I remember watching a reality TV show on which there was a mom separated from her family as she worked to lose weight. She kept going on and on about how much she missed her kids. At the time, it irritated me, as a person who was childless.
Geez, you’ll get to see them again, lady. Please focus on the competition.
It got to the point that I’d tune out whenever her segment was on.
Now, as a mom with 3 squishable little ones, I am extending an internet apology to her. I truly did not understand.
I am away from 2 of my own children and the struggle has been real. I don’t think I have ever missed another person as much as I miss them. I didn’t think I was capable of feeling this way about another person, really. I have always felt that I am a person who doesn’t mind being alone, and I am never lonely. But, I miss their little kissable cheeks. I miss scooping them up and squishing them in my arms. How unbelievable it is to me that there are 3 people on Earth that hold the keys to my heart – unconditionally.
I want so much for them in the way that any parent wants what’s best for their child. There are so many things I want to teach them, but I am also afraid of “messing them up.”
One of my biggest fears is that I won’t do a good enough job of teaching them how to have the self esteem necessary to get through any challenges they may face.
I wonder what resources are available to help my Autistic child when the time comes to talk about bullying and inappropriate touching.
I want to ensure that I don’t neglect the twins by focusing so much on the needs of their Autistic brother that they feel left out.
I don’t want to lose myself in the process of trying to make sure they are okay. And it’s important to me that they are exposed to a loving partnership between me and their Father.
As a black person, its important to me that they are proud of the skin they’re in. That they understand that at times, the deck may be stacked against them, but by their own actions and determination will they overcome the obstacles in their lives. There is no ceiling they can’t break through. No door they can’t open.
I try putting myself in their shoes as they’re growing up. What were some of the things that happened to me that I didn’t like? What would I have changed about my own upbringing?
I don’t want to be so hard on myself, but I feel this is important enough to consider the path I’ll take to help them. They are relying on me to teach them how to survive life, and I don’t want to let them down.
I’ll remember to show myself compassion as I navigate through this new territory. I understand that it won’t always be smooth sailing, but I hope to make it through unscathed, in one piece.
Any wisdom you’d like to share?