by BooParry | May 4, 2016 | #MomLife, Key, Parenting, Series
It came out of nowhere. As it usually does. After eight years of this, you’d think we wouldn’t be so shocked or be at our wits’ end. But as she grows older, these “episodes” have become few and far between, so when she does have one, it has a way of catching us off guard.
Most of you have heard us describe her as “strong-willed.” It’s been who she is since Day 1. There really is no simple way to describe it. Except that it’s not normal. Our second-born daughter can get pretty dramatic when she’s upset. But our oldest…she brings in this level of determination that is just not normal for a child. Somehow, during these episodes, she can usually manage to get our emotions and nerves all worked up and keep us engaged in her battle way longer than we need to be.
All of these battles have helped us to grow along with her. Through the countless episodes we have experienced with her in the last eight years, we have discovered that there are two main ingredients that work in parenting a strong-willed child (or any child for that matter): consistency and prayer.
Here’s how it went down tonight.
She normally asks to get a drink of water before bed. We usually say yes. This particular night, she had gotten a drink of water in between the time I had said good-night to her and she was waiting for Allan to come in to say good-night. After she finished her routine with Allan, she asked to go get another drink of water. He said no, because she already had a drink. That was it. After a good day (or even good few months of no major episodes), in a simple matter over a sip of water, she decided to put up her battle sign. This was the hill she was going to die on. And folks, I don’t think I’m exaggerating much when I say that she really is prepared to win or die in these battles.
After Allan gave his answer, he closed her bedroom door.
The pounding started. The kicking and banging started. They kept going on. And on. And on. And on.
After about 20 minutes, I went in. I calmly told her this behavior was not acceptable. I reminded her of the privileges she will lose if she continues in this behavior. In these situations, I quickly need to choose what I can take away that would motivate her enough to end the battle. During her preschool years, it was a privilege to social outings, such as playdates, birthday parties, and Mimi’s house. In recent years it’s been a privilege to socialize with anyone, meaning she had to spend a lot of time in her room by herself. This time, something else came to my mind quickly. She had never been one to be addicted to electronics, until this past week. She has been obsessed over a game called Minecraft in her new Kindle. She’s been constantly asking for permission to play the game. I told her that she will lose the privilege of her electronics if she continues to throw these fits. However, I made the mistake of not making it “clear cut” enough for her before I left the room. How much was considered a fit? How much longer did I mean when I said, “If you continue to throw a fit”? You’d think I’d be experienced enough by now to make such amateur mistakes!
She stopped the pounding and the kicking. She began the “yelling under the door crack” method. “YOU ARE MEAN!! MOMMY, YOU ARE SO MEAN!” “MOMMY, WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN TO MEEEEEE!?????” All the while, I can hear her baby brother babbling in his room next door (I mean, I wonder what’s keeping him up?).
Allan decided to give it a shot. He tried the “Let’s try to reason with her and help to calm her down” option. This method had worked about a handful of times out of the billion battles we’ve experienced with her. So…the odds were against him, but he gave it his best shot. “Peanut, can you tell me why you are being so upset over a sip of water?” “I’m thirsty! I need a drink of water!” “Peanut, you are going to be okay. You can have some water tomorrow morning.” “You always say tomorrow!” “No, I usually let you go get a drink of water. Don’t I usually let you get a drink of water? Just tonight, you had already gotten a sip two minutes before you asked. So the answer was no. You HAVE to be OK with that answer.” “But I’m thirsty! I’m thirsty! I’m thirsty!” “Peanut, let’s have self-control. Come on, you can do it. Let’s show self-control.” “I can’t! I’m thirsty! I can’t!!” “Peanut, you know what happens when you keep throwing fits. You lose privileges.” “NO! I don’t want to lose privileges! And I want a drink of water, because I’m thirsty!” She’s shouting as she’s wailing and flopping her body all over the place at the same time. It’s quite a sight to watch an 8-year-old throw a tantrum.
There were moments in there when she seemed to calm down a bit…only to begin another round. So after few repeats of the above conversation, Allan said good-night and walked out. At this point I knew that she was just wanting to keep either of us engaged. Because in her mind, if we were still engaged, then the battle was not over yet.
What baffles me every time is this: in all of eight years we’ve had with her, we have NEVER – not even once – EVER given in to her demand after she has thrown a fit like this. Never. Yet she still chooses to give everything she’s got to try to win the battle. She is a true warrior.
