There are frayed edges of motherhood that aren’t often talked about. Those places where we’re holding onto our temper with one hand and the belief that things have got to get better eventually with the other.
One night that place rocks me hard as I rock my baby girl in one arm and cell phone cradled between cheek and ear with the other. I kick gently back and forth, back and forth between my quiet confession whispered into the listening ear of my mother-in-law and the loud ache in my gut at what I share with her.
Sometimes I am scared of my three-year-old son.
The one whose name means “gift from God.” The one named after the apostle who was Christ’s rock. I think of him as our bulldozer. Our passionate compassionate child of temper so fierce we catch echoes of his berserker ancestors on an otherwise ordinary Friday afternoon in Virginia when I’m scared of what mood he’ll be in when I pick him up from preschool.
Scared how he’ll react if he gets the blue cereal bowl instead of the red one, scared what he’ll do if we can’t find the Woolworths Teddy Bear come bed time or nap time or car ride time or any old time when he needs it.
He can storm harder and longer than my temper can usually take.
I am tattered and frayed and frightened of how I am starting to feel about him. Worried that I can’t find the necessary reserves of love to remember to like him. I simply want to mute him.
So I rock and whisper my secrets into the phone over the baby’s whispy soft hair and the dark room cocoons both of us. My mother-in-law suggests we go back to the beginning. We trace family trees and genes and remember that blue eyes aren’t the only things children inherit by blood. I stop being mad at him and instead start to research him.
I study my son.
And God starts to show me how to see. Not with a magnifying glass, but a mirror.
I see my own temper. I see generations of temper before that. I see how lazy my prayers are and how haphazard my approach to helping him. How it’s mostly a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.
I see how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed him.
I begin to exercise my motherhood again. I stretch and bend and pray. I fast and pay attention and listen. Instead of floundering in the stories everyone else tells me about him, I begin to draft his narrative. I write it down. How I want to see this son of mine. How I want to teach others to see him.
I send these words to his teacher,
We so appreciate your partnership. We value Micah and the work that Christ is doing in his heart. He is extremely sensitive to the stories of Jesus and understands that his name means, “Like unto God” and his second name means “the rock”.
We are encouraging him to be a man who lives in the blessing of his name and is a leader and encourager and protector of others.
I begin to sense Micah growing in my heart with flutters much like when I first felt him moving in my belly. I cradle this new story. It is a relief to be writing it again and not just turning the pages terrified of what comes next.
I pray for him more in one month than perhaps the rest of his months combined.
I pray and praying is writing and writing is realizing and realizing is seeing. I see the story God has for my Micah.
I speak it out loud over him.
Sometimes, in the beginning, when I am still finding the words, only when he’s asleep. And when he wakes up and asks me what I’m doing I’m too embarassed to tell him. I start to make something up, to say I was just checking on him. But then I catch myself and I give the truth to his sleep-grogged ears straight, “I am praying for you. I am praying you will be a great warrior for God’s Kingdom.”
He yawns, whispers, “OK,” rolls over.
As I stare at the back of his sleep matted hair. As I listen to him start to snore gently and count the seven, eight, nine stuffed animals surrounding him. As I wonder how he even fits into that bed with all the swords, pliers and puppies clamoring for space alongside I catch something unexpected. My stomach aches with a tender like for this son of mine.
I like that this is how he chooses to sleep.
I like how it so perfectly illustrates his compassion for all living things.
I like how his big, clumsy limbs that he is still growing into are draped diagonally across the bunk.
I like that the radio’s on because he was dancing for me just before going to bed.
I like how he sleeps in the same position as his dad and how he thrives on the same routine every night.
I like the glass of water he always asks for and keeps close to his bed just like me.
I like the discarded book on dinosaurs he was reading and the pen and note pad he always has under his pillow.
I like him so much I can hardly breathe. I just sit in that room between a toy tiger and Casting Crowns playing on the radio and stroke the sweaty forehead of a nearly four-year-old and let the like keep filling me up.
All the way up to overflowing.
::
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Mandy Scarr
So familiar with the feeling of not liking I cherrish your post with it’s wonderful way to change … change in me!
Bless you for writing about the difficult times of love!
What an awesome blessing to see such an obvious change brought on by obedience.
This really is an encouragement and a blessing. Thank you for being an example.
