I’m having a skinny day.
A skinny parenting day that is. I feel like I am stretched too thin over too many people, and too many issues, and would really love to have an extra set of arms, eyes, ears, and be a great, big, fatty boombah right now.
Or maybe just clone myself.
It seems that there is always something . Someone is hurting someone, or making them angry, or Ava is stealing food from the fridge, or Bailey has disappeared outside again. There is never a moments peace; never any time when someone is not upset about something, including me.
I know all the things I should be doing. I know all the problems and what to do to fix them, I just don’t seem to have the time. As I deal with one persons issues, someone else has a new one. I can literally go from person to person, talking through problems and solutions and consequences and whatever else, and not get anything done. Being a mum is a full time job; and that’s just the being a mum part.
Plus I feel as if the clock is ticking. Taylah is getting older and she is changing; her peer group is becoming increasingly important with her right now, and I know I need to strengthen our relationship so that I’m still the most influential person in her life. I can’t keep barking orders, and just letting her listen to her iPod and do her drawings; I need to be more proactive. I need to work harder.
But I’m stretched too thin.
On the news tonight they were talking about the miraculous survival of a 20 month old girl in Indiana, after a tornado killed her family. She is in a critical condition, but is still better off than her parents and her two and half year old brother and six week old sister.
As a mother, I hear that story, and I am amazed by the miracle, but devastated for the family.
Because they couldn’t hold on tight enough.
And with three little ones, so little, they were literally stretched too thin. There were not enough arms and not enough strength to keep them all safe.
And that’s my fear, sometimes, as a mother.
That I’m not enough.
As far as my kids are concerned I am. They love me and I meet all their day to day needs. We have a blessed and fortunate life.
But the rest; the heart stuff, the eternal stuff. That is where I fail. Where I get tired, or can’t cope or just plain lazy. It’s much easier to yell at the kids ‘to stop fighting,’ than to actually go and talk to them, and work out the dramas. It’s much easier to let them play on the floor and do whatever they want while I do my own thing, than to plan a routine and structure their day.
But I don’t have that luxury. Because storms come in life, and it’s what inside you that will get you through. That heart training is what will hold them steady when they are confronted by negative peer influences, and the temptations to make bad choices.
It will give them a framework to make good decisions; it will give them resolve, and integrity.
It will be what stops them from flying off in the tornado.
I have four children.
It is hard.
It is exhausting.
I feel like I am stretched too thin; that I am not enough.
But I am what they have got.
I’m as good as they get.
So I’ll get over how I feel and just keep plugging on.
I will choose to believe that I can do this well.
I will make right choices myself; choices that are based on what is eternally important, and not what is convenient right now.
I am enough.
My arms are big enough.
And I will not let go.