The truth of motherhood, back and forth, give and take.
I’m a bit slow on the uptake these days, that and I have a few decades of practice of ignoring the obvious and uncomfortable truths.
My eldest child is all of five. That’s over five years of caring for, teaching, playing, stressing, disciplining, celebrating and, most importantly, getting to know my son. Five years is such a short time for eternity to happen.
He’s lately started new behaviors that I’d dearly love to blame someone else for. He’s pushing each boundary, each rule, testing the limits of patience and seeing if there’s a limit to love. I did mention he’s five, right?
This is a new experience for me, witnessing this transformation from a sweet, obedient child into a headstrong and belligerent rule tester. In other words, the child I would have been if my parents hadn’t ruled with fear and pain.
Alex and I are finding our way. How to talk, how to listen, how to give what’s necessary without losing yourself. My husband is being similarly tested, but he likes to point out that he’s had over 20 years of experience dealing with this particular personality.
My true fear is losing my child. Losing him by not giving him the space to grow, pushing him to grow too fast, not paying close enough attention to his emotional needs that he’s unable to express.
Motherhood is a slow release of a unique being that you held in your body, in your heart, in your hopes, long before you were given the chance to know the person that holds a piece of your heart.
An eternity of saying goodbye and hello. Not enough time for the wonders of a child.
