When I was a kid I had a swing set in the back yard. It had a slide and two swings and we (my sister and I) could spend hours swinging on that set. We would sometimes rest our tummy’s on the seats and spin the swing around and around allowing the chains to get twisted and tight. When the chains couldn’t be twisted any more we would lift up our feet and release the chain, allowing the swing to spin us around and around. We would step away from the swing afterwards feeling sick and dizzy but laughing all the same.
I remember one such time as I was walking away from the swing I tripped in my dizzy state and fell, scraping my knee on the hard ground. I hadn’t been on the ground for long when my Mom came and scooped me up into her arms and kissed the hurt away. I was safe, loved and comfortably secure.
I find myself doing the same thing for my children, sometimes causing my husband to tell me that they are manipulating me. I want them to know that I love them, I want to raise them to know that they can come to me no matter what they have done, or whatever happens to them. I want them to trust me. I don’t want to let them down. I want them to look back in the years to come and remember a time they fell, and in that memory I want to be the one who quickly scooped them up and loved them.
I want to find a balance between smothering, and allowing for mistakes and freedom.
It was my Dad who never judged me, not even when I did things that got me into real trouble. It was him who loved me and let me know that despite what trouble I get into he won’t stop loving me. He would sit and talk with me, not yelling, just listening and hearing me. Not that we didn’t have our fights, of the two of my parents my Father and I are most alike which has caused us to clash more than my Mom and I. However, to be told that I am like my Dad makes me proud. I want to be able to sit and listen to Josh or Kaleb tell me that they have done something wrong, and I want to listen to them. Love them and let them know that while there are consequences there will be no judgements on them as a person.
Why am I writing all this down in a blog? I am asking myself the same questions. I think that my heart is heavy with the burden of being a mother. It is like all of a sudden I have realized the depth of the responsibility placed on me. To raise men, good, loving, strong, independent men takes work, love and prayer. That is my job and up until now it hadn’t really hit me. Then, when my job is done I have to find the strength to let them go, to allow them to love another woman, to share everything with her and I need to find a way to be okay with that. I think I will need to pray every day that I find the strength to do that, that I am mother enough to let them go and watch from a distance as they grow in their manhood.
Sometimes I wish I had a girl… although I guess that suggests another whole host of worries.