After Allan left the room, she started screaming LOUDER under the door crack. “DADDDYYY!! DAAAAADDDDDYYYY!!!” This is her desperation cry to keep us engaged in the battle. “The room is dark and I need someone in here!” (I knew she was desperate, because she started to shout out anything she could think of, that had nothing to do with the topic at hand). “I’m trying but I CAN’T (she means having self-control).” “I need help!!! I NEED HELP, DAAAAADDDDDYYY!!!!”
It was late, the house was quiet apart from her screaming voice, the other kids were trying to sleep…and this was about the time when Allan and I started questioning our own sanity. Did we go wrong somewhere? Is there something seriously wrong with our child?
Then I remembered to pray. I often get so caught up in the heat of the moment (I know I can’t blame it all on her, but she really has a way of messing with your emotions) that I forget the most important thing. My lifeline. Because without Him, I can promise you that we wouldn’t have made it for eight years. One of us would have lost our sanity by now. We certainly wouldn’t have been able to experience the kind of peace we have in our home for the majority of the time.
I sent out a quick popcorn prayer: “God, I need YOUR wisdom.”
I walked into her room as she was shouting, “I NEED HEEEELLLPPP!!!!” I calmly but firmly told her, “I’m here to help you, and this is how I’m helping you. You lost two days of electronics so far because of the way you behaved.” She began to blow up – this has always been her method – whenever I tell her what she’d lost, she counterattacks by repeating “I don’t want to lose (whatever I just said, in this case 2 days)! I don’t want to lose ____ !!” But before she had a chance to get too out of control, I grabbed her by both arms, looked at her in the eyes and said, “Peanut, it’s already done. Now, you can lose FOUR days if I have to come in here again because you are shouting, banging, or making any kind of loud noise. It’s up to you. But you WILL lose 4 days if I need to come back in. Do you understand me?” She said yes through her fits. I spelled it out clearly for her this time. She knew exactly what she would be losing and she knew exactly what behavior would cause her to lose it. She still threw herself around saying she didn’t want to lose (the first) 2 days, etc. But I kept talking over her cries. “Peanut, I’m going to help you into bed now. I’m going to pray for you.” As she continued to wail, I began to pray for God to fill her with His PEACE. I prayed for her to feel His presence and love. I prayed that He would help her to gain self-control and that she would trust Him to do so. I prayed in the powerful name of Jesus.
She was still wailing as I was leaving the room, so I made the condition very clear to her again. I made sure to get a response from her that she understood me. Then I closed the door. She cried out for a few more seconds. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. COMPLETELY stopped. She had finally surrendered.
I came downstairs. Of course, the first question Allan asked was, “How did you get her to stop??”
Consistency and Prayer.
When she chooses a battle, she WILL keep fighting, with ALL that she’s got. That’s who she is. She will not stop…until she finally determines that the consequences of continuing to fight sting her more deeply than letting go of her will to win. We have to remember to SPELL out the boundaries and consequences as CLEARLY as possible. We then have to be consistent. One of the biggest rewards that came out of all the battles during her early years was this: She 100% believes us now, every time, when we spell out the consequences that will take place. What we say WILL happen if the line is crossed. We’ve had to consistently set firm boundaries for her and help her understand that she will not win this kind of battle, in this way.
I also believe with my whole heart, that divine intervention is always necessary for her to finally calm down and put up her white flag of surrender. When she’s right in the middle of a heated battle, there were many times it seemed as though nothing would work to calm her down. It felt like that tonight. Allan and I were both exhausted. Then two simple prayers – both my popcorn prayer asking for wisdom and praying over her for peace as she wailed – helped to bring an end to this battle. Thank you, God!!
2 Afterthoughts:
- I checked on her a little while later that night. She was still awake but was lying on the floor with her pillow, blanket, and stuffed animals. I knew that she was trying to make some sort of a point, but I let it go as the battle was never about “staying in bed.” I told her that I was proud of her for gaining self-control. I told her that I loved her and always will, no matter what. About an hour later, Allan went in and carried her sleeping body to her bed. In the morning, we saw that she had gotten out of bed again and slept on the floor. This girl!
- As it usually happens on the day after a battle, she was coming over to both Allan and me frequently the next morning, hugging us and using her sweet voice to say, “Daddddy! Mommmy!!!” We know that this is her way of making restoration.
