What Redemption, this parenting love

We have a very set routine for naps and bedtime with our children. One little thing off the routine and Luyana notices big time. A few days ago I was about to rock her for her nap and she kept saying "baby, baby, baby". This is not part of the routine, so I was very interested to see what she would do. I let her down and she went and got her doll, put her in the doll crib, covered it with a blanket and then climbed back into my lap. Then, while still looking at the doll, she said and used sign language to say the word "sad". I wanted to start bawling. Does she think the baby is sad all alone in the crib? Does she somehow see herself in that baby?

Tonight, she again put the baby in the crib, covered her up, but then panicked. She started crying and frantically searching for something (this is not like her at all). Mark called me in to help figure it out. I found the doll's bottle and Luyana lit up. I put the bottle in the bed with the baby and she lost it again, sobbing. Mark and I just looked at each other like, "What is happening here?" I handed her the baby and the bottle and she fed her baby while Mark fed her a real bottle and rocked her to sleep. All the while, I could hear her whimpering on and off. Then I heard her cry out "mommy, mommy!" And my heart broke. How will we reconcile this sadness? Was she even crying for me? Or was it for someone else?

The past few weeks with Luyana has been emotional and HARD. She been testing us more, pushing us away more, going to strangers more. I was lamenting to Mark about it tonight and then I had a light bulb moment. Maybe she is feeling close to us and is really starting to attach and she is afraid, just like the books say. Maybe she is trying to make us mad at her because for her that is more comfortable than affection and love. Maybe she goes to strangers because their "love" is temporary and goes away, while ours is always in her face. Maybe she is pushing away because sometimes it hurts so much to accept the very thing you've always wanted and needed.

The hurt, the fear, the anger, the loss - sometimes it oozes out of every part of her. And it took me awhile to recognize it because sometimes its just looks like defiance, or disobedience, or even charm. Sometimes she fills her mouth with spit, lets it dribble down her chin and comes up to me just to see how I'm going to respond. I don't always respond right, but tonight has really been a wake up call to me. To love MORE. When she lets the spit dribble, hug her and tell her I love her. When she looks and me and then whops her brother over the head with a toy, rock her and sing her lullabies.

Those things aren't natural to me. What feels more natural (and more satisfying, really) is to put her hiney in a timeout. These last 3 months have been some of the hardest in my life. I want so desperately to parent my children in the right way. I want them to be emotionally healthy and strong. I want to be there for them, to not be angry and irritable with them, and to encourage them to be the best they can be. But every day, every single dang day, I fail. One comes up to be held. "I'm cooking, go play." Another dumps their whole lunch on the floor, on purpose, and I loose my cool. I find myself saying "no" way more than I say anything else.

For a while, the feeling of failure was starting to crush me and make me shut down. But I'm starting to learn that it's all a process. I apologize to my kids and tell them I'm sorry. "Sorry mommy got mad and was not nice." Every day I beg God to give me what I need to get through - patience, peace, love. And lately Camden has been saying, "Mommy, you're a good mommy-er." Which, I think, means that he thinks I'm good at being a mommy. Which, I think, means he has a lot of grace and a terrible memory.

So we've been home three months with Luyana and every day is different. I have given up giving up and I'm pressing forward. I might have failures every day, but every day I can try to love more and better. What redemption this parenting love is: failing, forgiving myself, making things right, and moving forward...freeing me and teaching me to press on, and be better, even when it seems like someone else would definitely be better for the job. I will keep pressing on because my biggest hope in life is that when they are adults and look back on their childhoods they will have positive feelings and good memories; that they will still think I was a good "mommy-er". They are both so precious and truly deserve all the love, patience, and peace in the world.