Journal Entry 53: Parenting Glimpse

Jesus, if you’re not in it, I don’t want it.

Journal Entry 53: Parenting Glimpse

I've been wanting to write this for a while, and I think I'm finally ready. There's a humor and a some random bits of chaos to parenting that few who aren't parents would know about. One example is odd, and yet hilarious, where you find yourself cheerleading a poop session for your pottytraining 2yr. Old. Chaos moments can be anything such as walking into the room to see your toddler standing on top of their dresser and you can't figure out how they got there. Or when your kid decides to cover themselves in a piles of baby wipes, an entire case that used to be neatly packed under their bed.

Thanks to social media we get to see glimpses of parenting moments a lot more often these days. A popular one out there now is babies covered in baby powder, sometimes the family pet too. Our family of nine children certainly gets its share of moments. Sometimes these moments are funny, sometimes scary, and sometimes as a parent you just have to cringe, apologize, and accept that life will never be boring.

Lesson 1: Don't leave your words open to a child’s interpretation.

My oldest, Lil, at the time only around the age of 5, taught me this lesson. We were all outside enjoying the weather, a neighborhood kid, little boy about Lil’s age, had joined us. I was fixing something, when Lil came up to me, mad tears on her cheeks with a tiny storm of an expression that I thought cute. She told me the neighborhood boy had taken her toy. Ok, I thought, not a big deal.  A chance to have a learning moment.

As a father of two daughters at the time, I wanted my girls to be able to take care of themselves. We live in a world that is sinful and broken, and I don't want my girls relying on a man to handle their problems. So I told Lil to go get her toy back, and went back to fixing whatever project had me busy that day. I thought Lil, a bit rough and tough that she was,  would demand the toy over, and maybe wrestle it from the boy’s fingers if need be. She was bigger than him. I thought this, but it didn't happen.

Lil, barely to my waist while standing on her toes, took a different approach. I had to walk the boy home, with my daughter in tow, to explain to the dad that his son had a giant line across his face that was bruising fast, because my daughter had decided to hit him with a pole. Incase you're wondering, the dad was cool, but the boy never came back over. Lil did get her toy back.

Lesson 2: Sometimes it's just safer to lock their door.

Upto four kids at this point with another arriving or soon to be conceived, not sure, I got a very scary lesson. Waking up to your kids full of energy and you’re not even close to that energy level is everyday parenting. I would bee line my way to the coffee pot, and I still do. On that ordinary morning, bee lining my way to the coffee pot, Ryder, my youngest son, scared the sleepiness right out of me. I found him, chopping knife in hand, with a pack of popsicles, trying to open them. Yall, he was barely 2yrs old.

This toddler of mine had gotten out of his crib, went to the kitchen, climbed the counter, and got to work. Ryder, impressive as a fantasy magic novel, had tried to make coffee, had the flour out with half in a bowl with several broken eggs, and had moved on to the freezer and a sweet dessert by the time I walked in. I still can't fathom how my toddler managed all of it. The coffee pot was on, but he'd poured the grounds into the pot with the water. He'd cracked the eggs into the bowl with a pile of flour, I'm guessing he was thinking of making cake. His mom baked cakes at the time, so that's my only clue where Ryder  had gotten the idea. And then, by the protection of God, Ryder managed to climb off the counter with a knife and was trying to use it to get to the popsicles. I was terrified at first, but once knife was removed from son’s hands, I was incapable of being anything but impressed.

That afternoon I turned the doorknob around Ryder’s bedroom door and locked it. I had to turn it around, because he knew how to unlock it. He's a smart one. These days I have two baby gates that I built that guard entry ways, and the toddlers room has another baby gate that locks. Though I was impressed with Ryder, I didn't want any chance of that happening twice.

Lesson 3: Don't underestimate the resolve of a child.

My princess/lawyer/critic came to me with an argument of why she should have a phone. She was 9, and I don’t give my kids phones until they’re in their teen years. The problem with princess is that she doesn’t give up, and she likes a good argument. Somehow, I ended up telling her she could have a phone, if she could pay for it. Before you think I made it too easy, she had to also be able to keep up with the monthly payments for the subscription. This was before Mint mobile, which is amazing.

There I was thinking I’d won the situation. Princess found the cheapest smart phone I didn't even know existed, and then researched her way to a monthly plan that at the time was ridiculously cheap. I was barely surviving to pay my own phone bill, and my nine year-old was proving better at budgeting than me. She worked minor chores and some family side jobs, got her phone, and managed to maintain the monthly payments. I was humbled and defeated by my own child.

Lesson 4: Blessings can come with trials/God lessons.

Raine, my daughter, scared me in a way only a child can do a parent. I've been held at gun point, and I kept my wits about me. I've been attacked by large dogs, and I kept my wits about me. I've been in car crashes and sickness that threatened to kill me, and I kept my wits about me. God taught me faith, and destroyed my self reliance, when he blessed me with Raine.