Oh, Peanut, it has been an adventure since Day 1 and it continues to be. You keep us on our toes. One thing I look forward to the most: seeing what incredible plans God has in store for you as a strong-willed adult, a force to be reckoned with. Watch out, world!
by BooParry | Oct 15, 2012 | #MomLife, Key, Parenting, Series
Around 15 months of age, Peanut had mastered the not-so-beautiful art of whining. We knew her to have more of a “difficult” temperament by this time, but we still had not learned to fully engage in some of these issues as parents of a strong-willed child. When she turned two and we were still dealing with her dramatic tantrums and whining, we knew that we had to do something drastic about them. This time, I was determined to be more consistent and tackle these issues whole-heartedly, instead of half-heartedly. Our child must learn to obey our authority. She does not have the freedom to “run the show” in our family.
My mentor advised that the key factor in her learning to obey was developing her self-control. Some people laughed at me. Teaching a two-year-old how to have self-control? Good luck. I, however, had complete confidence that it can be done. I knew I couldn’t expect her to have the same level of self-control as an adult, but as a two-year-old, she can learn to not throw an angry fit over the smallest things.
Up to this point, when she would whine or throw a fit, I would put her in the crib. Well, remember I told you that she’s strong-willed. When I put her in the crib, she would just keep screaming or crying. When I felt that she had “calmed down enough,” I would go in and get her. We repeated this cycle more often than I care to count. I then realized – she was still making some sort of noises (to express her discontent) when I came in the room to pick her up. In her mind, she was winning every time.
One day, I decided that I was not going back to get her until she had calmed down and was actually quiet. I explained this to her. I began to use the words “self-control” as part of our regular vocabulary. The first time I put her in the crib for whining after making that decision, she cried for…well, for the purpose of this public blog, let’s just say for a very, very long time (if you want to know just how strong-willed she is, call me, and I will tell you how long it actually was). To our relief though, it was the only time she cried for that long.
That day, as I sat outside her bedroom hearing her cry, this was what I wrote on her journal:
While you were in there crying, I kept praying. Dad came home and we prayed together. We prayed for God to guide us with His wisdom and discernment. I also placed my hands on your bedroom door and prayed for you, that you will be able to learn the skill of self-control. At one point, you started crying out to me: “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” My heart broke into a thousand pieces. Having to discipline you breaks my heart and brings me to tears, but I am absolutely committed to helping you develop godly character and values. I want to do the “right” thing for you, rather than the “easy” thing. I desire for you to produce good fruit in your life, and be all that God created you to be.
Whew. So what happened after this long, drawn-out crying/screaming session? When her screams finally turned into whimpers of surrender, I went in and praised her like crazy. She was so happy for rest of the night. It was like a different type of countenance took over her face – total freedom and relief. It was as if she realized (the hard way) how much burden had been lifted off of her…when she finally learned to let go.
Whining did not disappear after that one night, but it significantly decreased. Next time we put her in the crib, the duration of her crying and screaming was a lot less. Within weeks (maybe days), as a two-year-old, she fully understood the meaning of the term “self-control” (and even used it on her baby sister when she was screaming).
That was almost three years ago. The road of raising her has not been easy. In fact, it’s been extremely, almost indescribably challenging. But it’s been so worth it. She still loses her temper at times, but most of the time, we’re able to help calm herself down simply by saying, “Peanut, show us self-control.” She stops. She’s calm. This may not seem like a big deal to some, but it’s HUGE for me as a parent of a child who has shown more persistence and aggression than I’ve experienced from anyone I’ve met.
I believe the main foundation I’ve been able to establish with her in the last five years is TRUST.
TRUST that I, as her mom, will not allow her to have her way, no matter how persistent she is. Deep inside, I believe strong-willed children are desperately looking to their authority figures to take on that challenge from them and provide security with love and discipline.
TRUST that my words come with weight. When mom says something, she means it. She can trust that I will follow through.
TRUST that I have her best interest at heart. When things are calm, I take every opportunity to let her know why I need her to obey and the benefits it will bring to her life.
TRUST that I love her, always, no matter what. After every discipline, I try to remember to squeeze her tight, tell her how much I love her, tell her she’s forgiven, and tell her how much I believe in her. I let her know: God has big, great plans for you! You are meant to be a leader.
I know that we’re still building on this foundation. But I see the fruit of it already. Just yesterday, she was sent to her room, and she began banging on the wall. I just opened the door once, and told her calmly, “Peanut, you will stay in your room longer, the more you bang against that wall.” Banging stopped. Why? Because she believes me, 100%, that she will stay in that room longer the more she bangs on that wall. With a strong-willed child, it takes a lot longer to build that trust. They just want to keep testing, and testing, and testing…hanging on to a tiny chance that this time, maybe she’ll give in? But as I mentioned earlier, they have love-hate battles within themselves. They want to win, but they don’t. They know they should not really be in control at this age. Yet they can’t help themselves from testing authority. My husband and I are determined to be that strong pillar for her, just as God is the strong pillar for us.
