I Almost Wished My Son Away

A few weeks ago, I took my son to the playground. He is 2 years old and quite independent and rowdy when he’s comfortable in his surroundings. We’ve been to this playground a few times, so I figured I’d have time to chill on the bench while he played. When we arrived, a dad was there with his two kids. I sent Caleb off to play, sat on the bench, and even pulled out my book. I glanced up occasionally to make sure he was ok, but didn’t engage much in his play. Probably 5 minutes into it, he came over to see me. He wanted me to come play. I went with him and showed him where to climb up onto the structure and where the slides were. I pointed to the other kids playing and even went down a slide with him. I then went back to my bench. Again, I had only read about one paragraph when he came back to join me. “Snack.” he said as he climbed onto the bench. We shared some yogurt raisins and water. After the food was gone, I suggested he go play with his new friends. “No. Mommy come!”

It was at this point that I almost wished my son away.

I found myself thinking, “Ugh! Why can’t you just go play like a normal boy?! Where is your sense of adventure? Why do I always have to climb up there with you? There are other children to play with!”

I thank the Lord those thoughts were supremely bitter-tasting, because otherwise I may not have noticed the slippery slope until it was too late. The instant they flashed through my head, my heart began grieving over a moment of love lost for my child.

How on earth could I wish my son was different than he was uniquely created to be? How can I make every effort to teach, train, and guide him into maturity all the while failing to accept who he is?

My moment of weakness re-framed a few Truths for me.

1. I am not a bad mom. I am, however, a sinner in need of big doses of grace on a daily–moment by moment–basis.
2. My son is normal. He is normal in the way that every kid is different. Who he is, is a gift given to me. When I remember this, I am able to delight in him and enjoy his antics. Even if it means climbing on the playground with him instead of reading on the bench.

To my mom and teacher friends, take heart. Moments of self-centered thoughts and attitudes are not failures. They are hiccups. Grow, learn, and keep going. You’re doing better than you give yourself credit for!

I’d love to know how you bounce back from these momentary lapses! Leave a comment and share what truths you need reminding of now and again.