Brotherhood Thoughts

I can't tell you just how happy it makes me to see all of my prayers (4 years worth) coming to fruition.  Beckahm and Amari's relationship has blossomed into something I have yearned so deeply for.  Sure they argue and fight and annoy each other on a daily basis, but the love, the tenderness, they care they have for each other runs so deep now.

Just to see Beckahm, after his soccer game when he could have ran back on the field to kick the ball with this teammates, run over and say "I just want to see Amari" (and that is just ONE of the many examples), just shows me how much they care for one another.


A few things that have improved greatly that I love seeing—it truly warms my heart:

• They have loved sleeping in the same room together
• They play now together multiple times a day.  I love seeing and hearing their imaginations at work.
• They miss each other when the other is away
• When they have playdates with other kids they still include one another and love being around one another. 
• When one is hurt or sad the other (usually Amari) will go and check on them and shows concern
• They encourage and support each other in their interests (Amari will clap for Beckahm at his soccer practices, and Becks will encourage Amari when he is trying to learn to ride his bike)

It moves me to tears to know that I WAS INSPIRED to keep Beckahm at home this year.  It has been such a difficult decision because I never want to hold him back, but I can see answers to why it was necessary.  I feel like Beckahm is acting more his age—his curiosity about age appropriate things are coming out; he is so much kinder and inclusive of his brother (when he was going to K he came across like he was better than Amari in a lot of ways; he was just simply maturing too fast).  I am so proud of Beckahm for helping me out, for loving his brother and for being such a great leader in our home.  I feel like Amari is getting better with his speech and that he growing up more and more as Beckahm is more attentive to him and makes him feel like he is valuable and important.  I hope this brotherhood and this love that they share continues as they grow up.

We did have a pretty scary moment.  This park is HUGE and towards the end of the day I lost Amari.  Becks and I went looking for him for 20 minutes and couldn't find him.  Becks started to cry, scared something happened to his brother, and I was panicking.  I told Beckahm we needed to say a prayer as it was getting dark soon.  We went over to another area and a long ways a way Becks spotted him.  He had seem some young boys running for track and he decided to up and follow them.  They were, THANKFULLY, trying to help him find his mom.  I am grateful I had that experience, despite it terrifying me.  Beckahm was able to learn, once again, of the power of prayer. And it made him realize just how much he loved his brother. 

They are officially sharing a room; Amari has slept so much better being comforted knowing his brother is right there beside him :)

The Epiphanies of Motherhood

The Epiphanies of Motherhood (yes they come once in a blue moon) 

An epiphany I had yesterday as I'm getting frustrated doing Beckahms hair before school for the umpteenth time, and as I'm trying to put Amari—who's endlessly fidgeting—down for a nap: our eyes are our little ones window to the world. It's through our eyes they learn what love is, tolerance, compassion, self-esteem, light-heartedness, kindness, respect, confidence....

As they grow and venture into this great big world I pray that they will choose to associate with good friends who make good choices,and not mimic the behavior(s) of those making poor choices. Yet, what kind of behavior are the mimicking from me—the person they are around nearly 24 hours a day for the first 4 years of their life? 

Parenting is the hardest job I've ever added to my resume simply because it causes me to take a step back and self-reflect—on a daily basis— how my habits, my example, my attitude, my behavior, affects my children—whether positively or negatively. 

Parenthood is also one of the greatest jobs I've ever added to my resume because it's the job that pushes me to change, to grow, at such an accelerated rate—sometimes from 0-60 in a matter of minutes (literally).

When my child looks into my eyes do they see the world as an annoying, frustrating, sad, anger-ridden, unfulfilling, busy and stressful place? Or do they learn that the world is kind, patient, tolerant of their mistakes, humorous, forgiving, and full of unconditional love? 

Sometimes (okay let's be real, most the time), it's hard to remember that the saying "treat someone the way you would like to be treated" applies to children just as well as adults. Would I then want someone rushing me around all of the time? Would I want someone so busy and stressed to get from one place to the next that there's no time or place to experience the "in betweens?" Would I want someone always taking away my freedom, and not allowing me to make mistakes so I can learn the power of choice and consequence? Would I want someone being so guarded and fearful of allowing me to venture out and explore this world by myself, on my own time, at my own beat? Would I want someone that makes me feel like I'm an annoyance? Like my voice doesn't matter? Like there are bigger, more important things to be doing in this great big world than being "stuck" with being in the presence of me? Would I want someone to tell me (reassure me rather) that my fears, my frustrations do not matter? 

As Amaris wiggles started to dissipate and as he calmly, quietly searched my eyes before drifting to sleep, I knew this epiphany was teaching me that sometimes the disconnects between us and our children happen (much like us with our Father in Heaven when we forget to get on our knees) because the window is foggy—we've forgotten to clear away the smudges and the smears, to take moments like these to be present with our children, to connect with them, to let them know we believe in them, we love them, that no matter how small they are that they DO matter. Sometimes we need to pause to make the window a little more clear, more visible: to be the correct reflection of the world we want our children to see, to BELIEVE, to KNOW.

Late Night Epiphanies

Why my late night epiphanies/confessionals always seem to come at the most inopportune time—when my "little angels" are in a "perfected state" (aka asleep), and my drool has a date with my pillow (aka exhaustion)—is a question that will haunt me till the day I retire from mothering (aka NEVER).

Okay enough with the "aka's". The epiphany I had as I lay in this pitch black room next to my comatose husband (who is richly blessed to give in to slumber) is:

Look for the opportunities each day presents to either ignore, tear down, OR build up the character of your children.

In my often failed attempt to do better at this thing called parenting, I realize just how furtive these moments are—how numerous, yet how quickly they come and go (from an accidental spill, to a quarrel with a sibling).

It is time to revamp the new year resolutions, and make it my mid-new year goal to take a moment—before the moment ignites a reaction— and process the situation, to ask "as their mother—the person who wants them to succeed most in their life, the person that wants to help them grow into GREAT men (cause God knows we need GREAT men in this world)—is my reaction conducive to lifting them up? Is it helping define their character? To build trust, love, and respect?"

I know it's a goal I will most likely fail at miserably at least another 100 times before 8am tomorrow morning, but the epiphany has at least sparked an interest, a resolution, to proactively do better at loving these little men God so kindly entrusted to my care.

—Sleepless in Alabama signing off

#theepiphaniesofmotherhood