Lisa-Jo! THANK YOU for this post. I know the feeling far too well of feeling tattered and frayed, and it is scary. I’m still fumbling with how to pray for my boys, how to research them and write their stories, and how to hold my temper and find patience at the end of looooong days with little fellows who aren’t listening. <3
It’s amazing how powerful it has been for me to really think of it that way – researching and studying these sons of mine to be sure I understand their hearts and am loving them in ways that speaks their language. It changes both of us.
Absolutely beautiful. That was so perfect in such a true and imperfect situation. I don’t struggle with this, but this message should be heard by all mamas. Your blog is a blessing.
ahh, so beautiful! I have a daughter that twists my heart in this way…and you know what? she’s making it into a form I never knew I was missing. She is one who I fought to love…and that fighting draws her to me in a way I can’t describe. Thank you for honesty. Thank you for loving him out loud.
Yes, that exactly. Fighting for him draws him to me.
thank you, thank you, thank you for being so open and honest and sharing these words. i’ve so often struggled with not liking my children these last few weeks as they have stretched me and revealed so much of my sin to me. i’ve so easily found myself wallowing in the ways i’ve acted towards them (funny how i so often tell my son to stop wallowing in his sin, yet…) and then felt so horrible because of not really wanting to be with them. it did hit me last week that i am spending more time sitting in my misery instead of praying for them and for myself to change. (posted here: http://aconstantpursuit.wordpress.com/2011/11/17/praying-for-offenses/). so thanks for being vulnerable and giving words to where i am.
This was beautiful.
oh my, lisa-jo. i remember struggling so much with both of my boys when they were three. and i know how awesome, AWESOME it is to be able to say that i LIKE my children. i love their company. and that. is. god. at work in their hearts and mine. great post.
Yes, liking him as been a most wonderful journey of discovery. And my but it has paid off more than I ever could have imagined.
Oh I remember this…
Three and a half to four were the hardest months . . . and the fact that I was pregnant with his younger brother at the time made it so much worse.
I begged my midwife to write me a note excusing me from work a week earlier than I was supposed to start my leave because my poor son was getting only what was left of his mommy at the end of the day… and since my husband works nights? You can imagine that it wasn’t a pretty scene…
Thank you so much for being honest and real and open.
It is so important!!
I can so relate to this, Meredith! I struggled with my younger son – horribly – from the time he was about 18 months until just after he turned four. We still have *those* kind of moments, and he’s five now. The worst was from 2-3. He was tremendously defiant, my husband was working 12-hour night shifts (7-7), and I was pregnant…with twins. Plus I had my older son who was 4-5 at the time, and was a breeze of a firstborn aside from being sensitive. Then came Eli, and I was so busy feeling sorry for myself that any defiance from him was like a personal affront. It was MONTHS of rage. I’d scream, swear, spank, beg, plead, cajole, scream, and swear some more, all to no avail. Then when I was at my breaking point I’d call my mom or sister and BEG them to come help. Then once he was asleep I’d lay on his bed and just sob. It wasn’t until that spirit of rage was broken in me that I had – literally – a prayer of molding him into who he should be. It’s still a work in progress, as am I, but I’m learning to appreciate Eli for the person God made him. Thank you, Lisa-Jo, for putting into words what so many mommas are afraid to admit they’ve been through.
You have given a gift to so many mothers, in daring to say these things out loud and on the internet. Telling him the truth, “I’m praying for you;” can they ever hear that enough? I’m completely in love with his response.
Thank you for being honest and for giving me a new way of approaching this struggle that I am having with my sons as well.
What a blessing it is to read this today, after months of feeling tattered and frayed with one of my own children. Well, okay, maybe I’ve felt that way with two or three of my own children lately. This is such an encouragement to my soul and an incentive to stretch my own parenting as well. I thank you and my children would thank you too!
I love your honesty here…most parents go through this season with at least one child…maybe it is the one most like us…I know that is the case for me…keep pressing in…crying out…because when those teen years come…you will have a large deposit to draw from…
blessings as you love your kids well….
Yes – the one most like us, indeed! He and I are so alike and God teaches me so much through looking into the mirror of my Micah.
Maybe something God showed me along time ago might be helpful to you…sometimes I would see myself…the part of myself I did not like…did not love…and so I wanted to “save” my child from growing in these same places I was longing for God to change in me. I do believe we can help them…but I had to learn not to want to go in and grab it out of them…to root it out myself…and learning not to be driven by the fear they will be like me…but to be led…to wait for His Spirit to give opportunity to teach and share from our experiences…and yes…it is a mirror of ourselves…but also how patient…kind and longsuffering God is with us…
I hope this is a help….just a little further down the road sometimes helps with perspective…
blessings ….
