Last week, we went to an indoor water park. It has become a tradition of ours to go on a Christmas trip to the water park, or, as Levi calls it, the "park water". I find the dynamic of the water park amusing. The lifeguards are always teenagers who range from very bossy and conscientious to very laid back and permissive. They have ambiguous rules. For instance, the sign near the children's slide stated simultaneously: "Single riders ONLY" and "young toddlers MUST be accompanied by an adult". As my husband was trying to coax our one year old daughter down the slide, he decided to take her up and let her ride down on his lap. I told him this was a "no-no" according to the rules and suggested that he take her on the side-by-side slide, holding her hand. As usual, he decided to do what he wanted to do. As he got to the top, he sat down and put her in his lap. At just this moment, a teenaged girl who was in charge of that area walked by the slides. Her attention was drawn to this major rule infraction. She blew her whistle at my husband and yelled that he needed to put her down, and that she couldn't ride with him. I watched in amusement as the turmoil churned within my husband. I could see that letting her tell him what to do was truly a struggle. After all, he didn't let his 32 year old wife tell him what to do, now he was supposed to let this teenaged girl tell him? Knowing the eyes of all the children around were on him, he reluctantly set Violet on the slide in front of him giving her hand to me and letting me guide her down the slide. We didn't speak about it. :)
This year Levi was able to go up to the bigger kids section of the park. I followed him closely, and he felt "big" as he led mom around the park. We stayed under the sprinklers mostly until I asked if he wanted to go down a slide. He said he didn't want to, but I asked if he would watch me go down one. He agreed and followed me to the top of the slide. I went down the short, tube slide and out of his sight. When I stood up at the bottom, I turned to look up at him, and he wasn't there. I started to wonder where he had gone when I heard a splash behind me. I looked, and there he was. He had decided to go down after me. I was proud of him. It was an exciting milestone that turned into his leading us down the same slide a dozen more times. Then we decided to try the medium-sized tube slide. He led me down that several times, and then we graduated to the big slide. I followed him down that slide 50 times if I followed him down it once. My arms were aching from hoisting myself out of the basin at the end of the slide, but he was thrilled to lead me around and find new adventures together. When I finally needed a bathroom break, he told me he'd show me where the bathroom was. When he led me into the women's restroom, I asked if he had to go too, but he said, "No. I just went already. I'll wait for you right here." (I wondered if he meant he had gone in the park somewhere or if he was referring to when he had gone when we had first arrived.) He stood outside my stall for my return, and he directed me to the sinks for hand washing. I found, during this outing, an interesting thing about Levi: the more I let him lead me, the more mature he acted. There was nary a tantrum or a lost temper or a disrespectful word. He blossomed under the weight of my trust in his capability to lead me. He rose to meet the challenge and then some.
A few minutes ago, here at home, Levi hollered from the bathroom, "Mom! Can you help me? I need more paper toilet!" I got him a roll of toilet paper, and helped him clean himself up. As I did, he said, "That's my girl. I'm proud of you." After I was done, he said, "I need to wash my hands." He stood atop the bathroom stool observing his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He said (half to himself and half to me), "I'm a big boy. I don't hit people. I don't say 'shut up', and I don't point at people - like this..." (as he proceeded to point at me about three, different ways). He said, "I obey my parents, because that's a good idea." I agreed emphatically with him - enjoying the self-involvement of a three-year-old.
Learning how to fall into my role as a mother hasn't always been easy. Fighting my selfish instincts is a daily task. However, learning how to mother my son has been more difficult than learning to mother the girls. I feel that I usually understand the feelings and motives of my daughters, but boys don't work the same way. Babycenter.com has sent me e-mails updates once/week for each of my children since they were in-utero - a "your baby this week" email, telling me what to expect of my fetus, infant, or toddler that week. It never ceases to amaze me that most of the time they have it right, down to the week, what the baby/toddler will be doing. In that way, most of my children have mostly followed what is apparently an accepted, "normal" pattern. In another way, they don't fit a pattern at all. Each individual is so unique - their personalities and quirks so completely distinct from one another - but it's my task to be consistent with each one... loving them the same, treating them the same, handling each situation that comes my way -whether they are reading quietly or climbing the walls - with consistency and fairness, no matter my own mood or feelings.
A few weeks ago, the girls had Matthew 11:28 as their memory verse. I have them write the verse out and tell them they can illustrate it if they want. As you see below, Sadie illustrated her verse the following way:
The illustration shows "mom" saying the words, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened; and I will give you rest," but, in the Bible passage, Jesus is the One who says those words. When I asked Sadie if she knew that, she said she did, but that she thought the best way to illustrate it was with a mom saying it to her family. (What look like pets in the picture are actually crawling babies.) The dad is yawning and hanging up his coat. Looking at this drawing was a defining moment for me in some ways. It showed me what she thought a mom's role should be... giving rest to her family - being a "soft place to fall".
Author John Eldredge states in his book Wild At Heart that he believes that men and women both display unique attributes of God and that one of the attributes of God that women display is nurturing. In Psalm 91:3-5, the Psalmist writes about God giving us refuge "under His wings" and covering us "with His feathers". In Matthew 23:37 and Luke 13:34, Jesus says of Jerusalem, "how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing." These passages say to me that Sadie's portrayal of Jesus's words in Matthew 11:28 are not all that far from God's feelings for us - that He longs to show us His tenderness - if we are only willing. He will no more force us to be receptive to His affection for us than we can force our children to accept our love. However, not unlike our children, sometimes our circumstances force us into a place where we are more willing to accept the loving kindness of God. Violet, for instance, is fiercely independent. However, a tumble off a chair or the presence of a stranger will usually propel her into my arms. Likewise, our own difficulties might be an opportunity to turn to safety in the arms of the One who promises "I will give you rest".
