Ever notice how when you get really involved in a hobby it starts leaking into all aspects of your life? Like how you explain the way you see your children?
I’ve been purposely introspective lately about how I see my children, how I treat my children, how I discipline my children, how I reward my children, and how I train my children. Little by little I am figuring things out. And today I think I figured out something big.
I want many small children. I knew this from the time Olivia was tiny. I loved reading blogs and stories and seeing in real life how a house full of small children runs. I love seeing them enjoy each other’s presence as children and I love seeing grown siblings who maintain close relationships with each other. I want that for my children.
But lately I realized that my own relationship with my own many small children is strained. And I’ve been trying to pick that apart.
And while washing a load of dishes (I do a lot of good thinking during dishes), I realized I had been holding my breath.
There’s a certain stage of childhood that people may or may not refer to as “Terrible.” I’ve already stated I don’t like that label and previously had dedicated myself to living as though I’d never heard it. But I’ve slipped. I acknowledged the existence of that phase and subconsciously decided the best way to deal with it is to sprint through it.
So I held my breath, ducked my head, and went for it.
And I may have gotten away with it, too, if I only had one child.
Because just as we ended that phase with the older child, the younger started dipping his toes in the water. And then he decided to just jump in. And so I kept sprinting. Waiting for the day it would be over. Trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And just as it starts to brighten…
Levi comes around.
And while washing that load of dishes I realized my frustration with my children is that I don’t want them to be children. I’m not enjoying their childhood. I’m trying to sprint through the entirety of it.
Children play. They play with each other and they want to play with me. Children learn. They learn through play. This means they don’t get everything right and, despite what they think, they don’t know everything.
This is the training period. That is my job. I am to train them.
The goal should not be merely to survive childhood, but to make the most of it. To train them up in the way they should go while enjoying their presence and trying your best to also make it enjoyable for them.
It’s a test of endurance, raising many small children. Breath in, breath out. Open my eyes. Slow down. But don’t stop. I can do this. With your grace and provision, God, I can do this.
i just blogged in a sort of similar sentiment. i am also finally realizing some of the same lessons: kids are wired the way they are for a reason, and it is my mom duty to point them to christ in their own mistakes, as well as mine. and amazingly, he gives us the grace to do just that.
.-= misty´s last blog ..the race =-.
Two books that helped me relate more to Hans (and realize that sometimes I’m just killing his childlike delight, instead of punishing true childish behavior) were Mommy, Teach Me! (Barbara Curtis) and For the Children’s Sake (Susan Schaeffer McCaullay or something spelled like that). I have to constantly remind myself of those lessons, though :-P. And it is obviously good to keep a balance and teach kids to have appropriate behaviors and manners. I’m not a fan of the wild-monkey “free spirit” parenting approach, but kids need to know it’s okay to be kids :-).
.-= Susan´s last blog .. =-.
I recently had an acquaintance point out that adults often try to make children move and work at their pace instead of slowing down and allowing them to choose the rate at which they learn and grow. My six year old walks sooo slooowly and I found myself rushing ahead of him while admonishing to hurry up over my shoulder. What was my rush? Nothing, but I was so accustomed to hurrying myself that I forgot to slow down for him. There are times when we must hurry, but for the most part I’ve learned to allow him to pick the pace and slow myself down when there is nothing pressing us. This thinking I’ve also applied to his learning (slow to pick of phonics) and also to his communication (not the best talker) as well as the things he excels at (want someone to figure out how to draw a house or a map? He’s your guy.) It’s surprising how we find ourselves hurrying our kids along.
Thank you so much for writing this. I’ve been really struggling with not enjoying my kids lately, and God has really been directing me toward help and encouragement – and this post was something I really needed to read!