Are you the mom you thought you’d be?
I’m not. I thought I would have 4 kids in 6 years. They would all wear matching outfits. I was going to have fresh cookies made when they got home from school.
I would make homemade Christmas cards, birthday invitations and thank you notes. My children would have classic birthday parties with creative gift bags. I would sew my girls matching clothes.
I wanted to be part of the Junior League and a local country club. I imagined being the kid’s room parent and coordinating teacher gifts.
I was going to supplement my kid’s education with personal tutoring and checklists.
What? What did you think your parenting days would be like? Really. I guess my first clue should have been the four years it took to GET the children. I figured once we overcame the infertility issues, the rest of the dream would play out.
Reality bites. I am half way through my active parenting years. Lizzie and Job are 9 and 10 ½. In ten years (God willing) they will both be in college. Very few of those “parenting dreams” have been our reality.
I work. I have always worked and denied it, but I do work for pay. Kids are expensive, and mine are over the top. Instead of boutique matching outfits, my kids have matching four digit bills from specialized treatment facilities. In place of club memberships are tuition bills.
I may not be the mother I thought I would be, but I am definitely the mother God created to be. I mean I would have never thought I would be a writer and talk to other mothers across the country about organization and alternative medicine. But I do. And I love it!
Our world is changing so fast. I have spent the past year really wrestling through not what I expect or what is perceived of parenting, but what lasts. Here is what I know and want now…
I want children who are healthy. I always took that one for granted as an assumed gift. It’s not.
I want children who can process through world events and discern true motives.
I want my children to be active in the political landscape of America.
I want my children to know history so we don’t have to repeat it.
I want my children to grow up and live in a FREE country.
I want my children to be able to make friends and know how to be a great one.
I want my children to follow their dreams – no matter what they are. Their gifts are so different from mine. I want to help them find them and hone them and be happy.
I want to travel with my kids to Washington DC and Williamsburg and spend a week at Disney World.
I want to make the kids books of the things they have said about God and what they have heard Him say to them.
I want to see my kids get married, and have children. I want to see my grandkids every week.
I want to eat Lizzie’s concoctions once she starts cooking.
I guess I’m not the mom I thought I would be because – that was all about ME. I am the mom my kids need so they can be all they want to be and it’s all about THEM. How about you?
Lovely!
Interesting thread, Lisa.
I really haven’t spent a lot of time evaluating whether motherhood has met my expectations. I am not the type of person to bother about such things. However, introspection is good for the soul and I find this topic worthwhile.
If you will indulge me, my answer is best described by how we passed the time as a family on winter nights. As you well know, winter evenings in Ohio are blustery cold and are best spent indoors by a warm fire. My brothers and I usually played card or board games. One game night my mother decided that we should try making fudge. Not the ‘easy’ fudge made with marshmallow cream but the fussy kind that requires constant attention and a candy thermometer.
We took turns measuring, stirring, and dropping spoonfuls into ice water to test whether it was at ‘hard ball’ or ‘soft ball’ stage. Lots of spoons were dipped into to the pot to have a little taste. Honestly, I do not remember what that first pan of fudge was like but it began a tradition that spanned a number of winter nights.
Some of the time, the fudge turned out just as it should, silky smooth, rich and delicious. A LOT of the time, the fudge was a total flop. Either it hardened into a solid dark rock or it did not set up at all and remained a gelatinous liquid. If it was too tough, we got out the steak knives, sawed off whatever we could and sucked on it as if it were hard candy. The liquid fudge was warmed back up and ladled over ice cream. Sometimes, it was so bad we threw it away. The final product was irrelevant.
The real treasure was the anticipation, the adventure, and the camaraderie.
Many things about motherhood have not turned out the way I expected. My children are nothing like what I thought they would be. Parenting has turned out to be much harder than it looked when my parents were raising us. No matter, like the fudge, I have savored and exulted in whatever God has dealt me. The purpose is not the milestones, the planned moments, or even what my children will someday become. It is the journey we spend together.
As for my parenting agenda: my children will become the people they choose to be. Their options will be dictated by their gifts, limitations, and God’s grace. My role as a parent is to provide a safe haven and the life skills they will require as adults. Oh yes, my husband and I will do our best to teach them our values. In the end, my children must decide what lessons to keep and what to discard.