watering

My cell phone rings. I have a friend on the other line crying. Conveniently at the same time, two of my kids start fighting. Not little fighting where I know they will move on quickly or get easily distracted. But this is an all out fight; justice must be served! I give them that look and snap my fingers, hoping that might get them to shape up. Of course that doesn’t work, so I point to the phone and then put my finger over my mouth. I’m hoping they can understand my sign language and understand that now is not the right time to fight (because there is a right time to fight?) with your sibling. I’m in the middle of something. Don’t you see my face and hand movements? I'm trying to communicate to you that you are supposed to stop acting out and start loving your brother. By this time the 3^rd child has fallen down, gotten hurt, and is now crying.  I am on the wrong side of my phone call. I am now the one ready to cry and need to phone a friend. 

I know that scenario does not put me in the running for mom of year.  I know I can handle those situations much better, and sometimes I do.  However, that is not the point of me telling you that too familiar scenario. Instead, it is to say that being a mom can be hard. It’s hard to juggle. It’s hard to juggle what your kids need, what your friends need, what your husband needs, and what you need.

Another area, I have not mastered is keeping my plants alive. I do not have a green thumb.  There is one small plant on our front porch that has miraculously bloomed this spring. I don’t even know what kind of plant it is. Anyhow, Grace watered it yesterday for the first time in over several months. As she poured the water over the plant, it quickly spilled out the bottom of the pot.  The dirt couldn’t absorb the water because it was so dry. 

That’s how I feel sometimes. I am so dry that I can’t absorb what I need to help me.  I can phone a friend and they may give me great advice, solutions, and even brainstorm with me. And sometimes that is very much needed. But other times, I can only take small dosages.  I can’t handle a long list of does and don’ts or hear what works for you and doesn’t work.  Instead,  I usually need a small drop of understanding. A small drop of genuine care. A small drop of empathy. Then my ‘soil’ can begin to soften up. It is then my hearts feels refreshed. 

There are so many choices as a mom. Where do I send them to school? What kind of diapers should I buy? Schedule or no schedule? Which soccer class do I sign them up for? I mean, you could drive yourself crazy.  And although I really do want answers for all these questions (which I know there are no right answers for these questions), what my heart really needs is to be heard. I love when I share all my jobbled up thoughts or questions with a friend or my husband, and they patiently listen. They hear me. Really hear me. They aren’t in a rush. I see the care in their eyes. They feel with me. That is sometimes all I need.

As I learn about what I need,  I love to water my kids hearts in the same way.  How can I "water" their unique hearts?  Small drops....hugs, putting down my phone to look them in the eye when they talk, getting on the floor to build a choo choo train track (again!), laugh at their not so funny chokes, apologize when I haven't  loved them well, give them boundaries and enforce them, be silly with them, smile, really 'see' them.  Watering a plant is simple (although I rarely remember to do it).  Watering a friend or child's heart is more challenging. But what sacred ground it is.