I want so badly to write something amazing right now. I feel like I rarely get the chance to sit quietly, uninterrupted for any length of time, with just me, my thoughts and my keyboard. So here I am, waiting for my thoughts to pour forth, waiting for all that has been crammed inside to be vomited out. Instead, I’m blank. Well, not completely blank. The magazines across the way keep catching my eye. What do I care about Max’s The Bootcamp Issue, or Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Vanity Fair? And yet my eyes continue to travel and gaze. Bummer…let down…dumb.
I also can’t keep my eyes off of the mother and her son who are having a go at it in the coffee shop. The son is probably 9 years old. I’ve only caught snippets, but what I can gather is he isn’t wanting to do something that he’s committed to doing. And the mom is trying to teach him/ explain to him how lame that is, how disrespectful that is to someone he cares about to bail on them. He’s cried, he’s crawled onto her lap, she’s given him a back rub all in the midst of talking through this lesson. Apparently, she didn’t convince him of his error, he’s sticking to his guns, so she finally played the mom card, and is insisting that he go even though he has a bad attitude about it. Ah, parenting!
Here I thought I was going to spend the afternoon thinking about something NOT related to Gram, but all I can think about is what just played out before me. I’m evaluating how well I think the mom handled the situation (I’ve concluded brilliantly), how I might handle that same situation, the conviction and yet calm in which she was schooling him. How his tears didn’t break her resolve, and yet how her arms were always open for him to crawl up into. Quite a beautiful picture of parenting, actually. They have gone, but I wish I could have let her know that I was impressed, that she is doing a great job, that I wasn’t staring to be rude or make her feel self-conscious, that I’d actually love to talk to her about what it’s been like to raise this boy.
Dustin and I are discovering regularly that we are no longer simply caretakers of Gram, we have officially entered the parenting stage. Tantrums, though fairly mild, have begun, the word “No” is used pretty frequently, and we find ourselves clapping for the simplest of achievements (“Where’s doggie Gram?”). I love that Gram is a mama’s boy and I pray that continues throughout his life, even when Dad is so much cooler and more fun to be with. I pray for wisdom and discernment for those moments of tough love. I’m excited to celebrate all of Gram’s accomplishments, no matter how small.
In all honesty, parenting scares and excites me. I’m nervous for the hard lessons that we will have to let Gram experience and yet excited to get to pass on whatever wisdom we have been taught. I’m excited to see his sweet personality continue to develop, for him to learn respect and courage and loyalty. I’m excited to tell him about Jesus, for him to pray for those he loves, for him to discover his own tender heart.
I guess right now I’m not really in the mood to reflect on the past or process anything. Rather, I’m anticipating the future, I’m pondering the present, and I’m loving the opportunity to sit in this coffee shop alone and cherish these things in my heart.
