Steady

This blog has served me well, as a therapeutic tool, to talk through my thoughts and get them all out on paper.

I've been re-listening to the conference addresses given, and sort of revamping my goals--maybe, more or less, evaluating and taking inventory of what's working and what's not working. In conjunction with that, I have had many thoughts about mothering my three boys.

It's no secret that I struggle on and off with my boys' behavior. Typically, only one acts out at a time, but usually on a regular basis, this is the occurrence in our home. This post is not to vent.

Rather, I have sort of seen a new perspective recently. Often times, after I get upset with my kids, or something scares them, or someone hurts them in some way, I am able to put myself in their shoes--even if only for a split second. In that split second, I am three feet tall. I feel the pain of someone taking my toy or the girls on the bus making fun of me. I feel afraid of the dark or restless because I don't want to take a nap. I am staring up at these grown ups and I feel really loved or I feel really intimidated as that little person.

Then, when the roles reverse and I come back to myself, this usually makes me feel happy because I handled a situation well, guilty and repentant for messing up, or I receive inspiration and direction for where I need to go and what I need to do (when I am thoughtful before acting).

Last night at relief society, we played a q and a game. One of the questions was, "If you were someone else, would you want to get to know yourself (who you are now)?" I thought about that a lot. My mind perused several memories from the past. Some came from my visiting a grocery store years ago and observing what appeared to be this really "mean" mom then. She was upset with her little boy and therefore, talked down to him pretty abruptly. At that time, I told myself, "I will never be that mom." Fast forward to last year in Macey's during the no-tax weekend here in Texas. We browsed the handbag section, as well as various counters in the department store (Just what every little boy loves to do--be caught inside during a sunny day and not just inside--the mall.). At one point, David started yelling about something and then, started pushing the stroller that Ethan sat in.

I still remember this: "Hey! That is my baby. What do you think you are doing, David?! . . . " Very vividly, I can still see the stares of the mothers and daughters nearby. In the heat of the moment, just as that mother did years ago in the grocery store, I acted before thinking and spoke unkindly and quite abruptly to my child. I became the worst version of myself in a matter of seconds and demeaned my own son.

That's a pretty honest thing to say, but it's true. And this isn't a self-pitty, wo-is-me post either. More, I just wanted to touch on the fact that I have definitely had those moments where I wouldn't want to know me.

And that's when I started thinking back to new year's resolutions and what my word for the year is. In conjunction with the conference talks about children and what they are entitled to, one of those things is the quality/characteristic of steadiness/steadfast-ness and constancy.

Every child deserves to be able to enter his home and know that on the other side of the door is a loving parent, waiting for him and allowing him to be himself entirely. He shouldn't have to walk on egg shells around his parent, not knowing what reaction he will get one day versus something else another day. He should know that his mom or dad will love him no matter what, that they may reprove at times with sharpness, but then show forth an increase of love.

If I can do anything for my children, I want to be constant and steady. This is my new goal for the year.