Where I Tell You About Panicking. ~ The Grace Between

Where I Tell You About Panicking.

My heart is seizing up in my chest.

I am terrified. 

Of what, you say?

Being a parent.

Now, I realize that this may be a wee bit delayed, seeing how that train left the station on or about July 30, 2007. But it’s happening now.

Let me back up to Thursday. I was that mom, with those kids.

We were at the library paying our gazillion dollar fine updating our account and they would. not. behave. There was banging on the counter, there was wandering off, there was definitely some furniture climbing. I’ll tell what there wasn’t … quiet … because I frequently had to utilize my mom voice {the precursor to yelling, designed to convey the SERIOUSNESS of my request} at one or both of my children to comeheregetoffthatstoptouchingthingsBEQUIET.

If the library had a watchlist, we’d be on it.

I got out to the car, restrained them, and then mentally apologized to all the women I’ve judged over the years. When I got home I seriously googled “can I leash my kid”.

Here’s the thing. Cognitively, I have lots of answers. I can tell you how to parent all day long … {Which I’m sure you’d love to hear, right?} I know stuff.

It’s the doing stuff that’s defeating me. 

Then Friday I got an email about early registration for our homeschooling class next year. That I have to pay for. Soon.

Homeschooling has been … harder then I expected. Different, for sure. And she’s only in kindergarten. So the decision to continue on next year isn’t a given … especially considering next year will include a newborn and a deployed daddy.

I can’t make this decision. At least not yet. And I realize to homeschool or not to homeschool is a whole other blog post/debate that will never end. But in the meantime … I just can’t. The idea of next year with a newborn, a two year old, and a sweet first-grader needing my academic love and attention … all sans daddy … you can’t see me but I am in the fetal position just thinking about it. But the alternative is sending my sweet defenseless first grader out into the cruel world to school without me to protect her every second … I just can’t.

By Saturday I was completely overwhelmed by this parenting/decision making thing. By Saturday night, after attempting to talk through it a little with my sane, non-panicky friend who I secretly believe has all the answers … I. lost. it.

Sitting in the front seat of our new-old minivan, I freaked out. I looked around at the suburban houses placidly staring back at me all orderly and calm and thought about the billions of people haphazardly popping out the babies just like I did up until now … looking and thinking WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? … DON’T YOU KNOW THAT THIS IS IMPOSSIBLY HARD AND WE CAN’T POSSIBLY DO IT RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD BE TERRIFIED JUST LIKE ME BECAUSE WE CAN’T KEEP THEM SAFE FOREVER, IF AT ALL, AND WE ARE DEFINITELY GOING TO SCREW THIS UP I JUST KNOW IT … yeah, I panicked. It was ugly. {Just like these run-on sentences….}

And I’m still breathing hard, sweet talking myself back from the cliff edge … praying.

Thankful for His grace that extends even to my parenting and panicking … and covers the journey my wee ones have to take through this life … independent of me.

Wondering if there’s anyone else like me? And how do you talk yourself down?

 

In the meantime, I’ll keep looking up.

I might leash, or at least stroller-restrain my kid at the library. Don’t judge.

We’ll keep slogging through math and phonics, and read books, and do art.

I will preach consistency to myself daily, and sometimes practice it.

I will be utterly grateful for sane friends, for healthy, happy kids, and for a husband who does not panic and loves me well.

I will cling to His mercies made new every morning …

and pray that my kids won’t remember all this in therapy. 

~M.

{sorry … this might be some excessive navel gazing, even for me …

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