No Wike It

It's so hard to know how much to tell you. What to share, and what to keep to myself? At 21 months you've already been quite the challenge in childrearing, and I know that has just as much to do with me as it does you. You are always teaching me lessons I didn't expect to learn in ways I never dreamed they'd happen.  Today you made my heart swell with pride.  Let me tell you about it. 

Your brother loves to "roar". He's interested in dinosaurs, and he knows you don't like it. Generally we ask you to move to a different space if his roaring is bothering you, but when he roars AT you, we make him stop or move. 

Let me add that we have been working, working, working on "using your words" when problems arise. This is a common childhood lesson. I remind each of you to do so probably a dozen times a day.  Using your words is hard. It's even hard for adults sometimes. It's really hard when you are already mad/annoyed/upset...  And I can only imagine how hard it is when you don't actually HAVE the word for how you are feeling. 

Also, using your words requires self control. Self-control is a fruit of the spirit, which means that even Momma is still working really hard to grow it!  You, my sweet love, have A LOT of growing to do with this fruit. 

Furthermore, even under the best circumstances, using your words doesn't always affect change...especially with your three year old brother.  So, then, of course, comes the "Ask a parent for help" lesson. 

So, today, when your brother roared AT you, I fully expected you to scream, hit, flail, etc. You're still so young, and still learning. I was fully prepared to guide you through the situation and help you make it right.  But instead of doing any of those things you just looked right at him and said, "no". You were calm, firm, and certain. I was stunned, but you had no idea I had been sneaking a peek from around the corner, and what you did next amazed me even more. 

You came to find me, and when you did, you looked right up at me and said the following: "Giddy roar a me. Me no, no wike it." 

Which translates as "G roared at me. I said no. I don't like it." 

....and my jaw hit the floor. 

You exercised self-control. You used your words. You anticipated the problem continuing, and you asked a parent for help. You are 21 months old. You are amazing. I am proud of you. I love you. I look so forward to watching you continue to grow. 

You are beautiful. 

You are fierce. 

You are perfect. 

You are mine. God gave you to ME! He deemed me worthy, and called me to shepherd you. I won't pretend that I've always been confident about being your momma. You have terrified the wits out of me in your short life so far.  But I am thankful. I am so thankful, because I can already see, so clearly, that you are extraordinary.  

You will move mountains, and I will be right here loving you and answering when you are ready to "Ask a parent for help!"