Today, for the first time in his young life, my son resisted a hug from me . Because he was having some tweenage angst regarding instruction. He didn't just resist. He firmly pulled away. And he was good with that choice.
And I'm having a serious moment (or several) about it.
Parenting, like leadership, is a draining task. To keep all your little peeps trucking along in a row. To guide them. To instruct them.
If you're doing it well, you will not be making friends. At least not all the time. Someone in your row is going to be upset with you from time to time because receiving direction and instruction can be difficult. We all like to go our own way. But. If you report to someone, you have to go in the way that they desire. Because they are responsible for you. They are held accountable for your action or inaction as it pertains to outcomes.
Man. If parenting were all snuggles and baby kisses. Well. I'd have a lot more than two.
But.
Tweenage angst. (😡)
Adult entrees. (💸)
Book fair. (💰)
You understand.
I'm crying over here. Legit, real tears of sorrow and mommy pain.
My baby is an independent person with independent feelings and he is now on his way to stretching, pushing and growing his boundaries.
I'm trying to keep up with the curve, but like the movie, I have a little trouble with it.
It's probably ridiculous. But I felt that life inside my body and I birthed that child with great love and longing. I thereby reserve to have all the (several) moments of all the rites of passage that are now beginning in this household.
Son. I love you, sweet baby. You are my greatest joy. Your hands are letting go. And it's healthy. And natural. (Although not always done in the right way.)
And. No one. No one. Can prepare a Mommy's heart.
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