To the parents of strong-willed children: I share your pain, I feel your turmoil. It’s not easy…not even in the least. It’s a very special calling, and God has chosen you, not anyone else, but YOU to take on this huge task. My prayers are with you. I know that in less than two decades, we will see some powerful world-changers for God emerge out of our homes. Until then, let’s keep diving in, whole-heartedly.
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by BooParry | Jun 24, 2012 | Parenting
I had a very candid conversation with my husband yesterday about Peanut. At one point, I remember telling him this: “Peanut is just so difficult. I love her, of course, but sometimes I don’t like her.”
It’s the truth. Before any of my mom readers throws stones at me, I guess the more appropriate way to say this is, sometimes I don’t like being her mother. We are a mismatch – Peanut and I. If I were to imagine the most inharmonious mother-daughter combination, it would be us. Here are some reasons why.
I am a perfectionist. I tend to demand perfection from myself, as well as those who represent who I am (i.e. my husband and my children). Obviously, there goes problem #1. I did not give birth to a perfect child. I guess that only happens once in the course of history, and Mary beat me to it.
I am a conformist. I like receiving instructions and following rules. It’s part of the culture I grew up in. I like to blend in. I like to stay inside the lines. I don’t like to stir the water. Peanut is the most out-of-the-box kind of person that I know. She is unique in every way. It’s easy to see that her life is meant to stand out. If there is a line, she will cross it completely and blatantly, or at least she’ll see how far she can go. She wants to set her own rules.
She constantly does or says things that make me wonder, “Why?” Why does she have to do that? Why does she have to touch that? Why? WHY? Some are out of defiance; others are out of pure childishness. Either way, she tests my patience.
I try to avoid confrontation at all cost. She thrives in confrontation, and she has to have the last word.
Me: Peanut, don’t pick at your scab. It’s going to keep hurting if you do that.
Peanut: But it doesn’t hurt.
Me: Peanut, be gentle with your toys, so you don’t break them.
Peanut: But they didn’t break.
Of course, I deal with her on the fact that she’s talking back to me, but it doesn’t change how frustrating and exhausting I get in midst of it.
I tend to be a people-pleaser. Pleasing others (especially me) does not seem to be on her priority list. She is who she is, with a unique sense of humor. She was playing around at the dinner table, so I told her to use good manners. She then started making funny noises and asked, “Mommy, is this good manners?” I told her no. She then began doing something else inappropriate and asked, “Mommy, is this good manners?” Blood is boiling at this point, and all I can do is to keep calm. How is it that one of her best talents is knowing how to push my buttons?
She and I are alike in some ways too…but they also contribute to how mismatched we are. We both like control. I want control so that I can meet my idealistic expectations, and she wants control….well, because that’s just part of who she is. She is a natural leader. We are both smart. I am not trying to brag, and honestly, my intelligence is quickly fading the more children I have. We both notice every little detail, and because she’s already smarter than I am, she tends to be right most of the time. This drives me insane. We find ourselves in frequent power struggles.
I was feeling hopeless and discouraged. I envied other moms who seemed to “have it easy.” As I talked about these feelings to my husband, I also expressed how guilty I felt for feeling the way I did…and for saying the things I did about her.
We decided to take a break from our serious talk and watch a movie. It was called Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. This movie was not what I expected, and I still don’t know how I feel about it. In some ways though, I was able to relate to the relationship the mother had with her son (the main character). First of all, it reminded me that we don’t have it that bad. Things could be a lot more challenging. Second of all, even though their relationship seemed to be a misfit, when they tried they were able to find a harmony. The mother was able to see that she can understand her son like her deceased husband did, and the son was able to see that he can express his love to her, even if he didn’t think he was that good at it. There was something beautiful about their mismatched relationship. It hit me right then. If God gave me a choice, I would not choose any other way. There is nothing in the world I wouldn’t give to be chosen as her mother again. Absolutely nothing. She is unique, and she is different. I don’t like different. She’s not easy. I like easy. But above all, she is mine. My one and only Peanut. I learn and grow because of her everyday. She dares me to be a better mother. I may have stayed as the same person if it wasn’t for God bringing her into my life.
