The Evolution of Motherhood

 Last week a friend of mine with two kids asked me how I do it with five kids. Suddenly the question sent me into a spiral of remembrance, to a time when I had just two kids.

And, yes, it was very hard. There were the obvious hard parts of parenting, like coordinating nap times, and taking two young children with the social skills of monkeys into public by myself, and cleaning up underneath the high chair five hundred times a day, and wondering if I’d ever know what it felt like to sleep again. Yes, all of that was quite difficult, but it didn’t last forever. My toddler and baby grew into a sweet, respectful, helpful seven and nine year old, and babies and toddlers were gradually thrown into the mix. And slowly, over time, it wasn’t so hard anymore.

Now some of that can be attributed to having older kids to distract the younger one. Yes, that is an absolute lifesaver!! As I am typing, my nine year old is building Lego's with the four year old, and has been off in imaginary Legoland for going on two hours. My seven year old is reading to the two year old. My baby is happily kicking at a mobile. It’s quite peaceful in the house in this particular moment, and it was just as peaceful 10 minutes ago when I realized my two year old had poked her thumb through the aluminum cover of more applesauce cups than she had committed to eat. And, also 20 minutes ago when I caught her coloring on the wall with a marker. And, also 45 minutes ago when she pulled her sister’s hair and I took her hand, and told her that we do not pull hair in this house. Our whole morning has been blissfully peaceful, even with crumbs scattered on the tile floor.

So, even though my season has shifted, I have also shifted as a person. I have evolved into someone who let’s a lot more go than I used to. What used to warrant wood spoon spankings now calls for a simple correction. What used to make me gag now makes me laugh. What used to make me scream now makes me breathe long slow breaths behind a closed door. What used to make me cry makes me pray. And, on and on the journey of evolution has brought me to someone who laughs a lot more than I cry, and I believe I can pinpoint to several keys that have lead me into peaceful parenting.

# 1: Enjoy your children.

Relish in them. The dancing and singing, and endless stories. The sweetest little request to read a book while you are in the middle of making dinner. The arms extended into the sky, bouncing at your side, expectant to be held. Just do it. Read to them, hold them, play bingo (and win. Mwahaha!), gawk over the most extravagant Lego jet that has ever been built in the history of Lego jets. Get on your knees to see them better. One of my favorite authors describes raising children as sprinkling gold dust on them, one kind act at a time, one controlled temper at a time, one kiss at a time, one book read at a time. Our culture wants to tell us that we can give them chunks of gold every now and then: a trip to Disney, a big allowance, dance lessons, a cell phone- whatever- and it will supplement gold dust, the every day ways we show love. But, it’s a lie. Not that there isn’t value in all the things we do to bless our children in big ways, but good parenting is the every day tending to their hearts.

Whenever parenting a particular child starts feeling overwhelming or difficult, I make it a point to enjoy them, doing something they like to do. I listen, if they need that. I speak into their hearts, if they need that. For some reason, in my early parenting days, I felt like parenting was a job. I was a boss. I was a a slave driver some days. Now I know that even though it is work, it’s not a job. I’m not a boss, I’m a parent. Kind of like a shepherd. I’m the embodiment of daily boundaries: “Yes you may do this. No you may not do that.” I set the tone of my home, and if it starts feeling chaotic, everything around me bows to my number one responsibility, making sure my children feel and recognize genuine love.

# 2: It’s not a crisis.

Now, before you think I’ve figured everything out, allow me to tell on myself. Poop used to be a crisis. If a 2 year old pooped in their undies after I asked them not to poop in their undies, I would wrestle them beneath a cold shower. “Mommy said not to poop in your undies. That is a NO-NO.” Those memories practically scar me!! I don’t know how my children turned out decent. I’m not sure why I thought potty-training was a crisis, but now, very little in my home is a crisis.

Potty-training is whatever. Poop on the floor is hilarious. Marker on the walls is a trademark of being a two year old. No, it isn’t allowed. Yes, I correct it. But it really isn’t a big deal. One of the best things Paul and I ever did was give permission to the two year old to be a two year old, and a four year old to be a four year old, and so on. Sometimes I will feel myself getting frustrated and Paul will say, “Honey, she’s four.” It’s okay to act your age in our house. You’re safe to freak out if someone rips your picture. You’re safe to scream at a sibling who broke your toy. You’re safe to melt into a puddle of grief if Daddy turns your show off.

Yes, there is correction. Yes, there is discipline if frustration turns to vengeance. But there is so much grace to be human. Parents spend so much time wanting kids to be good, well-mannered, predictable in social-settings…robots. I’ve found that enlisting theory # 1 (enjoying them), while treating them like multi-faceted, ever-changing, emotional humans that they actually are makes them really great kids. Treating explosive, annoying, or messy moments like they aren’t crises first helps you keep a level-head, but second, teaches your kids by example how to respond. And, just like the gold dust of every day goodness accumulates slowly, so does a graceful character.

Also, do you know what diffuses tantrums the quickest in our house? Hugs. Long, firm hugs. 

# 3: Correct Childhood foolishness, discipline rebellion.

This piece of wisdom saved me as a young mother grasping at a million different parenting theories. This. Just let me add, start training early. Start correcting early. Discipline consistently and kindly, and according to what works for each individual child. See, I told you parenting was work! I hear the dividends are through the roof though, so don’t give up sowing...in due time, you’ll reap a harvest of goodness.