Sunday, May 31, 2015

Who ARE These Little People Anyway??


You live with them every day. Their little face are probably one of the first things you see in the morning and the last things you gaze upon before bed. You gave birth to them for God sake! They lived inside of your body for nine months...they are a part of you, literally. And still, you have to really look at them and pay close attention to know who they are.

I've been thinking about this a lot since writing The Gift a week or so ago. Looking at each of my little dudes and remembering that each of these beings were born with a gift too. That these boys of mine are souls living inside skin and bone, just like me. Underneath the messy hair, dirty nails, and self imposed magic marker body art, they are who they are meant to be. And I am supposed to help guide them to that authentic person. I am supposed to encourage the journey, to support and cheer lead, to redirect and protect. Oh my fricken Lord! I think I need to breath into a brown paper bag because I am hyperventilating.

Sometimes it's easy to forget THIS part of parenting. I mean, we stay so breathless and busy with the feeding, bathing, helping with homework, trying to keep them engaged in sports and music so they don't become even more addicted to watching Pat and Jen Mine Craft videos on You Tube. Always working to keep them safe and healthy and ALIVE. WTF? I totally forgot I was supposed to be helping them uncover their true selves. To be continuously watching with a keen Mom eye to see what new thing light's their fire and brings that amazing, uncensored, completely from the heart smile to their faces. To notice those things that they are just uncannily good at, and not just because they are smart or athletic or are trying really hard, but because they can't help but to be good at it because they were made to be good at it.

So, as this epiphany of my huge mom neglect hits me in the face, I start searching my memory (oh shit, now I'm really in trouble because I have NO memory). What have I missed in the ciaos of our day to day? What hints and clues did these little souls leave their poor struggling mother to help me to help them? Something...anything...come on guys, help your Mamma out here!

My breathing starts to settle and heart starts to slow down as I think of each of my boys. Picturing their sweet faces, both with huge eyes and lovely puffy lips. Both of them so different from one another in personality and temperament. Total Yin and Yang. Oh, thank God, I do have a memory, and I do have that motherly instinct that has noticed some things about each of my mini men that points me towards who they are. As I roll around the thoughts in my mind I remember more and more. Oh there have been so many clues. Thank you boys!

As I have grown and stretched over these last couple of months, it has brought so much change in perspective. Realization about who I am, who we all are. Like a veil was lifted and suddenly I was reminded of a distant deep memory. Not a memory from this life...a memory from my soul, from the One who created my soul.  I've said it before and I'll keep saying it. We are all here for a reason. We all have something special that matters to the world we live in and the people we encounter. My boys have something extraordinary inside of them. They have a fire that burns for something in particular, they have to feel that fire, and love that fire, and share that fire.

 I am a Mamma on fire. I will be their model. I will love them for who they are. I will be there to help them discover and cultivate their gift. I will remind them when they forget or feel burdened by what society thinks they need to be. I will not try to cram them into a neat little box. I will resist the tremendous urge to protect them at all costs, to help them fit in so they don't stand out. I will not remind him that he must where matching socks just because I'm worried some kid at school will call him weird. I will not stifle his natural tendencies towards sensitivity because I am concerned people will think he is a wimp. I will not tell him to stay quiet about things he feels strongly about because I am frightened he will rock the boat. I will be excited to hear about the super cool rock he found, or song he heard, or drawing he made, or math problem he solved, or book he read, or invention he created, or....whatever.

Whatever excites him, will excite me. I will fan the flame and stoke the fire, every day.






2 comments:

  1. Omg! I love this! My eyes are swelling with tears because I have also thought such similar things about my daughters. You put everything so beautifully and in a very eye opening way. Thanks so much for taking the time to post such an intimate entry. I hope to share...

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  2. Oh Anastasia, it gives me goose bumps to know it has touched you. I am so happy to share these things, and hope I can offer readers like you encouragement through my own struggles and triumphs. Just be your true self Mamma, your girls will follow in your footsteps, and we'll have a new generation of Mamma's on Fire! <3

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