An Empathetic Heart

Have you ever had someone criticize your parenting or your children’s behavior? Has it ever been you who was critical? I know that, before I had children, it was easy to look at other mothers and feel certain I could do a better job. I mean, how hard could it possibly be to comb a toddler’s hair or dress her nicely before showing up to church or the grocery store? What’s so difficult about teaching children manners and obedience? Now, four children later, I can only laugh at my naiveté. I had no idea!

I truly believe that unless you’ve been a full-time mother, it’s just not possible to really know how physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting and difficult the job can be. I can only say, motherhood teaches empathy. I used to feel disdain for a mother whose two-year-old was screaming down the isles of Wal-Mart; now I am simply grateful that toddler isn’t mine! I flash an understanding smile as I recall our last grocery store visit with two children whining by my side and a baby screaming in the cart.

I recently had the luxury of visiting Wal-Mart without any children--an amazing experience! I felt as free as a bird. Gliding through the front doors I ran into my son’s former soccer coach trying to push a loaded cart out to her van while balancing a small child on top, holding an extra gallon of milk with her “free” hand, and keeping an eye on the two older children by her side. It was wonderful to be able to help. I moved the milk jug to the bottom shelf of the cart and pushed the entire load across the parking lot, explaining the whole way there that I totally understood how she felt. (The milk still wobbled off when I hit a bump, but at least I was there to retrieve it). My friend seemed very grateful, explaining that she was watching extra children that day and trying to get ready for a party as well as do the regular grocery shopping. As I hurried after the runaway gallon I realized that if I hadn't had children, I probably wouldn't have been so eager to jump in and help someone I didn't know well, but since I had been in a similar situation multiple times before, I immediately knew her needs and was able to help without reservation.

I'm so thankful for the empathy I am developing from finding myself all too often in less-than-desirable situations with my children. I have often had the thought run through my mind, "I hope those people know I usually look better than this, or my children usually look better than this, or we usually have things together better than this," but motherhood is forcing me to realize that 1) it doesn't matter what others think; 2) no one has it all together all the time, leastwise mothers; and 3) gaining an empathetic heart is a wonderful blessing because I can see other women struggle at times with all they are managing, and I can feel love and understanding for them--something I may not have done before.

I guess that's just one more thing to thank my children for.

Welcome Home!

Have you ever come home from vacation with a pit in your stomach because you knew that reality was waiting right inside your front doors? That's exactly what happened to me early this morning (12:15 a.m., to be exact)!

We have had one of the busiest summers ever, vacationing, visiting family, going to family reunions, traveling for business, etc., and as much as I've enjoyed all of the wonderful time we've spent together as a family, I was thankful school started today so that we could start a routine again. This past week Dan and I traveled to New York City for a little get-away to celebrate our 10th anniversary. We had a wonderful time together--sightseeing, riding the subway, shopping, seeing Broadway shows, and talking about the kids, of course. Then we came home.

Our plane was delayed for over an hour so we walked through our doors after midnight. I had given myself plenty of pep talks to prepare for the chaos and reality of real life again, but I've learned that no preparation is ever really adequate. I went in to steal a kiss from my boys and knew as soon as I opened the door to their bedroom that something was not right. It smelled horrible! I turned on the hall light to get a closer look and found my sweet little baby sound asleep in a puddle of throw-up. He was matted with it and so was his bedding. We had no choice but to wake him up and bath him. Dan plopped him in the tub while I stripped his bedding and threw it in the washer. The poor child didn't know what to think, especially when we looked at him in the light and noticed that one of his eyes was glued shut, thus requiring eye drops (I certainly would not respond well to this kind of treatment suddenly in the middle of the night).

I was pretty good-natured about it all, laughing to myself about the welcome we'd received. Then we went to the grocery store today and my laughter nearly turned into tears. It wasn't when my little guy screamed for the first ten minutes of our trip because he wanted to drive his own little shopping cart around like his older sister; it wasn't even when his shopping cart tipped over and the long metal pole announcing that he was a "shopper in training" happened to slice into a display of 12-pack cans of coke, splattering coke all over me, my groceries, and the grocery store (no, the coke didn't splatter--it gushed out like a geyser and started pooling on the grocery store floor. I was so covered in it that my flip-flops no longer flipped and flopped--they were literally stuck to my feet from the sticky coke syrup); I think it was when Boston tipped his cart over and dumped the contents out FIVE times after the coke episode that I began to lose my grip a little bit.

The phrase, "Welcome home" just kept repeating in my head. Our vacation had definitely come to a complete and abrupt end. Oh well, that's motherhood, and I still wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world!