Reminder to self: In five years we'll look back on this day and laugh. Then we'll mark it in our journal to read back to our son, as our wedding speech. Perhaps as a narration to a slide show of crazy "wish were never taken" pictures. Just a little get even.
But today it isn't as funny. Today the little hiccups are stressful and even a little heart rending.
As parents, we are given these beautiful little people to raise, mold and care for. I treasure my little guys and they certainly know they are loved. Understood, maybe not so much. As parents, if we understood everything they needed when they needed it, then many of them would reach adulthood with fewer mental scars. There was no manual that came with the diaper bag and spit-up cloths.
All we have is the cache of experiences from our own childhoods. Our own memories of what it was like to be a little one. A kindness that worked for us when we were confused or distracted. A punishment that came with a lesson learned. Many of us have not studied early childhood behaviour manuals. When a child throws a tantrum it's an easy guess that you wouldn't reward that child with the object he's kicking up a fuss about but would you know if he's throwing the tantrum to get attention? Would you know if the reason he's acting out is out of insecurity or low blood sugar?
So without the manual we muddle through. We make our mistakes. We have our triumphs and celebrate. At the end of the day we sit dazed and worried. Or smile and pat ourselves on the back for not dying on that day's hill. The war and it's many battles still lying ahead.
I'm just one of a few mom's drinking from the vodka cow today. Each of us battling blindly to get our kids into adulthood with one less scar. It sounds dramatic because to us, it feels dramatic. They are our everythings.
In five or ten years, I hope I can look back on these days and chuckle. From my lips to God's Ears.
Weekend Reading, 3.18.18
9 hours ago