Lisa-Jo! This is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Thank you for sharing your heart. I have difficult people, too — who mirror the one in the mirror, I’m quite sure. Was just discussing with the girls in my Bible study how we are supposed to “phileo”love our husbands, too–to actually like them, see them with affection … just like you talk about here. To say “I love you, I just don’t like you very much right now” is really not quite the way God wants us to live.
Blessings to you on your journey; glad we sojourn together!
Such power in prayer and writing the story, as opposed to painfully and fearfully reading the story we allow others to write. It takes a wide open heart to view our children as God sees them, as we need to see them. Thank you for sharing the how to switch tracks. It is not always easy, but it is essential for them and us. It may seem hard, but continuing down the other path holds a lot of trouble and heartache for all.
Nowadays my only child, a 21 year old boy (man?) doesn’t live at home with me, and while the nest is often TOO empty and TOO lonely, I am glad he’s out on his own. It IS hard work, sometimes, to like your own child, and as a mom it troubles me to admit that but it reassures me to hear others agree. I think it’s hard to see ourselves – and our faults and short-comings – in these little beings we created, but then grace appears. I know all the places I need grace, and he’s so much like me and it makes showing him that much needed grace so much easier.
Lisa-Jo, thanks for sharing this today. I think a lot of moms needed to hear it.
Thank you for this. Being the Mother of a fiery three-year-old, I understand that place. And thanks to you, I will go pray for my daughter, and my temper, and hope I will come to the same realization you did.
Lisa-Jo. Thank you, for writing such a beautiful, hard truth here. It is hard to put these things out in the world, hard to find the words, to be so honest…. Thank you. I have felt these same things,- and you just said it here, so perfectly…. Thank you, your mama-heart is just beautiful.
There you go again, inside my head and speaking to my heart.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Is all I can say through tears.
You bless.
Thanks so much for sharing your heart with this. I have a “gift from God” named child myself that makes me sometimes look for the gift receipt–I can’t handle this one, Lord!! This has spoken to me and challenged me to pray hard for him and see where God can lead us. thanks again!
Love this Lisa-Jo! So have been there and so thankful to look back and realize how far we have come. So thankful God never leaves any of us alone on this journey, even though at times I sure have questioned him, he has been faithful!
I know that mirror and the frustration. I also know exactly what you mean when you name them and continue to call them who they are in spite of evidence to the contrary:) There is something so important in the naming, and in knowing what God calls them as well. Bless your warrior! He will do great things for the Kingdom, just like his Mama.
Wow. What a powerful reminder to the magnitude that prayer holds in the lives of our children, our spouses, and all those we love, or struggle to love/like. I am encouraged to be more diligent in my prayers for those who are “not so easy” to like — to see through HIS heart, HIS eyes…
Thank you.
So tender and beautiful. I’m touched by the image of you telling your son about your prayers, and then having him roll over with a simple OK. I love how he receives …
Thank you, too, for putting words to the hard places of a mom’s work. Be blessed, dear one.
Such a beautiful story of God’s transformation of the heart when we surrender it to Him.
I can relate from a real place.
My son will be 20 next month. And I have learned over the years to like him beyond a mother’s love. And to like and love him for the young man that God created him to be.
Thank you so much. This is so needed, as so many have already said. I guess the issue is more widespread than I thought. Than any of us thought.
I like my three birthed, though it’s still a good exercise when we get too busy with chores. But in my case, I must learn to like my un-birthed – 13, and a stepdaughter. (Two strikes, so to speak, lol.) If I were her age, I would. not. like. her. I would not be her friend. But there is beauty inside, and it is a desperate struggle to find it, buried deep underneath pain and sorry and anger and confusion and revenge and just simply being 13.
I love how you started writing his story, re-speaking his beauty into truth. I love how you took inventory of all his likes as he lay sleeping.
Thank you for these practical tips.
Thank you for this. I have been feeling like this with my almost 4yo daughter as well. Its hard to be honest about things like this with those closest to us. Thank you for your bravery and your faith!
I needed to read this. I have a ten yr old daughter who I struggle with. I see myself mirrored in her all too vividly. How I need to pray for both of us. Thanks for the reminder. God melts hearts, bends wills to His way…
I needed to read this today, so much. thank you for that.
