More Alpha. Less Omega.

There are days when this mothering gig gets the best of me.

Days when I’m exhausted from dealing with the same issue.  Again.

Days when I wish I could telepathically communicate that which I’ve learned, from mistakes I’ve made.  So that she doesn’t have to repeat them.

Days when–more than anything else–I’d love to seal her up in a giant bubble.  For safe keeping.

Days when I ache to impart to her the knowledge that I am obstinate only because she is more cherished than the most antique family heirloom.  More important than any health care bill.  More precious than every diamond in every little blue box that ever was.  Ever.

But those things?  Those things don’t always come across.  She sees something far different.

She sees rules.  Hard and fast ones.  Arbitrary ones.

Breakable ones.

Only these ones aren’t.

At least not without consequence.

And believe you me that the consequences I’ve got on the table are so much less permanent than the ones I’m trying to protect her from.

You know how when you were young and you got daddy’s belt or grandma’s flyswatter, or mom’s wooden spoon and each time they said, “this hurts me more than it does you?”

I didn’t believe it then.

Because it hurt.

But they were right.

Because it hurts much more on the other side.

And I’m not talking wooden spoons here.

Yeah.  There are days when this mothering gig gets the best of me.

Days when I wish I could hand it all over.

Days when I wish I could admit that I’m doing my best, but I fear it isn’t good enough.

Days when I’d give anything in exchange for “the answer”.

Days when I wish there was someone who understood.

And then it occurs to me that someone does.

So I hit my knees.  And I let it all out.  And I ask, “to where shall I go?”

And then I wait.

And eventually, I feel better.  If only a little.

And then I remind myself that going to Him should have been my first response.  Not my last resort.

Maybe someday I’ll learn.

Maybe someday she will too.

17 Replies to “More Alpha. Less Omega.”

  1. Girl this is beautiful and a fantastic post. thanks for sharing and being real – you’re obviously an amazing mom!

  2. I hope you’re doing okay and am sending you long distance {{{{hugs}}}}. I had breakfast with a friend the other day and she told me she needed to talk to me about something. Then she made a huge confession, and this is what she said – “I love my husband and my kids but some days I just want to run away.” I sat waiting for her big confession and she couldn’t believe she was the only one who felt that way.
    You’re an amazing mom and your kids are lucky to have you. I think that you know that, although some days it’s clearer than others. xoxo

  3. Amen, Darcie, amen. All moms feel the way you do. Lately running away has sounded really good but I know I’d just turn around and run right back home.

    Hugs to you.

  4. Its all part of the growing process, for not just that beautiful girl of yours but for you as well. I still am learning also and whether you go to him first or somewhere along the way, he is there. You are the most awesome mom!!

  5. This was so beautifully written, I can feel your sadness and weariness and yet I felt the love and hope that is there too. I will read this again and again.

  6. You are doing an awesome job. Sometimes the hardest things are the best things for us (or them).

    There is a girl who is close to me. She had been a wild, rebellious girl. And when she was 19 her life changed forever. She made a bad choice, certainly it was a choice with some very serious, life-long, life-changing consequences.

    Well, today, that girl is a changed person, and there is no doubt in my mind that it is because of that choice. It forced her to grow up.

    So my point is that we, as parents, will try to teach our children to do what’s right. We will try to keep them from making mistakes, especially the big ones. And this is as it should be. But sometimes, the best way for a child to learn is to make a mistake. Especially a big one. And then we, their parents, will be there to pick up the pieces with them. And through it all, He will walk with us.

    You are doing your job well Darcie. Hang in there. You are never alone.

  7. Beautiful…and insightful.

    Praying for you my friend. You’ll get through this – and so will she. And one day you will be the mom who comforts her, as she goes through it with her children. It will just take you a lot of prayer (and wine) to get there.


  8. From everything that you’ve written and everything that I’ve heard you say on Disney with Darcie, “she” is a very daughter to have you for a mother. While reading this post I was thinking about prayer and then you fell to your knees. All you can do is the very best you can and ask for guidance along the way. I wouldn’t want to go back to my teenage years let alone my children’s but in the end the rewards are worth the tears, worries and hard work.

  9. Darcie, I love that you are such an involved and caring mother.

    Hang in there!

    P.S. I think all moms have these kind of days – when we feel inadequate, exhausted, weary to the bone. Thankfully, we have somewhere we can turn for rest. I should actually say…someONE.

  10. Hang in there. They have to find their own way, and allow Him to help them choose that path. We’ve been praying for that all along and now we have to allow Him to do it. But, it’s so very hard. Sometimes I feel like that robot on “Lost in Space” with arms flailing shouting “Danger! Danger! Warning! Warning!” I understand.

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