I used to sing this song to her all the time when she was a baby, and today I sang this to her again:
You are my Peanut, my only Peanut
You make me happy, when skies are grey
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my Peanut away
She was grinning from ear to ear the whole time. You know who I think is smarter than both her and me – God. He is so smart, to know how much we would learn from each other. How much we would grow together. He knew from the beginning that we’d be a perfect mismatch.
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by BooParry | Apr 14, 2012 | Key, Parenting
My day with Peanut falls under one of the following three types:
Battle Day: ‘Nuff said.
Peace Day: These are days when everything opposite of Battle Day happens. She’s cooperative, doesn’t interfere with my plans, and keeps herself busy if I need her to. These are the days I dare to whisper (as I knock on wood), “She is so easy.”
In reality, most days are somewhere in between. I call this Finding Neutral Ground Day. It’s when she’s not in a full battle mode, but she constantly tries to test her limits. She loves to see how far she can go. She also loves to push buttons to see how I will react. She loves to pull me into a power struggle. It’s a challenge for me to resist being pulled into one and to keep enforcing boundaries and consequences with calmness. Another challenge is to let go of my idealistic expectation (of wanting it to be a Peace Day) and find a neutral ground instead.
I just experienced this type of day today, so allow me to describe it to give you a better picture.
Every morning, she wants to know the day’s agenda. Today’s agenda was a bit more complex than usual. I explained to her, “We’ll drop off LittleBit at Mimi’s house, because Mimi is taking her to a birthday party. You and I will hang out, then later Mimi will take you to Japanese school.”
I knew that she understood the agenda the first time around, but lately she developed a habit of asking me repeating questions.
“Mommy, may I go to Mimi’s house with LittleBit?”
“Mommy, may I go to Japanese school with Mimi?”
“Mommy, what are we doing today?”
She will bring up one question at a time periodically, until I lay down the law to let her know she must stop. “I’ve already answered that question for you. You know what you’re doing today. Do not ask again.”
Once the “I’ll Ask Mommy Questions I Know the Answers To” round was done, next came the never-ending “Potty Power Struggle” round. Potty-training a strong-willed child is a topic I will write about in detail later (by the way, I did it all wrong). For now, I will briefly mention how it’s been a constant power struggle ever since. Bottom line, she does not like to be told when to go. She would rather wait until the very last second, until she has to go so badly that she can hardly take off her pants by herself. This is a battle I try not to choose. However, there are times (like today) when I’m getting ready to put them in the van and she’s doing the pee-pee dance and I need her to go. She then tries to put up a bit of a fight, and I use my stern voice to say she must go. Next she tries the “passive-aggressive” angle and heads to the bathroom only to sit on the floor. Sometimes it’s not about going potty. Sometimes it’s about washing the hands. She hates being told what to do or when to do it. She first tries to object openly and when that doesn’t fly, she tries to passively delay because she knows I want her to do it quickly. It drives me absolutely up the wall. Still, I try my best to keep my calm and administer the consequence if I need to, when she does not obey immediately and/or completely.
After the potty round, we finally went out. I dropped off LittleBit, and I decided that I want to spend some quality time with Peanut. I told her that we’d go to lunch after we run some errands. At the bank, she did not stand still next to me for a second. I was constantly telling her not to touch things or crawl on the floor. We came out of the bank, then came the “I’ll Take My Time Getting into My Car Seat” round. Again, she knew that’s what I wanted her to do, so she subtly pretended that other things in the van were keeping her attention. I then took a privilege away from her of something she wanted. She quickly gave up that power struggle.
Lunch went really well after this. The way she stood in line with me to order food was a major improvement from the bank. We enjoyed our lunch together and headed home. When we arrived home, before she gave up the power struggles altogether, she had to go for one more round of “Potty Power Struggle” as she demonstrated another pee-pee dance on our way back into the house.
I just described half of my day with Peanut. No major outburst, but throwing out a minor power struggle here and there to see how I will bite, mixed in with her very busy and unique personality. I’ve become accustomed to having a day like this. It’s much better than a full-blown battle day. Still, for a perfectionist who likes everything to run smoothly and peacefully, it can be a challenge to say the least.
Later on as we were in the van, a children’s worship CD was playing. Peanut asked if I would sing with her. I said yes. We both began singing these words together:
Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me
(“You Never Let Go” by Matt Redman)
As we sang this loudly and proudly (both out of tune), I knew that Peanut and I arrived at the Neutral Ground for today…or maybe just for this moment. It’s a place where we can both put aside all the stress and conflicts we had shared and find a way to connect with each other. She loves to sing; I love worship music. At the Neutral Ground, we’re able to discount the frustration and simply let each other know, “I still love you.”
