Some Ramblings

I had no idea what parenting would be like. It's the hardest thing I have ever done. Sometimes I think it's the suckiest thing I've ever done... sometimes, the most fun. Sometimes the sucky feeling outweighs the fun one, and on those days, it seems like the sucky feeling really dominates the big picture. But it doesn't, I guess. No... it doesn't. But I had no idea I would have to power through, with a cranky preschooler, those days where, before I was a mom, I would just not talk to people, and do my best to avoid any meaningful interaction. It was easy damage control, a pleasant sort of "checking out", and worked nicely most of the time on those off days. But nothing is easy, nothing works perfectly nicely anymore. There is no checking out. Now, on those occasional days when I wake up feeling like strings are tied to my forehead, my eyebrows and the corners of my mouth, constantly pulling my face and head toward the ground, I have to smile, bite my tongue, keep the fury out of my voice and meaningfully instruct and guide one of the wildest, most confusing, and, at times, most infuriating forces I have ever encountered: a high energy male preschooler whose temperament is identical to mine (plus a bit more testosterone). I had no idea that every mistake, every embarrassing outburst, every kid-ish, boy-ish thing he would do, I would somehow personalize, knowing I shouldn't, but, nonetheless, battling the subtle underlying belief that these foibles are the result of my inadequacies as a parent. I know kids are humans and they make mistakes, but I still struggle back and forth, back and forth, between what I know and what I feel. I, of course, have always played this tug o' war between the know and the feel -- I know I'm saved by grace, but I feel like a wretch, and so on and so forth. Haven't we all? But when you become a parent, you watch that internal struggle become real and take on a life of its own, with a will of its own. Worn out and hungry, it darts around like a shark, looking for what it can get into, and grabs way too much juice from the serve-yourself jug, which you must, as a good parent, take away. So it hollers, clobbers you in the leg, and bites you hard on the arm. You lose it a little and grab it by the collar of its shirt to escort it to the car, because, frankly, you feel the same way it does. And all this right in the middle of fellowship time after second service. Stellar parenting. Real good times.
No, I had no idea what being a parent would be like. I certainly didn't expect to be the parent of my own temperament, my own struggles. I didn't expect to love so much and care so much that every mistake, every failure aches and pounds down on my soul. I didn't expect to worry and take things so seriously. I know I need to lighten up. But it's hard to do that all the time, because some days are heavy, whether you like it or not. Some days are really heavy.
I gave birth to a dynamo. He is certain to conquer something. I know he'll conquer his own torments, with the help of God, who he's already learning to love. Believe it or not, in the moment-by-moment he's more obedient than most kids I meet. He's kind, funny, cute as a bee's knee. He loves people and talks to anyone. He's my sidekick, my buddy, my teacher and my spiritual reflection. I love him more than life itself. Would I die for him? It's like asking whether I'd take the next breath. I just want to do this thing right so badly that it hurts. I have never wanted anything so badly that I cannot control. And please don't offer up practical advice. I know and put into practice all the tricks, all the methods, as consistently as I'm able... I've read and am reading all the books. I'm just having a tired day, that's all. Really. Just tell me I'm not a horrible mom, and you understand how I feel.
It's so bizarre. Before I had kids, I knew worn out parents who would insist they didn't regret becoming parents, and that, if given the opportunity, there's no way they'd go back in time and avoid having kids. I used to think they were lying out of guilt. I thought I saw right through their little obligatory smoke screen. No way could they be working so hard at something that could be so completely frustrating and seemingly miserable at times, and yet be so totally in love with it. It went against everything I understood and knew... because I didn't know what it meant to be a parent. *Sigh* Thanks for listening to my hysterical ramblings. I feel better. Sorry about the typos, etc.
Syb