As my daughter's awareness broadens she is becoming more influenced by my intentions and my priorities. She is studiously starting to display some of my habits. Hey turns out to be my most liberal arsenal. As she repeats the words I say with the same attitude I use, I want more and more to change.
I desire to be more productive and more focused. (Facebook check again? Internet detour?) I long to be more efficient with my housework. Sometimes I think I must be the slowest housekeeper ever and I can't believe my struggle with organization. Being able to fix basic clothing issues would be convenient (as the garbage is not the most economical solution). In the kitchen I would really desire to expand on my cooking abilities. I would love to model great friendships. Every moment I long to live in the spirit to show my family faith. And patience and love. I would really like to cultivate those things in my life.
I don't want my daughter to see me nag at my husband or yell at the dogs. I don't want her to witness me give up too soon. If there is even a smidgen of possibility, I want to be able to display perseverance and a calm demeanor when faced with an inconvenience. They say not to cry over spilled milk, but today as I cleaned the kitchen I wanted to cry when I knocked the sugar bowl all over the counter and and floor.
As she ages I don't want to feed her snacks all day instead of getting her to know what makes a healthy meal. Muffins and fruit and cheese make an appearance too often. Which is currently to her joy, but not for long.
My list could go on and on and on. I am responsible for a growing human being--Yikes!-- and sometimes I feel my choices and actions do not benefit her as much as they could. You get out what you put in and I second guess the thoroughness of my investment. I am grateful that my motivations aren't overpowered by the desire to please others anymore. I've been quite humbled in my parenting journey. But my rationalization is still not healthy. I am strongly trying to prevent her from living my frustrations of coming into being an adult.
Adulthood hit me hard. I didn't feel I knew how to clean properly. I had to learn how to cook. I struggled with stress. I was horrible with money. (Ahem, I am horrible with money.) Relationships were impossible. Communication was difficult. Trusting was non-existent. And I kept coming back to parental sources for my frustrations. And so I want to be the best I can be to help my daughter. I'm okay with things that are obviously not me. I'm not going to...
blush.There's my issue. I want to do it all. I want to bake, cook, sing, sew, teach, cuddle, smile, laugh, admonish, exercise, clean, create...
And every time she gets angry, impatient, or irritable I have to stop myself from analyzing what I need to do in order to change her feelings and reactions. She's a full blown toddler. She has to test my boundaries. She has to push through the difficult in order to learn. She's going to change her mind and get frustrated. I can do my best but it will still happen. I have to stay the course, as if letting a butterfly struggle out of the cocoon instead of helping and releasing a weak butterfly. My daughter will only fly if I let her find her wings.
She doesn't need the best cook. She needs someone who will sit and eat with her. She doesn't need a perfectly clean house. She needs a place to play and eat and sleep safely. She doesn't need the most proper mom. She needs someone who will pay attention to her and be there for her. She doesn't need a parent who displays perfection. She needs a parent who models forgiveness and effort. She doesn't need a mom who can fix everything. She needs a mom who will care in all things. She doesn't need to witness a faultless wife. She needs to see honest relationships with communication and compromise.
She doesn't need super mom. She just needs mom.
I can work on every sphere I think she'll want me to and still she will be frustrated with an area of lack. There is no such thing as a perfect parent. But if I am too busy trying to be one I am going to miss out on enjoying each of her short-lived stages and on bonding with her like I was gloriously meant to. I don't want to negligently build a wall between us with my clutter of thoughts and intentions and fears. Instead those bricks can be tossed aside and together we can walk over them. Together.
Let's play on the dirty floor. Wear stained pants. Sing the wrong words to songs. Be tardy. Forget about a food group for the day. Daydream. Stay up too late. Express our frustration. Make a mess. Live in God's grace.
Let's be the best we can be. But never at the expense of us.
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