It's Saturday afternoon. My five year old is falling to pieces. He has an invisible zipper that runs from his head to his toes and someone unzipped him. Like a cranky newborn, but he's five. I'm beside myself with how to zip him back up. How to put back all these emotions and words that have spilled out. I want to be Endearing Mommy, Loving but Firm Mommy. But I can't think like Wise Mommy because even though I see this often when he's tired, threatened, embarrassed or shy, I am....simply....exhausted.
I don't make sense to myself even. While I know I'm not alone, I feel at a loss. I am vulnerable to his emotions like a puppet on a string. I ache to be Bigger than his moods. I ache to rise above his stuff and not determine my mood by his. But as much as I ache and I try, I just can't seem to be Bigger.
How do I zip him back up? Some days its easy and some days I simply forget during a tense moment of emotion, that.....
...that if I met his quirks with love and careful consideration before reacting, then he could be restored and I might be revived. I know that my love for him which is given to me by Christ could change him little by little. I know that a mothers love can change the world.
What else do I know?
I know that Shane was created for me and I was created for him. He is God's gift to me. I know that out of all the mom's in the universe, God chose me. I've been chosen for him. And with that, I was given the gift of Love and Knowing designed uniquely for him. If there was a room filled with seasoned moms only I know that he likes honey and not jam with his peanut butter sandwich. Only I know that when he naps he always takes off his sweater and socks. He's a fierce leader on the playground and a brilliant performer on the couch with his toy microphone. He likes his sandwiches cut in half, his pancakes in small bights and his hot dog on a fork for the soul purpose of keeping his fingers clean. I know that he loves new clothes. Only I know that he will kiss me only on the lips, that he loves to snuggle right after naps but not too long, that he likes his milk heated up, that chewy treats are ewww, and that Pirate Popcorn is the stuff of men. I know he's exceptionally responsible, tender to the ones he loves and loyal to his friends. I know his love languages, his need to be a leader and Spider man, and that he fidgets non-stop then crashes into bed (after making sure every hair on his head is slicked down). I can tell from across the room when he's about to erupt, that he'll need my hand to hold after being punished, and that I'm his Sweet Mommy.
While he demands a lot of attention and has the capability to turn a peaceful Saturday afternoon, suddenly and abruptly into a battle I know deep in my heart that he's the one I'll fight for, for as long as it takes.
Even if it means that the one I'm facing on the battlefield, is myself.
He's a toughie this unzipped boy of mine. Those moments (sometimes hours) feel like an eternity. I know that I know that my five year old will mature (slowly) but that he needs my help throughout the process. Equipping myself with tools to manage his emotions in healthy and healing ways turns his alone journey into an exhausting but teamwork effort. He needs me at battle because no one else will. That's mom's job. To battle for my child means, specific to him quality time with play, reading, family togetherness, accompanied with naps, rest and quiet, as well as boundaries, an authoritative voice, responsibility and room to fail.
Lacking in any of that which realistically speaking he does, means he comes unzipped. And so that's just what happens. But after he's tucked in I know (sigh) I'll keep trying...even though the zipper gets snagged on the way up.
I don't make sense to myself even. While I know I'm not alone, I feel at a loss. I am vulnerable to his emotions like a puppet on a string. I ache to be Bigger than his moods. I ache to rise above his stuff and not determine my mood by his. But as much as I ache and I try, I just can't seem to be Bigger.
How do I zip him back up? Some days its easy and some days I simply forget during a tense moment of emotion, that.....
...that if I met his quirks with love and careful consideration before reacting, then he could be restored and I might be revived. I know that my love for him which is given to me by Christ could change him little by little. I know that a mothers love can change the world.
What else do I know?
I know that Shane was created for me and I was created for him. He is God's gift to me. I know that out of all the mom's in the universe, God chose me. I've been chosen for him. And with that, I was given the gift of Love and Knowing designed uniquely for him. If there was a room filled with seasoned moms only I know that he likes honey and not jam with his peanut butter sandwich. Only I know that when he naps he always takes off his sweater and socks. He's a fierce leader on the playground and a brilliant performer on the couch with his toy microphone. He likes his sandwiches cut in half, his pancakes in small bights and his hot dog on a fork for the soul purpose of keeping his fingers clean. I know that he loves new clothes. Only I know that he will kiss me only on the lips, that he loves to snuggle right after naps but not too long, that he likes his milk heated up, that chewy treats are ewww, and that Pirate Popcorn is the stuff of men. I know he's exceptionally responsible, tender to the ones he loves and loyal to his friends. I know his love languages, his need to be a leader and Spider man, and that he fidgets non-stop then crashes into bed (after making sure every hair on his head is slicked down). I can tell from across the room when he's about to erupt, that he'll need my hand to hold after being punished, and that I'm his Sweet Mommy.
While he demands a lot of attention and has the capability to turn a peaceful Saturday afternoon, suddenly and abruptly into a battle I know deep in my heart that he's the one I'll fight for, for as long as it takes.
Even if it means that the one I'm facing on the battlefield, is myself.
He's a toughie this unzipped boy of mine. Those moments (sometimes hours) feel like an eternity. I know that I know that my five year old will mature (slowly) but that he needs my help throughout the process. Equipping myself with tools to manage his emotions in healthy and healing ways turns his alone journey into an exhausting but teamwork effort. He needs me at battle because no one else will. That's mom's job. To battle for my child means, specific to him quality time with play, reading, family togetherness, accompanied with naps, rest and quiet, as well as boundaries, an authoritative voice, responsibility and room to fail.
Lacking in any of that which realistically speaking he does, means he comes unzipped. And so that's just what happens. But after he's tucked in I know (sigh) I'll keep trying...even though the zipper gets snagged on the way up.
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