I never knew just how much my identity was tied to my children. For the record, I admit that I was a serious helicopter mom while my kids were growing up. I stepped in when I should have backed off. I defended when I should have (well, maybe not) let it go. I cheered the loudest when I should have acted “normal”. I barged in when I should have knocked (not just doors either). I put my two-cents in when I should have kept my money in my pocket. I rescued when I should have let the consequences take their course.
But, I did it all with a mad crazy love for each of my children and I’d probably do it all again.
Recently, I was talking to a young mother of 4 boys. They ranged from birth to 6 years old and while they crawled all over the dinner booth of the restaurant where we were eating, she lovingly offered each one of them her undivided attention. Her patience and kindness was unique, so many moms are frazzled and overwhelmed these days. I praised her and reminded her just how quickly these days slip away.
I didn’t realize how much of who I was – was wrapped around being the mom to my children. Until…. they all moved out and my noisy busy house turned into a quiet empty shell. For many moms, the empty nest becomes a sort of mixed bag of emotions. Some are beyond ready to let their birds fly while others of us feel a constant lump in the throat when that last light is clicked off each night. It’s not that we can’t function, it’s just that we are at our best when we are doing what we love most…mothering.
My own growing up years were riddled with issues. I had a loving mother but I also had an abusive one. She used her words to tear me down and she turned physically violent when she couldn’t figure out how to discipline within reason. Her reactions could be harsh and my sensitive spirit took the brunt of her dysfunctional behaviors. She loved me but for most of my life growing up, she didn’t love herself. Still, she was my mother and I loved her. I knew somehow that God was going to redeem me and that I’d experience motherly love….perhaps by blessing my own children with the love they deserve.
What exactly is it that children need anyway? To feel blessed? In my own simple thinking, I felt certain that each of them needed to know their value. Not just their value to me but their value as human beings and children of God. This was easy to do (for me) because I was madly in love with each of them from the moment I found out they were being formed inside my womb. I never wanted to give them a false sense of importance (the kind that turns perfectly good little humans into spoiled rotten brats) but I wanted them to feel special and loved.
How did I do that? Show them love?
Through my words and touch.
Our world is full of adults that never knew kind words or physical touch from their parents. Not that their parents didn’t feel love for them but they never shared it. I’ve read stories, heard personal accounts and experienced wounded people during my lifetime that the number one problem in their lives could be traced back to a distant or unloving parent. So many have never heard, “I love you” or “You’re a great kid”. Many have never felt the warm hug or the snuggle of sweetness that only a parent can give.
In defense of these kinds of parents, many of them feel that simply being there in their children’s lives shows that they love them.
From the day I first got my hands on each of my children, I held them and loved on them. I sang sweet words in their ears and I smiled at them with a joy in my heart. I never wanted them to wonder….If I loved them!
Children don’t get a say in who their parents are…. when I was having a bad day, I tried hard not to take it out on my kids. I remember catching the ugliness from my mother’s bad days. While it wasn’t my fault, I often felt the negative reactions must have somehow been linked to me. She admitted regret for that stuff before she died and she admonished me for the kind and loving mother that I was to my own children.
I consider that a gift. All the unkind words throughout my life – felt like they had been erased from the paper of my heart. I can still see some of the writing….but mostly, it has faded away. Words are powerful!
As I reflect back on my days as a mom….. these are some of the things I did to bless my kids –>
Spoke affirming words over their lives.
Gave them meaningful touch; hugs, kisses, holding them, rocking chair time, massages, tickles on the back, back scratches and hair brushing.
Picturing their unique and special future with them.
Loving their father and honoring him (even when I wanted to bong him on the head).
Living out loud in front of them my own faith in Jesus Christ.
Asking them for forgiveness.
Admitting my mistakes.
Disciplined them when they needed it.
Showed them respect.
Gave them responsibilities.
Praised their efforts.
Expected patience, kindness, goodness and love from them.
Wished them the best in every situation.
Opened my heart to their particular personality and needs.
Reminded them WHOM they belong to (and it’s not just me).
Supplied them with the tools to succeed.
Helped them learn social skills and manners.
Shared them with family and friends.
Equipped them with the truth about God and who He is in their lives.
Prayed with them. Prayed for them. Prayed in front of them.
and
Entrusted each of them to GOD!
Did I do everything right? Absolutely not. Did I fall short and lose my cool? Heck yea. Did I have to own up to my mistakes to my kids? Oh yes. Time and time again. Do my kids know I love them? I think so. Do my kids look forward to parenting their own kids someday? Yes! Yes! Yes!
Being their mother brings me joy, fills me with pride and lathers me in excitement that it’s only just the beginning of our relationship. Someday, these amazing people will parent my grandchildren and I will get to be another kind of mom!
God
You are the giver of everything. Thank you for making me a mom. I have no greater calling than to have been called that name.
Amen