MOTHERHOOD: don't forget your Machete!

I wrote this a few months ago and decided to post it here on my blog in hopes that maybe someone else is out there feeling just like me who can benefit.


I feel small, like I could slip down the drain in the kitchen sink and nobody would notice. Then again, they would notice. They’d notice an absence of nagging, yelling, and emotional tornados from the house. Who is this person I have become? I start out the day trying to be the person I know I should be, but then something happens… and that other person comes out to handle the situation, and then another thing happens and she’s taking over. I step back and don’t even recognize my life. It’s not supposed to be this way. I was going to be the calm understanding mother of respectful children who handled every situation with grace and ease. Is that even possible? I don’t think so. Motherhood has taken me by surprise on this crazy day-by-day adventure.
Most days, I’m hacking through the jungle with a machete, hoping this free-style path that I’m creating will eventually end up back to where I am supposed to be. But where is that exactly? Does anyone know? It’s exhausting- the search, the spontaneity, the mere survival of it all. Just a few more really hard days like today, and I think we’ll either make it back to the main path of balance where mother and child and family work together in harmony… or it will break me and I’ll never get turned in the right direction. I will have fallen so hard that I’ll never be able to get back up again. I know, that’s very pessimistic of me. I’m just begging for some rescue heroes to plow through the deep green overgrowth of my life on a four-wheeler, pull me aboard and show me the way. I imagine myself getting on, tuckering in for a long journey back to sanity and the right path, which will most likely be three feet away. Just like me- to give up when I was so close. But what if they never come? What if things never change? Will I be stuck in the jungle forever with monkeys and wild animals who won’t listen to a thing I say? Maybe I’ll start making my own clothes from their hides…
It’s better at night. At night I can wash away the exhaustion of the day, and after a few minutes of quiet I almost seem to forget it altogether. Maybe that’s how I’m able to keep going. The rest and the time to myself, recharges me for another day of trudging through the unknown.
I never knew it would be like this. I think that is what bothers me the most. I feel so unprepared, so inadequate- which frustrates me to no end. No one told me I would need a machete, much less that I would be making up most of the rules…where the path is, when to eat, sleep, or dance uncontrollably. These were things that felt very structured when I was growing up, like the parents all had the same handbook. When the rules were broken they knew exactly how to handle it. And there was no adventuring in the jungle; we always walked on the trail of balance and perfect harmony. I’m not saying we were perfect children by any means, but my parents somehow knew how to earn our respect gracefully, seemingly without much effort. Maybe I’m wrong; maybe it took a great deal of effort, as it currently is for me. They may have been able to disguise it better than I can.
I just can’t help feeling remorse at the end of the day, like I could have done better. I could have hacked more of the path away, gotten us closer to where we are supposed to be. I could have used smoother movements, more graceful tones, been lighter on my feet. What I have realized is that I can’t change them or their reactions to me. I can only change myself. I can give them opportunities to choose good and that is all. I can’t make that decision for them. I never knew it would be so hard, that it would hurt so much. I guess my biggest fear is that I will fail as a mother, the one thing I really wanted to be great at. My mind wanders to places far in the distance, and I can’t help knowing that what I do now affects their future every bit as much as what I will do then. Is the defiance a stage that will pass, or will it only get worse? Will an unruly almost four-year old become an uncontrollable teenager? I don’t want to believe that’s true, but sometimes it keeps me up at night.
I know discipline is healthy, and completely necessary, I just don’t want to spend ALL day playing rule enforcer! Somehow at this age I can’t escape it. They are both learning constantly and that includes boundaries of all kinds. Lately, Elijah has been testing everything possible, and even laughing at some punishments. I left him in his room with these words to end the day after he had been told several times to go to bed, “I’m going to let you choose. If you want to be good, you can lie down and go to sleep on your pillow like I asked you to. You can also choose to be naughty which will earn you a day of no fun tomorrow. I’m going to leave now and let you decide.” This works much better than time outs or spankings for Elijah. He’s a very smart little boy and deeply wants to do the right thing, so I find by giving him the option he will usually choose it. I think he also doesn’t want me to be right for some reason, so leaving the room allows him to make the decision with his own conscience. I always try to tell him that I love him after he has been punished. It feels much better when I can do this and keep myself in control, then I know I’m not acting out of anger and frustration.
Are you too using your machete? Have you found the path of balance in your life or do you too feel as if you are in the middle of an overgrown jungle?