I love this post so much that I Stumbled it. I have a three year old son that I truly love. There are times during the day when we don’t like each other. This post helped me remember that I am not the only one who struggles.
This was a welcome read as I listen to my own three year old not napping down the hall…
Oh Lisa-Jo,
I have a son so much the same as this, its amazing the similarities. A big temper and the animals and Legos that all have to come to bed, he has to have the exact routine every day. A compassionate boy who loves the Bible and even though he is my most difficult child he is the prayer warrior in our house. We speak words of affirmation over him, and work diligently to train him. It is tough some days. He is 5 1/2 and I see big improvements coming. Thank you for being brave to tell this story, it has helped me to hear that I am not alone!
Bless you my friend!
Just posted this on the Preschoolers and Peace page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Preschoolers-and-Peace/336131164078
Thanks. And you are not alone. My trickiest relationship has been with my firstborn, who is now 18. They are tough waters to navigate and I wish I’d had the wisdom to talk about his positive traits to others; I did more damage than good complaining to friends. Our relationship is good now, but that’s all and only by God’s grace.
That was beautiful.
LOVE this post. It’s so true…we don’t speak about those times of motherhood. When I wasn’t a mother and we were trying so hard to get pregnant, I would often dream of te life I wanted with my kids. I wanted to be the one to run in a field with my kids in their dapper outfits and pick them up and swing them around and laugh all day long. Taking pictures and family outings & holidays. Never ever the did the thought enter my mind regarding fits, meltdowns, tantrums, toy-throwing, screaming, outfit traumas, complaining or fussing. Nor the idea of trying to get out the door would sometimes take 2 hours that “pre-mommy” would take 5 minutes. Those thoughts never entered my “pre-mommy” brain. But all of these experiences in motherhood all come together and create something truly memorable and laughable as we move through the stages
.
They are so powerful and smart! 
thanks for writing this. And by the way, I have a 10 month old little boy, too–and he doesn’t know this…but I’m ready for the 3′s!! tee hee
I remember being scared of my 3 year old too (now almost 5).
Lisa-Jo,
i cried as i read this post. cried because i can relate and cried because you reminded me the importance of allowing myself to like my kids. i am struggling with a much older child right now, 18 to be exact. 18 and thinking she’s ready for the world, when this mommy heart knows shes not. 18 and thinking that she’s boss and has thought this since she was 8 years old. 18 and wanting to challenge this mama’s heart at every turn. there are days, especially today, when i forget how to like her. thank you for reminding me to take a look at the mama which she came from…the mama who was so much like her at this age. i love your blog. am so very blessed every time i read. i get your posts via email and when i see that i have one from you, i save it to read after i’ve read the less important emails, knowing that i will want to treasure it. thank you for allowing God to use you to minister to messy mommy hearts like mine….
blessings…
Oh Patty – you are a mom so by definition, you are brave. Brave and wonderful to care so much about your daughter.
Oh Lisa-J0 – I wonder if this isn’t common to almost every Mama. I know it was true for me. I only wish I had handled it as wisely as you have. In spite of me, His hand of grace was there, and this child is now a grown up woman of remarkable beauty – inside and out. And she is my dearest friend.
Thank you!
I needed this especially today, after a week of being solo with my daughter while my husband works late and overtime. Having an intense, powerful, vivacious daughter while needing to do everything without any help around the house has made me short and irritated, and I have begun to dislike my blessing who I prayed so hard to get. Your words have come to my attention at my breaking point, and just when I needed them, just as God works. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
I so appreciate your honesty. I don’t like admitting that I struggle with this with my daughter, the one most like me. But I do. And I want to change that. Thank you.
Thank you so much for this post. This whole topic has been weighing heavily on me concerning my oldest son. My heart is encouraged.
Blessings!
I am so convicted about praying for my kids. Thanks for sharing this!
Please keep on investing in liking your son as well as loving him. My Dad loved me but he never invested his time in liking me, and I ended up struggling with that lack for fifteen years of my life before I forgave my Dad. Bless you for investing in your son this way.
I fear it so much…..that feeling that has been so familiar in such a short amount of time. My son is only 20 months old and in most moments, on most days he is kind, obedient, and a joy, but I am already tired to the constant fight with sleep, the strong will that can literally cry for HOURS!!!
