I’m not always the perfect mom and that’s not just my mom guilt talking, I just think it’s impossible to ever truly be the perfect mom. If we were perfect we wouldn’t be human, learning. Sometimes I think I’ve been a far less perfect mom than at other times, though. The thing I’m most proud of in my parenting is my transparency. I let him know, often, that I’m just doing the best that I can and sometimes I’m wrong. I find myself apologizing often. I think it’s important to admit to our children just how much of a role they play in our learning.
If that last sentence puzzled you, if you don’t think it’s the most substantial role, I’m going to ask you to pause and evaluate how you approach your children, what beliefs you hold about them. The truth is, they are absolute treasures and I don’t think that’s hyperbolic by any means. They must be cherished. If you aren’t learning from your children you need to find what is inside of you that is blocking you from accepting that opportunity. It is imperative.
A Letter to My Hurting Son
My little love.
I see the way your tiny body takes on so much pain that isn’t yours to bear.
I hope you see, if not now then some day, that all of this time I’ve been fighting, for you.
I don’t want to see you have to take on these battles, and I know I stepped in a little late in the game but well get there, little love, I promise.
I ask you not to be a tiny, sometimes it annoys me, drives me nuts, the baby-talk. Maybe we need to work through it rather than silence it.
I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time.
I let a dad into your life that doesn’t know how to love you in an accepting manner. I find sometimes I struggle too. We’re all limited by what we’re currently experiencing and there have been times I let my emotions get the best of me.
I hope you know they weren’t yours to take on and I try to remind you of that as often as I can. Sometimes you get that tone with me, the one you only pull out when I’m grating on your nerves, when you think I’m being an overbearing mother.
My little love, is it possible to push acceptance too hard? Am I doing it?
Things always feel a little bit unnatural at first, our first few times doing them. That discomfort is really just the funny tingle of courage, don’t run from it.
I ran from the funny tingle of courage for a little while longer than I’d like to admit. What I mean is that it’s only sometimes that I speak loudly enough for my voice to be heard. I’m always working on it but sometimes silence gets the best of me.
My little love, I hope you always know that it’s okay to not always be the best at things or do them perfectly as long as you keep on trying and are honest about where you’re at.
I’ve seen fear in your eyes before, sometimes as a result of something I had done or say. I was never malicious or ill-intentioned. I was always trying to do what was best with the knowledge and experiences that I had at the time.
I can see now how many of those things hurt, left scars, I’m sorry. I promise I’m doing better every time I learn something new.
My little love, thank you for giving me patience and loving me in a way that’s let me heal myself and for never making me feel bad for not knowing better.
I don’t take the pain I’ve caused you lightly and I’m working to make it right. I hope you forgive me, let it go. You don’t need to carry around that hurt.
You are more loved, so much more loved, than you could possibly know.
I wonder if you’ll remember it as you grow older but sometimes you tell me that you picked me as a mom, when you were just a soul, before you were born, and that you picked the best one.
I never told you that I believe it’s how the universe works before you said that but I don’t think you know how much that means to me, how grateful I am for you. I don’t always do the best job of showing it but I’m working on doing better.
My little love, I’m still finding the balance of how to love you perfectly but I promise I won’t stop until I get there.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 