Brooks is three years, three months and four days old. That's 1192 days old. My goodness, he's so young! I haven't been remembering this very well lately, and when that fact dawned on me again yesterday, everything immediately felt better.
I'm watching Baby Jack discover his hands and fingers and learn that his two new teeth can *bite* and figure out that I don't actually disappear when we play peek-a-boo. He's young but already doing so many things that he couldn't do just a few weeks ago (roll over, get his paci back in his mouth the right way, take off his own hat so he can chew on the "apple stem") and I've been celebrating each little accomplishment. Yesterday was his first real "solid food" - the sweet potatoes were a huge hit!
So why exactly have I stopped doing that for Brooks!?
Since Christmas, Brooks is now exclusively wearing underwear while he's awake (we're still in pull-ups at naptime and bedtime) with very few accidents, dressing himself more, clearing his dishes from the table, hanging up his own coat, following three step instructions ("please go to the other room, find the burp cloth and bring it to me") and recognizing numbers on signs while we're driving. He's learning new things at an incredible pace, but I've been slower to pour on the praise, because I think my expectations have just been too high.
As my dear mother in law pointed out, Brooks has been speaking in complete paragraphs for so long, it's really not hard to imagine that he's older than he is. He's been talking about feelings, and apologizing when appropriate, and tuning into emotions around him, that at times it seems like he's years older than he is.
So I've been pushing him - to be consistently doing the things that I believe he's capable of. But just because he's done these things once, or a half dozen, or even twenty times, that doesn't mean he's fully mastered them - to get dressed by himself, to clip his own car seat buckles, to pick up his toys, to always know when he needs a toilet (and to give me 10 minutes warning!), the list goes on... All the while, he's watching me and Eric take care of every little need for Jack, feeding and diapering and dressing him, responding to each little gurgle, carrying him everywhere, giving him lots of cuddles every time he does something new or amazing or cute... Life is hard right now for Brooks, much harder than it was six months ago, and I've not been making it any easier.
We spent the past weekend in Nashville, and while it was a great visit with family, I felt very out of sorts with my parenting. When I asked my mom yesterday, "I'm pushing Brooks too hard, aren't it?", she agreed that I was. She also (kindly) pointed out that - OF COURSE - Brooks can't articulate that he feels jealous of the attention I'm giving Jack. All he can do is try to get my attention in other ways, either with "bad" behavior, or being loud, or being "needy" - demanding that I do things for him that I'm convinced he can do on his own. He just wants to be assured that he belongs, and that he still has a place in this family.
So, duh! It's just not right to expect him to perform perfectly every time - he's JUST THREE! (I can't manage perfection even in my mid-thirties!) But when I give him grace to keep trying, and view his mistakes as opportunities to learn, and lavish him with verbal affirmation when he succeeds, then not only is *he* happier, but I'm happier too!
This is basic stuff. I see that now on this side of the revelation. But it really changes everything. How I respond to both his good and bad behavior and - even more importantly - his attitude, how I plan our day (leave extra time for transitions and delays), how I speak my own words - to comfort and encourage and train, how I use my eyes and expressions to calm and nurture and bring humor to hard moments.
God, please give me clarity to remember this every single day. No guilt will eat me up over my mistakes - You've given me a brand new day to try again. I have so little time to pour into these boys. Grant me the grace and the patience and self-control to do it well, in every moment...
The eyes of these darling children look up to me to reflect back to them who they are and who they can become. I pray that I'm a loving and grace-filled mirror, so they believe the very best about themselves...
