Parenting is hard. And those little people know how to push our buttons sometimes, don’t they? This post is here to validate that struggle and encourage you as you are do your best in parenting with patience. It’s not easy. But it is possible. And it is very important for the little hearts entrusted to us.
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Thoughts on patience
I’ve been thinking a lot about parenting with patience lately. Maybe it’s because my patience has been struggling a bit? We’ll go with it’s because I’m super in tune with the need for my kids to only see the best of me……right. I thought I’d share what some of those thoughts have been.
Not long ago we were riding in the car as a family. You’ll never guess what happened. My kids were talking and giggling together! I know it’s hard to believe. I couldn’t believe it myself! I silently got my husband’s attention and indicated for him to listen. We both basked in the beautiful sound of happy children getting along for as long as it lasted. That was a glorious day.
Most car rides are not that enjoyable. Most car rides have some version of kids fighting, parents threatening, one child hitting, one child crying, one child thirsty, one child (or five!) hungry, parents frustrated, kids angry…. You get the picture.
Some days I want to pull my hair out. Some days I want to hide in my bedroom and shovel ice cream in my face. Some days I want to call up the hospital and ask about their return policy. Some days I envy full-time working, non-homeschooling mothers and idealize their adult-centric lives.
The grass isn’t always greener
But you know what? I did have a part-time job outside the home. I left my kids in another’s care and went to work every afternoon. And it was really not all that glamorous. I dreaded to leave my kids every. single. day. Some mornings I spent hours fighting with bad attitudes and felt like I needed an escape. Then came time for me to leave, and I was almost in tears over having to leave my babies. Every day.
What is it about these little people that makes me miss them so much? What is it that makes me have warm fuzzies and kiss the little messy-haired, blonde head of my two year old as he snuggles in my lap post-nap when I just spent the whole morning watching the clock until naptime because all he did was cry, cling, or get in to mischief ALL DAY LONG?
It’s love. I love these people. I love pouring myself out for them. I love watching them learn and grow. I love seeing the world through their eyes and hearing their funny ideas. I love being the one they want when they’re sad or hurt or happy or silly. I love being able to teach their little minds. I love being the one to train their hearts to love God and love others.
I love when my five year old randomly kisses me and says, “I love you, Mama.” I love when my eight year old tells me that we didn’t get enough snuggle time today and asks me to just hold her. I love when my two year old rubs my face and presses his nose against mine and just stares into my eyes for a while. I love when my seven year old leans on me on the couch or slips her hand into mine as we are walking. I love when my baby just lies in my arms and studies my face with a look of pure adoration.
Often I get caught up in the moments of bickering, “baditudes,” and tattling. In those moments I all-to-often respond impatiently, forgetting to guard the hearts of these impressionable and priceless little gifts with which God has given me.
The key to parenting with patience
And that’s what they are: gifts. As my kids have gotten older, it has gotten easier to remember what it was like for me at their ages. I remember my thoughts and the things that affected me. I remember the things that made me sad or how I felt when adults forgot to be careful with their words.
So much in this world is going to try to tear at my kids’ souls. Voices around them are going to try to imprint messages about their identity, their value, and their beauty. I want my voice in their memories to be the one speaking uplifting truths, to be the one that comforts, to be the one that they believe above the others.
Parenting is scary, and I want so much to do it well. But I can’t live in fear of my kids. I can’t be afraid to teach them the hard things. If I don’t teach them how to love and serve others, who will? If I don’t teach them to obey and respect authority, who will?
The key is loving patience. Patience with them and patience with myself (Dealing with mom-guilt? I do too! I wrote a whole post about it.) I need to keep my focus on what is best for them wholly rather than reacting to the chaos of the moment.
I also need to forgive myself when I don’t respond in exactly the best way when I’m running on 2 hours of sleep, have a baby who thinks he/she is made of velcro attached to my hip, and hear lots of other little voices loudly vying for my attention.
Love covers a multitude
I’m not perfect, and, honestly, it’s best that my kids know that. They need to see me fall to my knees and pray for help. They need to hear me admit my failures and ask their forgiveness. They need to know that my love for them is not based on their behavior and neither is God’s.
Parenting with patience is not parenting perfectly. Parenting with patience is loving your kids even in the moments when they are not the most lovable of creatures (I’ve got a post about that too! Parenting a difficult child). It is remembering to protect their growing little hearts and speak loving truth to them even when you don’t feel the warm-fuzzies at the moment.
Someone asked me one time what was like having four (now five!) kids. You know what I answered? Without even thinking, I said, “I love it!” Is it easy? Not at all. Is it difficult? Very. Is it worth it? Definitely.
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