Learning Humility By Force (also known as Parenting)

Before I was a parent, I thought I was a patient person. I was wrong.

For me, motherhood has been the most amazing, most rewarding, greatest generator of joy in my life (besides Jesus Christ, of course), and 10/10 the most humbling thing I have ever experienced. I so often felt (feel?) like a large lump of a rock, that God was chiseling, bit by bit, to try to uncover the daughter He knew was in there and the parent He knew I could be. News flash -- this did not feel pleasant nor comfortable.  

Luckily, I have been blessed with absolutely incredible kids who were resilient despite a mother who made all sorts of mistakes. 

I have an embarrassing confession to make. When I was something like 3 weeks pregnant with my first child, and thus an Expert on all things related to motherhood, I smugly said to my husband, "I don't think I will get morning sickness. Because I'm a healthy person, and not one of those drama queens who have to 'take to their bed' with a migraine every few weeks."  Well, God heard that, and decided I needed a bit of a lesson in empathy and judging others. I had terrible morning sickness throughout my pregnancies. And, just in case I hadn't learned my lesson, later in life He allowed me to experience debilitating migraines, just for good measure.

That pattern has repeated itself throughout my entire parenting career.

I was NEVER going to talk baby talk. And that lasted until Aerin, my first, was about 15 seconds old. 

I was NEVER going to be overprotective. But then I quickly spiraled into a complete meltdown when my three day old baby was exposed to chicken pox. I called the doctor, after hours, sobbing. ME: "My neighbor came over with her 2 year old toddler. Her daughter had her hands all over my baby. And I just found out the next day she broke out with chicken pox! And I know that the day before is when they are the most contagious!" DR: "Does your baby have a fever?" ME: "No." "DR: Has she broken out in spots?" ME: "No. Not yet. But the toddler was contagious! And she was touching her!" DR: "Is your baby showing any signs of sickness?" ME: "I don't know! She's only a few days old!" DR: "But there are immunities. She'll probably be just fine." ME: (wailing) BUT I"M NOT BREAST FEEDING!!!" (Dissolving into sobs.)

I'm sure I made the "Honey, you'll never guess what happened today at work," conversation that night between the doctor and his wife.

I also was NEVER going to be overly controlling. When I was younger, I interpreted that as not doing my kids' science fair tri-folds for them. I thought it meant letting my children access their storybooks at all times, do art projects involving glitter, and get both the legos AND the pokemon cards out at the same time. But then I became a mother of teenagers. I became wracked with anxiety over the fact that I could not protect them from the hell of junior high. The heavy realization that I could not prevent them from choosing horrible friends or damaging boyfriends, nor could I keep them from potentially making dreadful choices that could harmfully impact the rest of their lives, was incredibly troubling. And at that point, I realized... I have Control Issues. 

My kids actually were all really great teenagers. But I didn't know if any of us would survive their toddler years. All three of my kids landed in the Completely Crazy and Out of Control Toddler category. Still not sure if it was genetic, parenting fails, or a combination of the two. But each one of my toddlers was incredibly busy.  

People would often comment on it, thinly disguising their criticism by saying things such as, "My goodness, your daughter/son is very.... active... isn't he/she?" or "Wow, you are a very patient mother." Which was usually code for, "If that were my child, I would not put up with that."

A few years ago, my friend Rebekka, who was always very direct, said to me, "I need to apologize to you." When I asked her why, she said, "We always sat behind you at church. And I would watch your kids climb all over you and I would tell Gary, "If those were my kids, they'd be slapped silly. Why doesn't she do something about her kids?" But your kids turned out really well. So I guess I was wrong." 

I mumbled, "Thank you?"

And then about 6 or 7 years ago, a friend from my old neighborhood and ward said to me. "We were just talking about you the other day. Y'know (neighbor)? Her kids are really really hard right now. I told her, "Do you remember Christy Ogden? Her kids were TERRIBLE, and yet they all turned out really great." 

I'm not sure if I should be grateful I'm a source of hope for beleaguered mothers, or embarrassed that I am the litmus test of crazy toddlers? 

Either way, I'm grateful that we all survived somewhat intact and that no one became an axe murderer. 

But never say never. 

Because that's how Parenting goes.