If I could go back and talk to my younger self about ways to avoid some of the memories I now regret, this is probably one if the most valuable tidbits of advice I could give her.
"Regan, remember, no matter how old your oldest child is, he still isn't very old."
My husband and I were chatting about how, when our oldest was four and our second child was two, our twins were born. We had two infants to compare to a toddler and his bigger brother. It seemed like Mr. Four Year Old could do just about everything, particularly when side-by-side with two babies who couldn't hold their own heads up!
So of course we treated him that way. We held him to very high expectations, and -- as should have been expected -- he didn't always live up to them. But I hadn't figured out how to handle failure yet, and spent far more time scowling at him, showing disappointment, even shaming that sweet, precious boy instead of helping him up when he fell.
If I could go back and do it over again, I would still expect him to be older and more mature. But in those times when he was just acting normal for his age and mental development, or even less-than...
I would hug him anyways.
I would encourage him to improve rather than punish him.
I would use a kinder voice while explaining the consequences of his actions.
I would tell him that I'd made similar mistakes too.
I would hold his hands while we worked together to clean up the mess or say sorry or whatever needed doing.
I know God let him come first because God knew he was a strong, resilient spirit who could overcome the failures of his parents. I take comfort in that. And sure enough, he's turning into a strapping young man -- taller than me and working to build his muscles so he'll be stronger than me.
And that's how it should be. I'm hoping he'll also be wiser than me. But I realize that he'll never be older than me, so I must always allow for that age gap... and show him mercy where I hope to have mercy shown to me.
I hope he knows how much I love him!
"Regan, remember, no matter how old your oldest child is, he still isn't very old."
My husband and I were chatting about how, when our oldest was four and our second child was two, our twins were born. We had two infants to compare to a toddler and his bigger brother. It seemed like Mr. Four Year Old could do just about everything, particularly when side-by-side with two babies who couldn't hold their own heads up!
So of course we treated him that way. We held him to very high expectations, and -- as should have been expected -- he didn't always live up to them. But I hadn't figured out how to handle failure yet, and spent far more time scowling at him, showing disappointment, even shaming that sweet, precious boy instead of helping him up when he fell.
If I could go back and do it over again, I would still expect him to be older and more mature. But in those times when he was just acting normal for his age and mental development, or even less-than...
I would hug him anyways.
I would encourage him to improve rather than punish him.
I would use a kinder voice while explaining the consequences of his actions.
I would tell him that I'd made similar mistakes too.
I would hold his hands while we worked together to clean up the mess or say sorry or whatever needed doing.
I know God let him come first because God knew he was a strong, resilient spirit who could overcome the failures of his parents. I take comfort in that. And sure enough, he's turning into a strapping young man -- taller than me and working to build his muscles so he'll be stronger than me.
And that's how it should be. I'm hoping he'll also be wiser than me. But I realize that he'll never be older than me, so I must always allow for that age gap... and show him mercy where I hope to have mercy shown to me.
I hope he knows how much I love him!
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