Plans For A Boy

Hopefully I can type this all in one sitting because it's weighing heavily on my heart today, but I know darn well that that can end with one distraction. I need to get this out.

The last couple of weeks have been very hard for me. Not because something big and traumatic happened, or because I'm remembering something crazy that makes me go crazy, but because my hormones have been completely out of whack. About a month ago, my wallet was lost/stolen. That's a hard thing to recover from, from a logistical standpoint, but to add insult to injury, I ran out of my prescription pills about at the same time. Now, I've gone without pills before, but for some reason, this time it was...different. My hormones took a deep, awful swing downward. I was cranky, moody, more than impatient, emotional in a bad way....my tolerance was at its lowest point, at least the lowest it's been in a very long time. Between snapping at Husband and J, I didn't even like myself, but I didn't seem to be able to reign in my total irritation for every little straw added to my haystack. I started waking up, dreading what new, fresh heck J would prepared to me. One morning he'd pooped and gotten his diaper off, and had smeared said poop all over and into his carpet. I spent the entire morning trying to spot clean the smears, and there are still stains that we'll have to use a professional cleaner on. He has also taken to scooting his mattress off his bed, so every morning for a bit I'd walk in there to discover his mattress taking over his floor, toys broken or scattered...it was hard to start a morning out keeping calm after telling him to quit doing that every single day. The lack of respect was, and really, still is, hard to stomach.

But what I'm noticing is that losing my temper serves 2 purposes: to ruin the rest of my day, and to break J's spirits. Now, if you don't know my boy, that sounds sad in and of itself, but if you could see the sheer life that seeps out of this boy, that would break your heart. He'so full of life, I don't want to crush that life out of him because I struggle to control my temper. And so this is what's on my heart.

I was an only child, raised by a single mother. My first child was a girl. I'm super unfamiliar with boys and so my poor son is his mother's guinea pig into the world of raising little boys. Add into that that he's busier, reportedly, than any of my MIL's children (one of whom helped create this tiny tornado) and, to be polite, I have my hands full. On Sunday, our associate pastor preached about grace, giving something to someone that most certainly doesn't deserve it, just because they are loved by the giver. He spoke on God's grace for us...and it hit me. If God gives me grace despite the awful person I am, I need to give J grace, because he's only 2.

My son is part of the future of this country. He has a strong heart, he has intelligence, and as his mother, it is my job to raise him as a God-fearing man that will treat everyone as a precious child of God, with respect and love. I want him to learn to consider his words before saying them, something his mother is still working on doing. I want him to love unconditionally, to make wise choices, and to treat the woman he chooses to love with dignity and respect.