I rely on God’s wisdom and strength during the battle days.
I rejoice and praise God during the peace days.
On a day like today, I keep smashing my sandcastle (my ideals) and allow God to mold me into a mother who has a little more patience, a little more calmness, and a whole lot of more love for my Peanut.
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by BooParry | Feb 13, 2012 | Intros, Key, Parenting
It’s very hard for me to communicate what it’s like to be a mother to my firstborn child (whom we affectionately call “Peanut”). She is so unique, and being her mother is unlike anything I’ve expected it to be. At the beginning, I would have said that it’s not a journey I would have chosen for myself. Now, after four years into the journey, I would not trade it for anything in the world. Here’s a summary of the roller-coaster adventures I have experienced with Peanut these last four years:
Surprise – The shock that came after Peanut’s birth was half my fault. I had dreamed of being a mother my whole life, but I never stopped to think of what it was actually going to be like. As an only child, I’ve been a “little adult” my whole life. I didn’t have much practice taking care of babies or children. I was used to so much freedom – doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted. I did not prepare myself nearly enough for how that world was about to change…drastically.
The other half of the shock was due to the fact that “easy going” was about the farthest phrase possible to describe my baby. God showed me from very early on that my ideal perspective of what it’s like to be a mother had to change dramatically.
Guilt – We struggled with breastfeeding for about a month. Even after it was finally mastered, my baby was very hard to please. I didn’t feel “connected” to her as I thought I should. I did not feel the instant affection that many other moms talked about. She didn’t seem particularly attached to me, and some days I didn’t feel particularly attached to her. With this realization came a large amount of guilt. What was wrong with me? I did not feel like someone whose dream had just come true. I felt more like someone who was daily trying to survive. As a toddler, she was very energetic and still hard to please. It was becoming very clear that she had a mind of her own and a strong determination. During both the baby and toddler stages, I welcomed any break I was able to receive from taking care of her. I relied heavily on the help of my supportive husband and mother. As if the feelings of guilt were not enough, I also felt very inadequate as a mother.
Battles – Ages two and three were filled with numerous battles. Her strong-willed nature manifested itself in full-force. Many of these battles involved heavy tears on both hers and my end. I constantly prayed for God’s wisdom. I often asked those closest to me to pray on my behalf (and I still do). There were many episodes, at home and in public, that made me think, “This cannot possibly be happening to me. I am not supposed to be that parent with an out-of-control child.” Once Peanut set her mind to something, she gave everything she had to fight for it. She had no reservation about taking a stand against me, and she also knew how to push my buttons. When her anger surpassed a certain level, there was very little I could do to calm her down or redirect her. Growing up, I was not used to being a part of any conflict, and at times her aggression scared me. I experienced more conflicts and oppositions with her in four years than I had in my whole life up to this point.
New Perspective – During these last four years, God has taught me so many lessons along the way. He taught me how to embrace life when it doesn’t turn out the way I pictured in my head. He taught me how to let go of guilt and insecurity, and instead trust in His process of molding me into the mother He has designed me to be. He taught me how to handle the tough battles with wisdom and calmness. Believe me, I’m far from where I can say I have “mastered” those lessons. I still struggle with disappointment, guilt, frustration, etc. But looking back, I can see that so much of my perspective has changed since four years ago. Instead of idealizing motherhood as a constant blissful season of life, I now see it as a huge opportunity to grow as a person. Instead of viewing my child’s strong-willed nature as an inconvenient trial, I now see it as an honor to be entrusted by God with this great responsibility of raising her. She challenges me everyday, and I continually discover the jewels hidden under her unique personality. She genuinely cares for others, especially when they are hurt. She is ultra sensitive; there’s so much depth to her thoughts and emotions. She is a natural leader; once she’s comfortable with the environment, she assumes the leadership role and takes charge (she just hasn’t learned to be tactful yet in her leadership). She is not afraid to stand up for what’s right, even if she has to go against the crowd. She loves to be helpful and get things done. She is extremely smart and pays attention to every detail. She has a great sense of humor. No two days are alike with her. She stretches me in every direction, but as I already said, I would not trade being her mother for any other role in the world. I’m so grateful for this new perspective God has developed in me during the last four years. My heart is full of excitement (instead of fear or doubt), as I think about the next fourteen years and beyond that I have with her.
This category of my blog is dedicated to my ongoing journey of raising my strong-willed child, Peanut. I will post some current adventures as well as my past adventures that I have written in my journals along the way…and how being her mother has taught me so much and helped me to grow as a person.