I fear that I will hurt him as I have been hurt. That he will “know” the love, but not really experience it. Oh Lord, I pray now to see him through the lens you desire.
I am so thankful I found your blog. The Lord is using your posts to speak to me and my mothering! I feel this way about one of my children often, and the Lord has shown me the same issues in myself that I don’t like in her. In fact, I have found the Lord has shown me so much more of His love for me and how I relate to Him since I became a mother. Thank you for your honesty and openness. I love it. It’s like a cool wind to my soul!
Yes! This is a similar journey to the one I’ve grace-lived with my middle daughter. Learning to like her was the secret to loving her.
I really, really liked your post. The idea of mothering intentionally is so powerful! The way you named your son specifically, and are raising him to know that this is what you anticipate seeing lived out in him…wow!! My daughter is young yet–only 14 mos–but I’m constantly aware of how I need to be more diligent, more intentional with her….especially in prayer. Thanks for posting!!
I loved this post! I had a similar experience with my daughter and reading your post made me want to write about it too. Thanks for your honesty. It’s refreshing and encouraging. I linked back to your post in mine so other people could read your well expressed thoughts. Blessings
http://4clarkesinasia.blogspot.com/2011/11/when-everything-is-not-ok.html
Oh, to see the story God has for our fiercely strong boys – boys who are destined to become warriors. What a precious charge God has entrusted to us.
Beautiful words today.
isn’t it always that way with Jesus… We ask and he gives to overflowing… so glad for your basket of spilling over joy!
Thank you so much for writing and sharing this. It reminded me of the joy I had when my daughter was a baby. I want to get that joy in my children back. Thank you! I need to pray more too. I will keep you and your son in my prayers too!
So understand . . . it all. He is now 21 yrs old. My first born. Still my thorn . . . and my savior of sorts. Profoundly grateful for a God who saw fit to humble me deeply with this flesh of my flesh. So grateful that God chose to, early on, call me out . . . to speak to me through this harsh reflection of self. May you TRUST the God who ordained this child for you. May you embrace the humility, failure, desperation and ensuing submissive posture this child brings. May you breathe in the profound GOODNESS it is about to usher into your life.
Just. Wow. I have that three year old, too. But it’s one whose name means “oath of God” and oh my goodness Lisa Jo. Just as I remembered that meaning, I remembered what God spoke to me right before I got pregnant with her. {Tears welling}.
He told me I was going to be pregnant with her – just 7 months after giving birth to my son.
Do you know what He said to me…what He PROMISED me? The oath He gave me? And isn’t it meant for now as well as then?
He said, “I Am your Portion. Do you believe that?” That’s what He said! And have I drawn from Him now? No. I lean on my own strength and emotions run high and I yell {and then I cry}.
Oh my goodness, did He ever use you to speak to me today. {cry}. *Thank you*
Lisa-Jo,
I struggled with this, too. My Boy was pushing and pulling from me, and I could see his angst. He wanted me in, but his natural instinct was independence. Learning about males and how God specifically and uniquely created them–as leaders–helped me to understand a little more. I delved into studying God and his purposes in the characteristics of males and I started to see the gifts He gave my son. Though I also was faced with the reality of my son’s lineage (and thus my own) and the hard truth of sin over sin over sin, I also found peace and comfort in studying who my son is deep inside, like you are.
I scared myself, like you’re scared of yourself. But, the first step (I think) is the raw honesty. And the gratitude for how God has them–He knows–and how He is the parent and He knows so much more than us. That’s our worship.
{hugs}…
You bring me to tears Lisa-Jo. There’s been a lot of “researching” of our sons lately. I know I shared they’re both men now, but I sit with my eldest son’s wife. We pray, we talk, we research each son and ponder the future of their son, our grandson. So many blessings overwhelm the researching and bring us to trust God’s faithfulness for their future. We can be their best cheerleaders, love them to smithereens, and pray, pray, pray.
Your post today helped me feel at peace right where we’re at. Thank you so much.
Jo-Lynn,
Oh my, you’ve written my heart. I’m sitting here choking back tears, actually. sigh – so much on my heart about this but not ready to be spoken.
Thank you for sharing this part of your heart with us.
Janelle
GraceTags
Lisa-Jo, can you write a post without gutting me please?
Really, I am afraid of my son sometimes. But as he is able to communicate more and more, there is this charming, fun, amazing little man coming out. And I *really* like this fellow I’m getting to know!
