Choices in Parenthood

Choosing to be a parent is an interesting thing.  Ben and I have known people who have chosen to have kids right away and people who choose to wait.  We also know people who struggle with fertility and people who have decided that they will never become parents.  In my years of grown-up-hood, I've come to learn that it's never alright for me to judge anyone for any of these decisions, despite what my own opinion may be.  I don't know anyone as well as I know myself and Ben.  I don't know what their situation and life is like.

The only thing I know is what I have experienced as a mother.

It is both dark and light, joyous and saddening, hard and easy.

But I chose it.  And I don't regret it.  And I never will.

One thing I love doing is reading other people's blogs.  I love learning about their experiences with parenthood, as each is a unique journey with similar milestones along the way.  You can both relate and be completely taken by surprise by the way another child is both the same and different from your own.

One of the things I love observing is age.  Let me tell you, Lily and Skyler almost convinced us to stop having kids altogether when they were young.  But we knew deep down that we weren't done, which is why I had to fight to keep my body able to become pregnant again.  (If you don't know what I'm talking about you can read about it here and here.)  But it was simply their age that had me struggling.  I thought to myself, when I can understand them, it will be so much easier.

Fast forward a little bit.  I can definitely understand them now.  A little too well, actually.  I know the way Lily avoids eye contact when she's lying and I know the Hulk-like face that Skyler pulls when he's about to throw a tantrum.  I am grateful for the ability to communicate now, I just never realized before how nice it was to not know everything that's going on inside their heads.  For example, last Saturday Ben was gone for a better part of the day doing scout training with his boys.  Since I was by myself, I strategized that the kids would be easier on me if I made it a fun day.  So I did.  I let them do everything they love most.  We colored, read, shopped, played outside, and even had a picnic.  While it sounds great on paper, the whole day was full of phrases like, "Mom, you are so mean," "Mom, you make me mad," etc.  When we were out shopping and I took too long to compare two products, Lily shouted, "MOM!  YOU ARE SO STUPID!"  

When Ben got home he found the kids alive but I was locked in the bathroom sobbing.

I chose this.  I chose this.

Then I think, I chose a lot more than this.  I chose to come to earth.  I chose to have trials.  I chose to experience the kind of happiness that I had never experienced before.  I knew it would come with a price, but I knew the price was more than worth it.

To me, that choice was a lot like choosing to become a parent.  The choice and the consequences are strikingly similar.

My kids have stretched me and pushed me and pulled me and taught me more than anyone else in the world.  Since I have become a parent, I have learned a whole lot more about myself, my limits, and my choices than I ever have before.  And I can either let that take me up or down.  Again, it's my choice.

I can choose to dwell on the days when my kids yell at me in public or I can dwell on the days like today when my son refuses to leave my side even though I'm sick and contagious, telling me things like, "I just love you, Mom."  Well I "just" love my kids, too.

It's a weird kind of love, that's for sure.  But in it I get to see just a little glimpse of how Heavenly Father feels about us.  We frustrate Him and please Him while He teaches us and blesses us.

I am grateful I made my choice.  And no matter what challenge I experience with my kids in the days to come, I will never regret it.

I took this clip of the kids a few days ago when they were supposed to be eating lunch.  They didn't know I was recording until Lily caught me halfway through, but I wanted to capture their true personalities.