My man and I have held our positions as parents for nearly a decade now. And it simply hasn't gotten any easier over the years.
I will be the first to admit that I do not love the baby stage. There is something about this little pudgy being that is cute, but then there is this needy, clingy, crying thing that I don't see the beauty in. So when my babies were all, well, babies, I was wishing them on to the next stage.
Then came toddlerhood...it's not a great 'hood to hang out in some days. There have been many times that I have felt lead to call in back-up while in this dangerous 'hood. The personality explosion that occurs during the toddler years is just mind-boggling to me. I mean, seriously, there have been many days that my then 2- or 3-year-olds have acted more like teenagers, and during those days I was wishing them on to the next stage.
Oh, then along comes preschool, and grade school, and girls, and boys, and drama, and blah, blah, blah. And all the sudden that wrinkly pudgy being is 9 going on 10, and wrestling for a bit of independence.
We have 2 bird families that have lovingly decided to nest in peak of our front entry-way. I sent my man on a mission to rid our cedar of them, but upon arrival he discovered that there were baby birds in one, and eggs in the other. Well, seriously, who in their right mind could kill a nest of baby birds, fresh out of their eggs. Not me. So the birds and eggs stayed. A few days later we were getting ready to leave and noticed that one of the baby birds had fallen out of the nest, and was now struggling to survive on it's own on the not-so-cozy concrete directly below it's home.
I wish I had taken a picture.
It would go right here.
But I didn't. However, the mental picture I took of that bird has stuck in my mind ever since. As well as the lessons that God is trying to teach me through it.
My son, who is trying to fly-the-coup isn't so different than the bird I saw floundering last week. For some reason, in his mind, he is ready. Ready to spread those wings and do all sorts of things that this mom isn't quite ready for yet. And my job, as his mom, is to know when to let him fly, and when to hold him under my wing.
When Holden was just a baby we were given a book by Dr. Dobson that had this little kite analogy in it, which I have copy and pasted below for your reading enjoyment...{have a kleenex handy}
Humorist Erma Bombeck described this difficult process in terms that were helpful to me.123 She said that the task of raising kids is rather like trying to fly a kite on a day when the wind doesn't blow. Mom and Dad run down the road pulling the cute little device at the end of a string. It bounces along the ground and shows no inclination of getting off the ground.
Eventually, and with much effort, they manage to lift it fifteen feet in the air, but great danger suddenly looms. The kite dives toward electrical lines and twirls near trees. It is a scary moment. Will they ever get it safely on its way? Then, unexpectedly, a gust of wind catches the kite, and it sails upward. Mom and Dad feed out line as rapidly as they can.
The kite begins pulling the string, making it difficult to hold on. Inevitably, they reach the end of their line. What should they do now? The kite is demanding more freedom. It wants to go higher. Dad stands on his tiptoes and raises his hand to accommodate the tug. It is now grasped tenuously between his index finger and thumb, held upward toward the sky. Then the moment of release comes. The string slips through his fingers, and the kite soars majestically into God's beautiful sky.
Mom and Dad stand gazing at their precious "baby," who is now gleaming in the sun, a mere pinpoint of color on the horizon. They are proud of what they've done--but sad to realize that their job is finished. It was a labor of love. But where did the years go?
That is where you are today--standing on tiptoes and stretching toward the sky with the end of the string clutched between your fingers. It's time to let go. And when you do, you'll find that a new relationship will be born. Your parenting job is almost over. In its place will come a friendship that will have its own rewards.
Remember: The kite is going to break free one way or the other. It's best that you release it when the time is right!After I got done bawling after reading this, I looked at my man and told him that I will not be releasing any string of any child that comes out of my body. Never. Ever.
Never say never.
Now, I'm pretty sure that my man and I have a few years before we have to completely let go of the string. But this past month, the winds have been blowing our oldest kite hard, and we have had to figure out how to let some string out, without letting go.
I'm pretty sure that the baby bird I mentioned earlier wasn't quite ready to leave the nest and be on it's own. I won't tell you what became of that bird, just focus on the kite here.
Then yesterday as my daughter was reading to me, something blue caught my eye on our deck.
An egg had fallen out of the nest that the birds built on our back deck. (I would like to note here that they have 5,327 trees 100 yards away, yet they choose to build a nest on our house. How sweet.) I could take this cracked egg analogy so many different directions...but I like to think that it was God's way of reminding me to not let my little "bird" leave before he is really ready.
Don't give up.
Don't give in.
Keep on loving him exactly the way he needs to be loved, so that one day, when he is ready, I will be able to let go of his string and let him fly.
Please note that although sometimes parenting is