I loved this post. Thank you for your honesty and vulnerability. I struggle with my oldest daughter…she has a strong personality and is so intelligent for her age and we butt heads a lot. Yet I love her so fiercely and it is true, the more fervently I pray, I see her in a different light.
I’ve read this and so relate to that feeling of not liking one of your own children. Then you talked about being intentional… and I feel like for a long time now I’ve been mothering blind.
Just so consumed by getting through each day that I haven’t raised my head to take a look at where we’re actually going, in this desperate rush to get through each day.
Thank you, Lisa-Jo for your honesty, and for giving me a glimpse of what I need to do with my children.
Finding this post today . . . it’s a god-thing for sure! I have been having this struggle with my oldest boy. Just yesterday, one tiny thing happened at his school . . . and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I’ve talked with him about it; there was no ill intent, and he feels truly sorry. But, I haven’t been able to let it go. Why? Because it happened in front of all the other kids and parents. What’s the real problem here? Me! My pride . . . my ego! He’s 5 years old . . . learning . . . growing . . he’s the child. I’m the adult . . . the parent. I have tears in my eyes thinking about my shortcomings as a mom and the lack of grace that I sometimes give to my boys. Thank you so much for your post. It has blessed me more than you will ever know!
What a wonderful post on an issue that every parent struggles with at times!
It is so easy to get so caught up in parenting that we forget to take the time to simply enjoy our children…and as you point out, it sometimes takes a good deal of work and prayer to even remember how.
Thank you!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you for saying on the screen what I have felt in my heart about my eldest. My eldest who is at once beautiful, creative, passionate, and challenging. Thank you for the reminder to write a new story – to stop listening to the stories everyone else tells. To pray, to pray, to pray over her. Thank you for being brave and writing this post. It ministered to me.
Jessica at Muthering Heights linked to this, and I knew based on the title that I had to come read this. THANK YOU for being so honest about something I am struggling with my just-turned-4 year old son…and something that I feel so guilty about. I think your Micah and my Seth are twins.
Some days are really easy, but lately, those days of “liking” have been oh so difficult. I have felt really convicted lately about not praying enough for him, and I love your idea of the story. Thank you for sharing!
This is a brilliant, beautiful post! Wow. It brought tears to my eyes as I read it. My daughter tests me like your son tests you. I often forget to enjoy being her mama. I can relate to having to bring yourself to a place where you abandon a thought process that disengages you from mothering your child so that you like and love them equally. It is a special place to get to. This really was such a special post. Thank you!
The first part of your post brought goose-bumps for me, and the second part for tears. Challenges like these have also been part of my journey with our oldest boy–and his name means “mighty warrior.”
I’m learning that it’s ok to cry over it and not know what to do other than to pour it out to God. He can bring healing and perspective if we will just let Him in. Thank you for sharing!
I’ve just been bawling my eyes out reading this because I’m struggling so much with my big boy right now! I feel so bewildered sometimes! I feel EXACTLY the same way you wrote about being scared of what mood he’s going to be in if he gets the wrong coloured cereal box etc. I have two sons now and in my weaker moments (which are too often lately!) I just have no idea how to raise them. I’m a girl. I get girls. I have a daughter. I know what to do with her. (Well, sometimes.) But boys? They’re a different species! I trust that God has given them to me for my sanctification and because we are the best for each other. I just need to trust Him more. Thank you for the reminder to continually pray for my sons. (And daughter too!)
Thank you for your honesty. The post was just breathtaking in it’s honesty and truth. I love how you are changing your outlook, which will ultimately change him too!!! God’s grace and peace be with you and yours!!!
Thank you for posting this. I have two sons – the older has ADHD & SPD, and is a challenging child most days. My younger is energetic, happy and so full of joy I wonder how his little body contains it all! The fact is that I love both of my children, but it is so much easier to like one than it is to like the other. I know that God gave each of them to us for a reason, but sometimes I feel as though I’m completely unprepared and incompetent when it comes to mothering my older. Some days, I can only remember how much a do like him after he has fallen asleep.
It is comforting to know that I’m not the only mother who has felt this. Thank you.
Not the only mother who’s felt this way by far, Keowdie! I think many of us wrestle with the calling to like our kids. And it makes us brave and teaches us whole new ways to see the world. Blessings on you and your journey.
Thank you for speaking for me as well through this post.
“I stop being mad at him and instead start to research him.
I study my son.
