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Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Life outside the bubble

I can't always be there for my kids. As much as I'd like to, there will inevitably be times when I cannot defend, protect or comfort them. I guess I've been largely ignoring this truth (as most parents surely do) since, for the most part, I have so far been able to always be there for Abby.

But our little girl is growing up and experiencing life in some "big kid" ways that are outside of the great mommy bubble of protection I like to pretend she lives in sometimes. It's quite a little dance I do, this mom thing. Sometimes I pull her in close, protecting her from too much, too soon (walking by herself through a parking lot, for instance) and other times I have to push her away so she (and I) can learn what she's capable of (like going down the big slide at the park).

Sometimes I wonder if I push her too far. The disapproving glances from the more, shall we say, "hands on" moms at the park when I let my kid climb the equipment (by herself!) and go down the slide (by herself!) can cloud my confident parenting and allow room for doubt to slip in. Thankfully, I come home to a husband who reminds me that I am neither careless with nor ignorant of our daughter and her abilities to handle herself in certain situations, and that I'm currently the leading expert on all things Abby, by virtue of the fact that I'm with her all the time.

So if I decide, as I have, that during my time at Bible study my 13-month-old daughter should be eating crackers and marching around the room with the 18-24 month old class instead of rolling on the floor and playing with light-up toys in the 12-18 month old class, I appreciate the teachers who take a chance and welcome her into their classroom. So far they tell me she's done great, with the exception of a few attempts to eat her crayons. But I realize that she will face challenges as the youngest kid in the room that she would not face if she was with the younger kids.

Witness this morning, when a 22-month-old barreled past her and took the beach ball out Abby's hands, all the while yelling, "My ball! My ball!" Abby stood idly by, caught off guard at first by the boisterous nature of this slightly larger child, and then toddled around until she found another toy to play with, perfectly content with having been robbed of her ball.

"Wait just a minute," the angry mom inside of me yelled to herself. "That's not fair! My daughter was playing with that toy, and that other kid just took it from her! Something must be done to reconcile this situation! Someone must step in and stand up for my child! She can't defend herself yet!"

Thankfully, all this yelling was only going on in my head, so no one else was privy to the indignation I felt at seeing my daughter so willfully taken advantage of. The robbery long forgotten, Abby was now happily playing in the plastic kitchen set. So I turned to leave, and that's when it hit me: I can't always be there for my kids. So if I want her to stand up for herself, I have to teach her that. If I want her to not be the kid screaming "My ball! My ball!" then I have to teach her about fairness and sharing and the fine art of turn-taking. I will not always be there to defend, protect or comfort her. More importantly, I will not always be there to guide and instruct her as she makes her own decisions about the world and how she'll deal with the people in it. And here's the scary part: even if I could, I'd do an imperfect job at best.

So what's a mom to do? Take comfort in the only place I can, and release my daughter into the world knowing she has someone far more capable than me looking after her, someone who loves her infinitely more than I ever could, someone who not only wants the best for her, but is wonderfully able to provide it.

In Isaiah 49:15, God offers the assurance I needed this morning: "Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you." God will not forget my children, just as He has not forgotten me. They are safe in His care, even when I'm absent, and even when I'm present but failing. Their happiness, their success, their futures do not depend on me and my parenting skills. What peace I can have as a mom when I let this truth sink in!

This year in her class, Abby is learning about who God is. The curriculum includes a verse, set to music, that the kids hear and sing and will commit to memory this year. (I realize that Abby's limited vocabulary and short attention span will somewhat impede her learning...but she's still there, every week, soaking it in. And I like that a lot.) In the midst of my distress over realizing that I can't always be there for my children, it was just the reminder I needed this morning when I returned to her room and heard a chorus of kids and teachers singing, "I am with you always" (Matthew 28:20).

God's got my kids all taken care of. That takes a lot of stress out of this whole parenting thing.

1 comment:

  1. I still feel this way about my kiddos ALL the time. I am constantly reminding myself that the decisions I make to hold on tightly and let go loosely are John and my decisions alone--no one else's...

    And, by the way, I am a let them climb the play structures by themselves as well, and yes, I get a lot of looks and comments.

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