Before I had kids, I used to imagine what it was like to be a mom. My daydreams were always filled with images of me cooking, reading, laughing, and talking…to my daughters.
Having boys was a shock to me. Until my twins were about 5, I was at a complete loss: What do I do with these strange boy-creatures?
I didn’t know what they needed, wanted, how their minds worked, or what their little bodies needed (turns out, mostly food, exercise, hugs, and someone listen to them talk about Star Wars).
Then I had two more boy-creatures. And I just threw up my hands, laughed and said, “Well, I know how this goes!”
I couldn’t always laugh though. I went through some dark, confusing years as a young mom. I couldn’t understand my children, or what they needed or how I, as their mother, could meet those needs. Their tiny male minds and bodies baffled me.
Having boys what not what I expected. And I had to come to grips with my expectations and let them go in order to fully love and enjoy the children that God had given me.
We expect our kids to be like us–to like the same things we did when we were kids, to have similar abilities in sports or academics–to be little mini-me’s.
My husband was identified as gifted as a child. School was always easy for him–in fact, he was bored through most of his formal schooling. He never had to do homework; he never had to study.
He slept through his entire semester of biology and still got a 4 out of 5 on the AP Biology Exam.
He expected that his sons would follow in his footsteps (not in the sleeping, just the smarts).
Expectations are hard to root out.
And we have struggled.
…struggled with our disappointments.
…struggled with our guilt at being disappointed.
…struggled with our expectations.
…struggled to seek, understand, love, and accept the child we have.
There’s a grief in that. And that grief is painful.
But it’s pride that’s wounded.
Isn’t that what expectations are? Puffed up daydreams of what we hope our lives will look like?
Our expectations had to be rooted out of our hearts in order for true love and acceptance of our child to flourish.