And God starts to show me how to see. Not with a magnifying glass, but a mirror.”
Lisa,
After I stopped reading this and crying, I went over to my son’s bed (still sleeping) and prayed for him and cried again. Thank you for the encouragement and the reminder!
I also like my son so much I can hardly breathe!
Hey Monica –
It’s amazing what looking at our kids through a mirror can do, isn’t it? Blessings on you and your boy.
I ended up here by happenstance, following rabbit trails, and I am so glad I did! I know this feeling so well, I’m still working to overcome, working to like my daughter. The circumstances are altogether different than yours but the results and the pain of it is the same and it is such a deep pain. I just wanted to say thank you so very much for sharing this openly; it is very helpful to know that I am not alone.
Hey there Ponder Woman,
I’m so glad that Micah and I – that our story – could encourage you. He’s six months older now and growing into his skin and out of his temper more each day. And I just find more and more to like about him. Blessings on your journey as you find your way through the ache and into a season of healing.
Nice to meet you Lisa-Jo! I’ve only recently started reading your blog and love coming to visit now. My Zuzu is this child you describe. And like another poster commented, the irony is I fought to get her here. She was my first after 2 miscarriages. She’s labeled as my “typical” child since her younger sister has Down syndrome. And yet- she’s the one that I find the most challenging. Both girls are extremely spirited and intelligent, confident and persistent. How to help her understand the structure our world/society imposes without crushing her tender spirit is something I struggle with. We’re so connected and yet that does not equal compliance. Now we have a new little girl just shy of 3 months and some days I wonder how we’ll all grow up together! Cheers to you and yours!
Hi there Cole – yes, there is so much to this art of parenting, isn’t there? So hard to find the right balance of tender and loving and structure and support. The age old trial and error method seems to be the route we’ve found ourselves on. Along with a very loving Father God who patiently teaches me more through my kids than I’ve learned before. Blessings on your own discoveries.
I love this post! I have two children that i just don’t get. I love them very much, but I have to work at learning who they are. I have to choose to love them for the person God has chosen them to be, not the person I want them to be.
When my son was a toddler, I found myself in the same position. I did not like my son. I, too, prayed. I knew that God had created Him to be exactly who He wanted him to be. And so, as I confessed that I knew he was just who God wanted Him to be, I also confessed that I didn’t understand him and I didn’t really like him. I asked God to teach me to delight in my child the way that I knew He delighted in him. And He did. And now that he’s 12, I see that God is making him into a man of God. What a gift….
Thank you for having the courage to say out loud what many of us are going through. You are a blessing, and your honesty is appreciated!
For some reason, I was meant to open this link today! Just yesterday my daughters school called me to say she had hit out at other kids…I ended up crying on the way home. Angry with how things were turning out, angry with how I have been feeling overwhelmed and lost and confused as my daughter exerts her frustration on anything in sight. And yet when I watch her sleeping at night, I am filled with awe, the tiredness and frustration subsides and I remember that despite the fact that she is only a month off three, she is still my baby, she is still fragile in ways she cannot voice.
Thank-You Thank-You Thank-You
Your words could not have come at a more perfect time. My oldest is 7 and it hurts my heart so deeply to feel the way I have been about him lately. The whining, antagonizing his younger siblings and crying fits have been pushing me to the edge. I pray for him now, but you nailed it, my prayers need to be on fire, constant and passionate. I am there Lisa Jo and I will take your lead, I will focus those prayers on us both because I am determined to smother this child in like and love until I no longer have breath. Bless you and your little man.