Raine, still in her mother's womb, was diagnosed to either be born a stillborn or greatly mentally handicapped. There was a large, dark, spot on the backside of her head where her brain was supposed to be. For months, every week, we went into the doctor’s office, a specialized doctor, and got told the same thing. I think this played a large part in what finally broke my former wife and our marriage. It almost broke me, but somewhere in the fear of it all, I let Jesus have me. Everyone at my job was praying for us, our church, our friends’ churches, we had support in the only way you can support such a situation. Still, the pregnancy was a gauntlet for me and even more so for Josie. God, for reasons he only knows, didn't let the doctor's get the last say.

Raine was born completely healthy. She's 12yrs. Old at the time of writing this, and is a blessing with the emotional chaos that is the preteen age. She's my miracle child, my answered prayers, and she's a life lesson in faith over self-reliance.

Lesson 5: Never say your last kid is your last kid.

Rose and her mother, Rainy, came into my life just shy of six years ago. I was a surviving, single, father of five kids and I had been for seven years at this point. Though I didn't mind female company for fun, I wasn’t looking for a companion, and I certainly didn't desire a wife. (My first marriage was bad enough to make me think marriage wasn't for me.) Once again, God proved me wrong.

Rainy, something magical about her, still magical about her years later, gets my attention and lowers my defenses. Before I knew what was happening, I was courting Rainy with every bit of cheesy but genuine romance I had. Rose didn't help much either, because she was cute, silly, and for the most part a good baby. Some babies can warn you off with all their tantrums and extraness, but Rose is smart. She waited until I married her mother, before showing me just how extra she could be. The girl is off the charts smart, has the energy of a nuclear power plant, and can't seem to stop asking questions. She's awesome, and we love her, but it sure is quieter once she goes to bed.

You kind of know the result of Rainy, as she's my wife now. I thought I was finished having children. I had 5, that was more than enough. God, again,  proved me wrong. Our 9th child just turned 8 months old, and she's supposed to be the last child, please, please.

Lesson 6: I don't stand a chance.

Even on my own as a single dad with five kids, I didn't feel like I was out numbered. When Rainy became my wife and Rose my 6th child, I still felt fairly good about being in control. I was so very wrong. I had always been wrong. It's been brought to my attention that my daughter's manipulate the mess out of me. My wife revealed this to me, and I was shocked.

Men, dad's of daughters and husbands of wives, good luck. I've been shown just how easy it is to be played by a woman of any age. I tell my wife that I now just assume I'm being played, by her, and by my 7 daughters. I also tell her that I expect her to warn me when the manipulation from my daughters is getting out of hand. Nala, our 4yr. Old, I know, has me wrapped around her little finger. I’m aware that my wife is probably manipulating me too, but I can’t catch it from my kids, much less a grown woman.

Lesson 7: Sassiness just comes from, at least partly, from DNA.

Syl is a short, thick, 2yr. Old with more sass than anyone in the entire house. Her auntie is the same way with a touch of goofiness to it. Syl’s mother, my wife, is also sassy, by typically when annoyed and not feeling goofy. Syl I think inherited both types and then some. She's 2, and yet just last night the girl had hand on hip, the other half raised at shoulder level, head tilt present, and was sassing me like she was my parent. I really think it's in the DNA, because it's in her siblings too.

Lesson 8: Baby's are an example of God’s cunning.

I can be having a stressful moment, a stressful day, and Ember, our youngest, can look at me, giggle at me, and my heart melts. I love her, and yet she’s the most selfish of them all, seeing as she's a baby. Babies have this unique power over us that doesn't make any real sense. They take away our sleep, destroy our budget, cry and poop randomly throughout the day, and we love them for it.

Lesson 9: Shut-up and Listen

          I learned this one most recently, and it was by my 17yr. old Reid. I have been told I am bad at conversation, like sit down and talk, conversation, with my kids. All of my older ones agree that I am bad at talks with them. One of my biggest fallouts in the father to child talks is that I don’t stop and listen. I listen, yes, but I don’t just listen, try to understand. I listen, and then, halfway through the talk, I inject my fixes, my frustrations, my accusations, or so on. The point is I don’t fully listen, and while I’m supposed to be listening I tend to force my own thoughts and ideas in. This tends to kill the whole talk. This lesson isn’t one I have a problem with; when, it comes to adults. I tend to listen more and talk less; when other adults are talking (if it’s not drama or bs). Yet with my kids, I was trying to control the conversation, control how to fix said problem, and so I was not actually listening. This is a good lesson I hope others learn a lot faster than I have.

          Kids are life teachers. I’m 42yr. old, I’ve got 9 kids from 8 months old to 23yrs. Old, and I’m still learning from them.

Trust that Jesus Loves You.