Ergo....

Alex and I butt heads and test one another on a daily basis. I lose my temper? He throws himself on the ground and begins beating his head. I raise my voice to discipline? He laughs in defiance. He’s small, he’s quiet and I lose him in the house on a daily basis. He’s smart and strong-willed. He’s a dare-devil who loves to leap from high places. People gasp. I sigh. 

I love him. From the depths of my heart to the bottom of my toes I love him. I mourn that I was not the mother who carried him in my womb and brought him into this world. I anguish on the fact that he did not feel my love for him the moment he was conceived, that it was not me who was able to provide him safety and nourishment within the womb and cradle his sweet face and nuzzle his little neck his first day on earth.

I’ve had to parent him entirely differently from Wyatt and a lot of days I feel broken and incapable. I know that the Lord is using Alex in my life to stretch, mold and break me into a better, stronger person. His inability to communicate his needs in a clear way forces me to listen, repeat, listen, repeat…and focus on what he’s trying to say. He snaps me into having to be present…REALLY present. The Lord has broken me into learning patience. The Lord is dealing with my anger issues. Alex is my emotional barometer. Each emotion I display is reflected in my child’s behaviors. There is nothing more simultaneously humbling and horrifying. The Lord has brought the hammer down on my judgmental spirit. We have no idea what another human being is going through. Instead of an eye roll, I ask that momma if she needs help getting things to her car. A mother’s kid is screaming and tantruming in the store? I tell that mom.. You got this. A kid looks like he hasn’t bathed in days and is eating an ice cream cone? I get it. Do whatchya gotta do. I have no idea what I’m doing. There was a picture on Facebook that I posted of Alex in the ergo. It had been months since I had put him in that ergo. Naturally it was another day of ultimate nap resistance despite him needing one, and he was beside himself. I was beside myself. So I threw him in the pack….he was feeling my frustration, my anger, my exasperation…and I believe in those moments he just needs to know I’m there, despite myself, and he needs to feel my love for him despite what I may be saying or showing. So in the pack he goes and he immediately settled and fell asleep. I feel uncomfortable with people saying I wish you were my mom, you’re so sweet…on and on….because no-one saw the moments leading up to that raw picture of seeming sweetness. It is only by God’s grace that I get through the day. It is only by his strength that I make it to the end of the day without having verbally torn my children to shreds. I am a work in progress….and I am thankful for my savior who daily packs me into his ergo and holds me close…because momming is hard..and I’m pretty sure it does not get any easier. 

Thank God it’s Friday.