The Lord put your blog in front of my eyes this morning. When my daughter turned 3 I began to see an orneriness in her that was not evident before . . . if I said the sky was blue, she would have to say, “No, Mommy, it’s white.” Most of our interaction was my correcting / lecturing her. Then, after fearful and careful consideration, I began homeschooling her. Two years later, all the positive interaction and input has really helped our relationship. We’ve made way more good memories together, than disciplinary ones. But last week I threw her the most extravagant fairy party for her 7th — I made most everything for it over the course of 2 weeks, and she helped as well. I must admit, I and the other invitees enjoyed it far more than she did. She was hoping all the kids would treat her like a queen (a natural response for any of us with a human nature — that would be MOST of us), and they didn’t. They were just too busy having a good time. She even told me at the end of the party, with a grumpy expression, I didn’t really like this party. We have talked about gratitude, and directing our heart, and she has made a good effort towards a more thankful attitude. But this morning she was out helping her daddy burn old boards and tree branches, and then she perched herself on one of the “toadstool” stumps from the party. I called out to her joyfully, “Hello, my little princess fairy, sitting on your toadstool!” She looked up, then abruptly got up and went and sat on a nearby picnic bench. I must say, it just hurt my heart. AND I HAVE SUCH AN UGLY HEART. God showed me this morning. When I am hurt, I want to hurt back. She came back in and I hardly looked at her or talked to her. Afterall, all she wanted from me was to serve her with a snack or drink. Then I sat down to check email, and saw Ann’s link to your blog. I read, and cried, and prayed, and read and cried some more. God took out his gentle, but capable surgery equipment this morning, and helped me cut away at some gangrenous material around my heart. I went over to my daughter on the couch, my precious 7 year old, just beginning this walk of life, my child who needs to see my unconditional love in order to learn it herself, and I hugged her tight, and told her I loved her so much. Thank you, Lisa-Jo. You have allowed God to use you, to touch many of us very, very deeply.
Very well written. I understand because my red head has emotional outburst. In fact, the other day it was a melt down all day and he went to his room most of the day. Genetics does play a part and so does personality and seeing the world as black and white and wanting justice. His name is Levi and the Bible has a lot to say about the Levites. We continue to teach self-control, but I have also discovered with my guy that red dye and too much sugar set him off. Within 15 minutes of consuming red dye, his body begins to shake and his face contorts and he attacks his brothers and sisters. Everyone is afraid. The best thing we have done is to remove these things from his diet and then we have a normal kid that when he does have emotional outburst, we can calmly discuss self control. I also discovered on youtube -Brain Gym which showed a child making a figure eight. Somehow it resets the brain. I have been told by a friend that this is the sign of God (I think infinity -right?) anyhow on occasion I have had my son use a crayon and draw that figure eight and watch him calm down….quite amazing. And of course, prayer and lots of hugs.
Love what you wrote and can identify as we had to go through the process in our home.
I know that this post is quite old, but I wanted to tell you how much it has meant to me reading it. I had to read it in two tear-filled sessions, b/c halfway through I was sobbing. I have felt this way many, many times over the last 7 years, and have felt so guilty. Of all the taboo things we DON’T talk about, this is one of those pretty high up on the list. Thank you for your honesty, and for reminding me of the power of prayer over our children. It’s silly how often I can forget this truth. And I pray God continues to bless you through your son.
It is so refreshing to hear honesty in the Christian community of mothers. If only we would all be more open, sharing our struggles and our victories and how God brings us through both. I can so identify with your post. Thought I was the only one who dealt with that. Felt horrible for not having all the warm, fuzzy, “mom” feelings I’m supposed to have for my first-born. I love her fiercely but how desperately I wish the “like” came easily as it does with her siblings. Now she’s 10 and I’m aware of how quickly time has gone and the challenges ahead of us and I must make some changes before we head into those rough waters. I love the idea of writing her story, just as I’ve been numbering God’s grace, putting to list both the things I see in her and the things I want to see in her. Thanks for giving me a place to start my journey!
Wow.
When my younger brother was 3, he attended a pre-school where they had a special tent set up for him for when he was raging.
Now he’s 15 going on 16, and the journey has been long and hard. What a difference it might have made if our Mum had had insight enough at those crucial times; if she hadn’t been so alone in a struggle that no one seemed to understand.
Now he has finally come through, grown into someone who mostly controls those outbursts, can live peaceably.
How interesting to note the similarities: his compassion, matching that of your son; the tenderness played out against fierce, frightening anger.
Thank you for this beautiful post. What an incredible confession – one my own mother had to make, had to live through, grow through. It is so good to know that we aren’t alone in these struggles, the memories that still sting just a little.
Wow. So moving. I am sitting here looking at my two little boys thinking that I haven’t been spending enough time liking them lately. I’m also moved to feel compassion for the moms of some of the {very challenging} little boys I taught in VBS a couple of weeks ago. Thank you.
Tears are filling eyes right now. My heart wants to burst. I am here, right here in this space right now. I needed this so badly but didn’t know it. My almost 3 year old son has been hard to like, hard to enjoy, hard to smile at. Thank you for this honest and beautiful post. I will face tomorrow with fresh eyes and remember to enjoy him again.
oooo I just love love love this…and am so glad to find you through a friend who sent me one of your posts.