It astounds me how fragile I am. Astounds and frightens me. How easily overwhelmed I get with things that are not, in the big scheme of things, all that tragic or devastating.
My boys have started middle school, and it has thrown our world asunder.
The addition in our lives of excessive homework, and activities, and GIRLS, electronics, sassiness, and short attention spans - general pre-puberty - has thrown my delicately balanced world out of whack, and our family is firmly now in uncharted territory. I have subsequently turned into a parent that I don't recognize and certainly don't like. My current approach of barking, yelling, screaming, crying, and punishing makes life fun for no one, and furthermore... doesn't WORK. I saw a quote on a t-shirt the other day that summed up my attitude succinctly. It said "The beatings will continue until morale improves". Yes. That is what I'm doing. I've become completely unraveled.
I think it's a reaction partly to feeling out of control. I can't make good decisions for them. I can't get into their heads and make them care about things they just don't care about, even though I want to so badly. As their responsibility level increases dramatically, my control level decreases dramatically. And left to their own devices, I see one boy struggle, drowning in the sea of it, and one boy swim. One flails his arms and keeps his head just barely above water, and one gives up and sinks without a fight. And I.... I take it all on myself. My failings as a mother, that I have not instilled the proper sisu in this child for him to live up to his potential. And he has SO MUCH potential. What am I doing wrong?
Of course, I know what I'm doing wrong. I'm not supporting him in a way that I would want to be supported, that he deserves to be supported. I am being an anchor, not a life ring. I am berating him. And punishing him. And humiliating him, in an effort to try to get him to CARE. I AM being a horrible mother, pushing him in all the wrong ways. Yesterday, he looked at me and said "I get it Mom. I'm a failure". NO!!! No you're not!!! You are an awesome kid, and I'm so sorry I'm making you feel like you're a failure, but you're NOT, and I want you to realize you're not and ACT like you're not!!! So I've failed not once, but twice... once for not preparing him for this challenge in life, and once more for making him feel horrible about his failure.
We tear each other down far too readily, instead of building each other up. In the grand scheme of things, the ultimate goal is not to pass the sixth grade. The ultimate goal is to grow these children into virtuous Christian men who are strong enough, and humble enough, to accept the gift of Salvation. The goal is to get these children to "the other side". This sixth grade thing is a blip on the radar screen, a challenge to grow from, not be conquered by. And I am letting it effect our entire lives, my entire sense of self-worth as a mother and wife, and the tension is literally tearing our family apart. Good GRIEF. Sixth grade.
What would happen if something truly devastating happened to us??? That scares me, because I see how poorly I'm handling this situation. This petty-in-the-big-scheme-of-things problem.
Time for an attitude adjustment, and a new approach, because this family is stronger than the sixth grade. And it is far more important than the sixth grade, too.
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