Be Still My Mama Heart

Kids have an uncanny way of grabbing a hold of our hearts, twisting them like a soaking wet dishcloth and watching us go limp in front of their innocent little eyes.  My kids did that tonight.  They have a way of wringing me out in this fashion when Tim is out of town.  Or maybe I slow down enough to allow for these moments when Tim is out of town.  Because I know I have to pace myself to keep all of us alive and somewhat happy.

Dude over-reacted to something his sometimes well intentioned sister did at dinner (this happened to be one of those times), so I asked him to sit on the steps to take some deep breaths and think about being more respectful.  This process brought about a deeper level of frustration, which landed him firmly in his bedroom. After Squirt and I finished our Trader Joes beef and broccoli, I headed upstairs to chat with my 8 year old darling.  I asked him to tell me what he was feeling that made him react so strongly to his sister's dancing arm movements and this is what I got.....

"Mom, I just think that was a small situation and you acted like it was SOOOOO big and I just don't care about small situations!  I'm so confused why this is so big."  Mmmm...Interesting.  I explained that being disrespectful to his sister and his mom is not indeed a small thing and that God would like us to talk about having more respect in situations like that.  He bowed his house and gave me a "Yes Maam."

Then he said, "Mom, can I please change the subject?  I need to say that I don't feel like I have control over my reactions like that.  It's like when you get sick and you just can't help it, my reactions come out like lightening and I don't even have time to breathe before it happens and then it's too late."  He was shaking his little fists and his eyes were welling up as he spoke.  My heart was tearing at the seams.  I saw a more grown up boy in my midst as he spoke and this might have been the first time I truly saw him in that light.  I responded with, "I'm so proud of you for telling me what your brain and your heart feels like and I appreciate you being able to talk to me about your feelings."  He broke down in uncontrollable sobs and forced out, "I just thought it was time to tell you."

He might have heard the remaining tearing occurring inside of me at that moment.  When I asked him if he wanted to pray with me to ask God to help us with our reactions he said, "No thank you mom.  I asked God to take away my Tourettes and He did not do it, so I just want to be able to be myself and over-react like I was made to do."

If I wasn't already on the ground friends, I would have taken that position in that moment.  I told him that I understood his frustration with God and that it was okay.  I also told him that my job as his mom is to pray for him when he feels too frustrated to pray.  I told him that he was perfect the way God created him, but that doesn't mean it's always going to be easy to be ourselves.  I told him that I over-react and have to ask God to help me every single day, something 10 times.  The power of prayer is tricky and complicated to me at 37, so at 8, I need to give him the space to question it and not provide all the answers for him.  Because I suspect he'll come to me with more wisdom on the subject than I'll ever be able to offer him.  That's the way it works with him.  My wise, over-reacting little man.

After that emotional overload, I headed downstairs to my over-compensating 5 year old angel who had single handedly cleaned the entire kitchen, without being asked.  The dishes were in the dishwasher, the table and counters wiped down and she was changing her wet PJ top from all her hard work.  She offered up her "I did that" smile and I hugged her ferociously.

Thank you for these little beings God.  Truly.