The intimidating task of parenthood

Each of my children are uniquely created. Avalon's sensitivity means that she is the most loving and gentle of children. She embraces Willow as her sister and cares for her, with not so much as a hint of jealousy. Avalon's timidity means that she readily accepts direction from other adults and shows empathy towards others. This makes her wary of new company, but I believe it will develop her into being a loyal friend.

Willow's nature is subdued, but engaging. She's content to meet new people and offers up many smiles to strangers. I'm still waiting to see how her personality will develop, but my instinct is that she will be a welcomer. Someone who enjoys meeting people and exploring new relationships. Someone who embraces change.

I'm very excited to see how these girls will grow up into women. The life experiences that will sharpen off their weaker areas. The mother I am to them will shape them into the type of people they will be. How they think of themselves. What they think of their body. My words will be important in the choices they make as adults. My words will either make themselves doubt their abilities, or give them the freedom to try. My fears, if I'm not careful, will be transferred to them. My weaknesses will become theirs, just as I hope my strengths will.

The best thing I can do for my girls is to continue pursuing God. Not that I haven't found him. (Nik, be more succinct.) More that I need to be focused on my walk with Jesus and pursue his truth, so that his words are my words. Till the end of days when his passions are mine, and his praise is the only one I seek.

In this world where sin is held esteemed and selfishness is god, it is hard to maintain focus on the truth. How do I teach my girls that they don't need to dress provocatively to gain man's respect? How do I teach them that their hearts desire should be to pursue God's righteousness and the blessings that come from that life? I think, probably, that I need to demonstrate as best I can myself. Surely, I will fall and trip. They will see me as weak. As a woman still on my own journey with the Almighty. But my duty is to try to set an example for them to follow. To teach them the truth: Jesus is the only man who deserves my life, my all.

Guilt

I don't think there's anything I've ever experienced that brings me greater guilt than when I can't fulfill my duties as a mother.

I'm writing this while I listen to Avalon with hysterical tears dripping down her face. I've patted her for long enough to get a severe case of heartburn and aching legs that feel as though the veins will explode if i don't give them some time out. And unfortunately, 10 minutes patting and rubbing her while leaning over the cot is the best I can do with my pregnant limitations at the moment. It's such a shame that this is a repeat scenario every Friday and Sunday night when Craig's out and can't assist. It's almost as though she knows.

So I'm sitting here, trying to regain some type of strength so I can head back in and do some more stroking before my legs and arms give way under the strain of carrying another child.

I guess it's times like this where I sometimes think it would be so much easier to have a 3 year old and be in this situation. There's much less guilt when they're fully aware of what is required of them and they have the developed mind to understand what is meant by "it's time to sleep".

Needless to say, I've had a straining day today and I'm feeling more than a little sorry for myself, as Ava has only had 20 minutes sleep all day, and myself, 10. 

Ok, I'm gonna head back in to the zone and try to permeate calmness out of my pores despite feeling like I've been listening to nails down a chalkboard for the last month. (deep breath)

Please, no noise!

I never took offense to people with noisy cars before I had children. 

They were certainly unimpressive. Flaunting their powerful engines as they took off down the street. But now I get so incensed by our neighbours revving their engines in the driveway during baby sleep times that I feel myself get hot. That's a frightening level of anger. Especially towards someone who has no idea that there is a baby in the house near them. 

They don't realise (and neither did I until Avy arrived) that kids are quite sensitive sleepers. If they wake up and it's too hot to get back to sleep/ too noisy/ they're hungry/ they see an interesting toy, then that's it for the day. You can be assured that the remainder of the day is filled with a tired Mum (from little rest) and a grumpy child whose body begs for sleep, but who won't go back, no matter how much patting, milk bottles or shushing you do. This often leads to injury from tired little legs plodding around the house in an uncoordinated way, several tantrums from Mum saying 'no' to things they know they're not allowed to do and a general misery fills the house for the next 5 hours.

Then another attempted sleep time starts and this tired child is now over-tired and will not go to sleep unless you cuddle their heaving, wretching and shaking from sobs body almost to sleep. (This is not something I practice normally and am not keen to start accustoming myself to being 5 months pregnant.) A tired Mum, a tired baby and a very drawn out sleeptime leaves the whole house in a shambles for the rest of the night. Once she's finally asleep at 8.30, there's no way I have energy to do much healthy cooking or any cleaning to prepare myself for the following day.

These boys have no idea how their lives have collided with mine. I've never spoken a word to them in my life, but their actions have caused me suffering. And they'll probably never know it.

It makes me wonder whose lives I've impacted on negatively without ever having met them. If you're reading this and you think I might be that person- I'm sorry!

The joy of motherhood

Tonight I am tangibly filled with such a deep love for my daughter, Avalon. She touched my heart.

After crying for a little while, I decided to go see what the problem was because she hadn't settled herself back into sleep.

As I walked in she said "mumm." and then sat down.

My heart totally melted right there in the darkened room. To be called Mum by my own daughter for the first time was a special moment. She grabbed my hand as I lay her down to sleep and she held it against her cheek for a little while. Then sighed as if she just wanted to see me again, and turned her head to sleep.

I would do anything for her. Anything.

My thoughts go out to those pierced by the curse of this world. To those who have lost children. Either early or later in life. Their grief must be unbearable. And of course, the moment made me think of how high and wide God's love is for us. His own son, pierced for our wrongs. The only way to bring us together with our heavenly father eternally. So we aren't lost forever. What an admirable God! My love for him expands with each new experience of life as I understand him more.

The loss of an exceptional day…

 

Do you ever have an exceptional day? One of those days when your brain is working properly, and you feel inspired and like you could solve the worlds’ energy crisis with the power of your mind?

This is one of those days for me. Sadly, I know that in less than 15 minutes, my 8 month old daughter will awake, refreshed from a heavenly daytime sleep and require all of my energy to entertain her little growing mind. Here are some things I will not do this afternoon;

1. Solve the world energy crisis with an inspired regenerable energy source
2. Write a paper outlining exactly how the energy crisis will be solved
3. Ring up a parliamentary member with my idea and convincing them of said idea

 

Instead, I am aware that this rare day of brilliance will instead be filled with the following;

1. Dishes
2. Singing as many nursery rhymes as I can recall
3. Wrapping poo up in supposedly biodegradable (at some point in time) nappies
4. Possibly taking a crying child for a walk in the frickin’ freezing cold and picking up some more milk for when Craig returns from a conference, keen for a decent coffee tonight
5. Bathing a baby who has only been indoors all day and has still managed to get onto her hands and face every piece of filth in my house

In a sense, I’m relieved. Maybe I would have solved a part of the world’s energy crisis this afternoon (lets face it- it was a long shot) And it means that all this brilliance cannot be used on anything most people would see as worthwhile and brilliant. But, instead, it’s surrendered to helping someone else become brilliant. And I’m coming to accept that, no matter how frustrating it can be, becoming a mother truly must make you a better person.

This leaves me with two options- I could hate it and struggle through it and fight it every step of the way or accept it early and learn to love the sacrifice. And when I look to the cross of my saviour, I see my sacrifice really isn't that much of one anyway.