My children are still in the fairly simple psychological state where things are, for the most part, black and white. Their worlds are what they are, and regardless of what I'm doing or how I react to them, they have yet to tailspin into some cesspool of resentment and indignation that causes them to manipulate me. They're just... children. In any given situation, their take on it is this: I need you. Or I don't need you.Things are more complex here in the adult world. Sometimes it's: I need you, but I'm afraid to ask for help. Or: I need help, but I don't want it from you. Even: I don't need you, so why are you involving yourself in this? Hardly black and white. It's heavy, man.
It is a strange paradox to be sitting on the couch, quietly swirling in my private vortex of burdens and problem-solving, while my boys clamor around on the rug, excitedly pointing out the green truck and beseeching me for more apple juice... please! I want to escape through the wardrobe to sit beside them and enjoy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while the larger cares of the world whiz by me. But I guess I had my time as an innocent. I've emerged onto the long stretch of highway filled with knowingness, and it's one-way.
This morning, Eli and I made eye contact from across the living room. "Eli...." I cooed, and he rewarded me with a brief, toothy grin. Then he started wailing. I don't need you. Okay, now I do.
He teetered an agonizing few feet, still sobbing, then collapsed onto his hands and knees to crawl the rest of the way. When he reached me, he discarded the toy he'd dragged along and lifted his small hands in the air- I need you.
After several minutes of thrashing around, trying to find a comfortable spot on my lap despite my ever-growing stomach, he turned and with a loud sigh pressed his slightly perspiring forehead to my lips for a kiss- I need you.
Now he is asleep in his crib, rump in the air and little feet crossed at the ankles, dreaming about...? And I am still on the couch, talking to Gabriel as he puts together a detailed Matchbox car structure on the floor and treading water amid my grown-up thoughts. Praying for guidance. Mouthing, "I need You."
3 comments:
Oh to be a kid again! When your biggest worry was who's house to play at or what to do at recess. Being a woman/wife/mother is huge. Its the good, the bad, and the ugly (and the great...there's too many negatives there :) ). My mind too, goes a mile a minute-worries, fears, plans, excitement, grocery lists, mommy guilt, etc. I will tell you what I think every mom needs to hear on a semi regular basis: The fact that you birthed some babies speaks to your strength. God chose you to be a mother to your beautiful children. I don't even know you, but I bet they are pretty lucky to have you as their mom. Remember you are a rock star!
Those deep thoughts of yours are felt through the internet...so surely God can feel them too? You're doing a wonderful job. And you're right...your innocent time is over. But that doesn't mean that unadulterated joy is over too! That part's just getting started...only sometimes it comes with a price :\
Chin up!
I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I often let my own worries interfere with taking care of the kids.
I've noticed that the more I worry about stuff the less they seem to work themselves out. It doesn't stop me from worrying though.
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