Daniel and I were talking the other day about how we need to embrace our role as parents more. How parenting these boys needs to be viewed as a full-time job-- even though we both have other jobs as well. Because, ultimately, we have one shot at this. One chance to shape these boys into the men they will one day become. I find it to be a very intimidating task. Because I am tired. Really,
really, bone-deep weary.
I am constantly wishing the hours to naptime and bedtime would pass quickly. The boys are up by 5:30 am every single day. That is a lot of hours to fill before I can get a little break while they are sleeping.
And I find myself wishing for Tuesdays and Thursdays to roll back around-- the mornings Carver goes to school. He loves it, and I love a slightly quiter morning.
And sometimes I wish for the boys to progress more quickly. Carson to start sleeping on his own for more than 1 hour stretch at a time, Carver to get potty-trained, Carson to be able to entertain himself a little better, and Carver to be able to be a little more self-sufficient.
All of these things would be great. And eventually
must happen. But, they are only this age one time. This is the only time I will ever have them as a just-turned-three year old and an 8 month old. This is it. The more time I spend wishing for different things is less time that I am really embracing who they are now, and where we are at this point in our lives.
Because as soon as each one entered the world my entire life-view shifted. In almost perfect clarity I knew,
just knew, that this was my calling in life-- at least for now. Never would I have thought I would be a stay-at-home-mom. Never. But, this is it for me. This is what I am supposed to be doing. Loving, nurturing, teaching, disciplining, RAISING these boys.
Yet so many days I go to bed and should fall right to sleep because I only have about a 1-2 hour block to sleep in bed without the little boy in bed with me. But, I can't fall asleep. All I can do is replay all of the moments I am
really not proud of from that day. Moments when I was incredibly impatient with Carver. Or yelled at Cargy to "just be quiet"-- even though he is only 8 months old and has no idea what that means. Or dragged a screaming and crying 3 year old into the house when all he wants to do is run around outside for a few minutes.
I wonder if these are the moments that will be tattoed onto their minds. So that when they are older kids or even adults they will remember me yelling, or being frustrated, or saying something that is not kind and not fair. Will they remember how many times a day I hug, kiss, and hold them? Or will they remember all the times I say, "not right now," or "in a minute," and then that minute never comes? Will Carver remember all of the crafts and activities we do or will he only remember that when he wanted to go outside I told him no?
Will these boys know how much I love them? How my world is only a tolerable place because they are in it? Will they know that there is nothing in the world that could change the way I feel about them? And will they know that I am trying so hard to be exactly what they need?
So with this new year comes a renewed commitment to them. To holding Carver every time he asks. To embracing night-time moments with Carson. To understanding and loving Carver's heart, even when his actions are not what I would choose. Because when they grow up there are certain things I really want them to remember about us and their childhood.
-- I want them to remember that we told them and showed them that we loved them every single day. Multiple times a day.
-- I want them to remember that we had fun. Because childhood should be fun. In little and big ways. Adulthood with all of its stress and responsibility and worry will come soon enough.
-- I want them to remember that we taught them things that they would need later. Like working on cars and building things. And doing laundry and cooking a meal and how to clean their rooms.
-- I want them to remember that Jesus was important in our home. That we pray together, and go to church together and we read Bible stories, not just fairy tales.
-- I want them to know, without any moment of doubt, that we will protect them. Whether they are children or older. We are their safe place to fall. We will help in any way we can. And while they will one day know fear and intimidation and stress-- they will not know it in our home, they will not know it as a child.
Daniel and I are committed to this job of raising Carver and Carson. We will struggle. We will make mistakes. We will disagree with each other and we will at times have no idea what to do next. But, we will make it. This is our job. The most important one we will ever have. So, I will change where I need to change. And mellow where I need to mellow. And I will pray. And pray. And pray.
