A Little Exercise & Perspective

I often look at my adult kids now and wonder: If they knew some of my mistakes as a young mama, would they still like me?

My kids seem to like me—or at least they humor me and make me think they do. (I’m fine with it either way; as long as I get to see them and talk to them, I don’t even care!) But sometimes, I replay the hard moments, the failures, the times I was in a rage, the times I was so tired, the times I felt like I had nothing left to give, the times I felt like I’d destroyed them as humans for all time. (I’m a tiny bit dramatic at times, but I’ll bet you understand exactly what I’m talking about.)

If they remembered those moments like I do, would they forgive me?

I have a different perspective now. I realize that as adults, they do remember some of those moments. But it’s not the only thing they remember. They remember the good ones, too. And thankfully, they have stored up more good moments than bad ones. They know I’m not perfect. They remember some of my failures—but somehow, miraculously, they remember the good moments with much greater importance.

I watched a young mama walk into a store this week with a baby on her hip and a toddler holding her hand. The mama was, of course, physically contorted in a way that allowed her to keep hold of the baby while bending down enough to reach the toddler’s hand. She was visibly at the end of her patience for the day (it was early evening, so that made sense) and clearly frustrated with the situation. The toddler, around two years old, looked to be potty training and probably could have used a fresh pull-up or diaper (sister was saggin’). She was also very grumpy and wanted the world to know about it.

I wasn’t staring, but I did glance over and, of course, caught the mama’s eye. That probably made it seem like I was staring or judging. Sister, I assure you I was doing no such thing. I’m a helper and a doer. I don’t care if you are a stranger or a best friend—if you need a hand, I’m your girl. I’ve been there: contorted, tired, and annoyed at that weird whiny thing toddlers do around 5 p.m. every day. I looked over to see if she needed help. She didn’t; she was handling it okay, and me inserting myself would have just made the situation worse. But I hate that all she got from me was a quick glance. There’s nothing I can do about it now, but I did spend the rest of my time in that store praying for her, her babies, her heart, her patience, and her perspective.

While I prayed, I wondered what that little girl, with all her discomfort and disdain, would think of her mama when she was grown. One day, that diaper-sagging, grumpy little creature will be an adult. And does that mama know that her little girl might not even remember moments like these? I don’t know that mama’s exact situation, but I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind for three days.

When we are in the thick of the baby, toddler, elementary, and teen years, it’s so easy to forget that we are raising adults. Your babies will spend the majority of their lives as adults. One day, that saggy pull-up will be no more. One day, body odor will not be an issue you have to constantly address. One day, the eye-rolling and disrespectful sass will stop.

If you are even attempting, in any small way, to parent well—even if you fail a lot—this season will pass. They will be adults, and they may even be one of your closest friends one day.

So, here’s a little exercise I’d like to offer. It’s a tough one, but it helped me, and it works.

When you’re in those moments—the really, really, really hard ones. The ones where you can feel the rage coming on, the frustration building to a point of explosion, the temptation to yell or scream—those moments. Put those babies, kids, or teens somewhere safe. (And by “safe,” I mean a crib, bedroom, or any secure place away from you for a few minutes.) Walk away. If you have babies or toddlers, it’s okay to leave them in a safe place to cry for a little bit. It really, really, really is. Do you hear me, sweet mama? It’s okay if they cry for a few minutes, even if it’s in a grocery cart at a store while an old lady is staring at you and judging you.

Okay, you’ve walked away or secured the children. Everyone is safe for a few minutes. Now, try this:

BREATHE: Take deep, slow breaths in and out, counting to ten.

COUNT: If your mind is racing, find something to count. Count it slowly while breathing. You might need to go all the way to 100. That’s okay. Breathe and focus on counting until you find some level of calm. It doesn’t have to be perfect—just calmer than you were before.

PRAY: Once you feel a little calmer, pray. Ask the Lord for perspective. Ask Him to remind you that this is just a season. Ask Him to remind you of how short this life is. Ask Him to remind you that He is merciful and forgiving. Let His forgiveness wash over you.

IMAGINE: Picture your babies as adults, sitting across from you at the table or walking with you in a store. You are friends in this scenario because they are adults. What kind of adult do you want to raise? Kind, brave, self-controlled, loving, funny? Name some attributes while you pray.

PRAY AGAIN: Pray for perspective again. Pray for what your baby, toddler, child, or teen needs in that exact moment.

Maybe you’re not an “exercise” kind of gal. Maybe you never lose your cool or get angry with your kids. But for those of you who struggle with it, like I did, these little tools were lifesavers. I cannot count the number of times I asked the Lord for perspective and creativity with a child, and He answered. I actually wish I had recorded every single one. It’d be a thick binder. He answers your prayers for help. Sometimes it’s just a subtle, “It’s okay, this will pass.” And sometimes it’s a specific action you need to take. But He answers.

The perspective is this: Remember, your babies will be adults for most of their lives. The moments you are in—the hard ones—are real and tough. I see you. It is tough. But remembering that you are raising adults helps. Sometimes, that toddler is just going to moan and whine. Is that normal? 100%. Is it okay to try and parent that out? 100%. Because as adults, it’s not okay to walk into a store whining and moaning. Obviously, it’s a process, and that toddler isn’t going to understand it right now. But it’s okay to let them know it’s not acceptable.

You are not a bad mom for telling them to stop it. You are not a bad mom for being frustrated and exhausted. You’re not. Recognize when you need to step away and go through this little exercise. But also remember: One day, they will be adults. And this moment will seem so far away.