He sits over a bowl of chocolate ice cream. A big bowl. And I go generous on the chocolate syrup to sweeten the conversation. And between bites he starts to share. The story of the day that was too hard to tell in the preschool corridor spills out over tears and chocolate ice cream.
He eats slowly, with big bites. He swallows and shares and then bites again.
I listen carefully.
I listen because it’s all I can do. My nearly six year old is teaching me to find new ways to love him. Because the familiar methods of rocking, hugging, and kissing were left behind along with his toddler bed earlier this year. He is growing into a new view of himself and sometimes it makes me dizzy to see who he is becoming.
Some days more like me and some more like his dad. But mostly he’s becoming himself.
So I feed him ice cream and wait for the story to melt out of the hard hurting corners of his day. I can’t take away the ache or the disappointment, but I can help him metabolize it. This is a new kind of learning to walk. Often he falls down and I have to watch as he gets himself upright again. As he finds his balance and processes what he tripped over.
It is a learning curve for both of us.
How to give comfort with words and space before the familiar territory of hugs.
As mamas we weave beauty out of the ache. We offer ourselves as buffer against the world and then send the most precious pieces of our hearts back out into it again. And any hurt we’ve experienced ourselves is as nothing compared to how it feels to watch our children wounded. What we wouldn’t give to bruise instead of them.
What we wouldn’t give.
I feel the Father squeeze my hand. And we both sit over that bowl of chocolate ice cream and watch a blond haired boy growing up before our eyes.
Oh, “what we wouldn’t give” – you are so right! I think that is the hardest pain a mama endures, the pain of seeing our children hurt. Motherhood is a hard gig for sure.
You have described a mama’s heart and the angst of having your baby growing up before your eyes perfectly. Just wait until you’re a Nana…you feel that same powerful, indescribable, love…the love that leaves you vulnerable with the ache of wanting to protect them from all the ugly in this world.
Tear. TEAR!
I am not ready! NOT READY I SAY!
And after I throw a temper tantrum, I rally and do as you say, and cry a little inside as I watch their baby fat disappear and their interests go from chew rings to pirates to girls with big bows.
I’m going to stock up on ice cream.
What a beautiful post…
Cxx
another post that gets me all teary first thing in the morning. i love it. and i truly appreciate it. my little boy is only 19 months old. i can relate through blocks and chase and hugs and kisses. i worry often how our relationship will unfold as he gets older and no longer desires to crawl into mommy’s lap for snuggles. thank you for this bit of encouragement. thank you for opening my eyes to look for new and out-of-the-box ways to know and love my sweet precious gifts from god.
you are a blessing sweet friend.
Sharing the days ups and downs over ice cream sounds like a great way to unwind. I will have to remember to do this with my son.
super rich!! I needed this one today!
‘As mamas we weave beauty out of the ache. We offer ourselves as buffer against the world and then send the most precious pieces of our hearts back out into it again.’
So thankful for mamas like you who so tenderly relay the way of walking with God as we mother…it gives me a lot of hope and reminders I am not alone.
You know what it is to hear tender mother words when we miss the presence of our own…Lisa-Jo, I don’t know what else to say except that your mama dances with Him over the mother you are and becoming:) hugs:)
So sweet. It’s definitely a learning curve isn’t it… unexplored territory for both of you.
So, so true. If my Tongginator doesn’t share her hurts or tough questions during our first-of-the-morning snuggle, she will wait and do it while I’m quiet and she’s eating.
What a sweet post. One of the hardest things about being a Mom is watching your kids go through heartache — and finding new ways to communicate about it as they grow & mature. I just love your story. And when you felt the Father squeeze your hand — oh my, the tears fell! Beautiful.
Tears….do you know it will always be so Lisa-Jo? I talked with my baby boy who is now 38 years old today. He is hurting. My heart is broken, and I want to make it all better for him – all of it. I can only do what you are doing – bring him before the One who loves him perfectly.
Ooh, good post, my friend. And he is heartbreakingly cute.
My baby turns 1 on Thursday, and this really spoke to me. Thank you.
OH! That precious wee-watt of yours…he is yummy!!
Love this post…one can never go wrong with ice cream.
this post was already melting me… and then THE PICTURE.
if he ever needs a new home you can send him to mine. he is PRECIOUS.
What a beautiful post, he is such a sweet boy!