Remembering to Listen

Motherhood.  I remember being pregnant with my first child and idealizing what my relationship with him would be like.  He would be peaceful and beautiful as a newborn.  Sure, I would lose sleep.  Every new parent does.  I could handle nights where I only got 4 hours in my own bed.  When he was awake I would love him, interact with him, and constantly hold him next to me as I went about my day.  Totally feasible, right?  Something happens in that hospital room, though.  After months and months of dreaming, and hours of laboring, a tiny pink thing is laid upon your chest and you are suddenly a mother.  Yes, that wrinkly ball of cries and goo is your child.  He was beautiful, no doubt about that.  But was he peaceful? Oh no.  Did I love him and talk to him during those long days at home with my only companion being a tiny person who couldn't hold a conversation? Sure.  I did, however, put him down in his bouncer whenever I had a chance to shower or prep a meal with two hands.  I will admit that 4 hours of sleep is enough to feel human on.  The trick is that those 4 hours need to be consecutive.  Babies aren't keen on consecutive. 

As my baby grew into a toddler, I found myself certain that I would have a well behaved child who was obedient and quiet while out in public.  For the most part this was true.  My son was an easy toddler.  Restaurants were never a problem, and he nearly always behaved when sitting in the Target shopping cart.  These years boosted my resolve to be the best mom ever.  My son would be the picture of perfect parenting.  Heck, he was potty trained at 22 months!  This was easy!

As the years went on, and as he grew taller and smarter, my picture perfect child was slowly being chipped away by chisel sharpened with disobedience and willfulness.  I watched my compliant son morph into someone who was easily frustrated by little things, and supremely stubborn about anything he didn't want to do.  But you know what?  It isn't that my perfect child is changing before my eyes.  It's my ideals that are being chipped away.  My son is not my possession.  He is not something that I can command.  He is an individual.  He is a soul.  He is uniquely created by my Lord, and he is His alone.  I am here to guide him, and help him shape out his person and his dreams.  I can't do that while I am yelling at him to obey.

Today my daughter earned a new Lego set because of a new accomplishment with potty training.  My general rule regarding toys is that a brand new toy doesn't need to be shared the first day.  Any day beyond that, if something isn't being played with it is fair game.  My son desperately wanted to play with it, and my daughter was not keen on that so she pushed him away.  Being frustrated, he kept trying to play with the new set.  I had to physically remove him, and as soon as he released his hold on the toys he began to cry.  Usually when he does this I get impatient and tell him that he needs to be okay with the situation.  I'm just being honest here.  Today though I remained calm and let him cry.  After a few minutes I assured him that it is okay to be sad, and that I would like for him to explain to me why he was so upset.  Choking back a few tears, he agreed to talk but wanted to do it in the private of my bedroom.  I said that would be fine, and we walked together down the hall.  What happened next was not what I expected.

I put him up on my bed so we wouldn't have to sit on the tile floor, and he started to cry again.  I assumed this whole thing had been about the new toy, so I asked him if that was the problem.  He shook his head and began to explain to me (between sobs) that my daughter never wanted to play with him anymore.  Granted, she is now 2.5 and very opinionated about what she wants to do.  Being attacked by a 5 year old brother who wants to wrestle and sword fight is not her idea of fun.  But my son felt rejected.  It wasn't just about a new toy that she didn't want to share.  He felt rejected by her when she turned away or didn't want to listen to his ideas for fun games.  He felt alone when we suggested that he play by himself if his sister didn't want to join in.  For a child whose love language is quality time, these things were huge.  So after the tears were shed we came up with a plan.  I assured him that he could come to me if she was not wanting to play and he was feeling let down.  I want to help him learn to play with her in ways that she will enjoy as well.  But if she just wants time alone, I want him to know that he can come find me.  He can help me with the dishes or assist me with making dinner.  He can fold laundry alongside me when he doesn't want to feel alone or left out.  I can put down my phone and play Star Wars battles with him around the kitchen table.  This is my son.  This is my world.  This is a tiny person who loves, laughs, cries, and screams just as I do.

I would definitely say that my ideals have been shattered these past 5 years, but they needed to be.  Nothing can prepare you for parenthood.  No matter how many books you read or classes you take, your little child is a unique individual.  No book can teach you how to love him.  No course can instruct you how to support him.  You just need to take a step back and listen.  Open your ears and your heart to who he is, what he feels, and how he dreams.