the traits that He did.
Some may disagree with this, but we LOVE Growing Kids God's Way. It helped us with our stubborn little redhead and we are reaping the blessings now! Just a thought! gfi.org
These are such wonderful thoughts! I struggle on a daily basis with trying to guide my two little girls down a path that is more full of kindness and less full of screaming tantrums. Then I wonder how I can ever hope to bring more children into this family if I'm so ill-prepared for parenting? I know we learn as we go, but — like you said — I'd like to learn NOW, rather than 50 years from now. Is that too much to ask, really?
Again, SUCH a wonderful post
A man lived in a cabin in the woods. Next to his home was an enormous rock. One morning, God said to him, "In a month's time, a storm will come and someone will be hurt. In order to save their life, you must push the rock down to the road." The man said, "The rock is too large; I cannot do it." God said, "Push." So the man pushed, and he didn't move it an inch. At evening he said, "I failed, Lord. I told you I would." God said, "Tomorrow, then." The next day, the man woke up and God said, "Push." All day the man strained, and he still did not move it at all. He said, "Lord, I still haven't moved it." God said, "Tomorrow, then." All month this went on, and the man did not move the rock an inch.
Then there was a storm, and when the storm ended, God said, "Go out into the road." And on the road through the woods was another man, and he was trapped beneath the crown of a large tree that had fallen. The man immediately ran over, lifted up the crown, and dragged the man out.
God said, "A month ago, you would not have been strong enough to lift those branches. By pushing against a rock far too heavy for you, you were just now strong enough to do what I had planned for you."
Christian, I appreciate the sentiment you shared. I'm sure it fits some people's experience really closely. Perhaps I'm missing the point — it wouldn't be the first time. But I struggle with the way this story seems to insinuate that our family's battle (which we lost) for our daughter's life is like resistance-training with a massive inanimate object. She is a person, as are her siblings.