PARENTING WITH IDOLS
In trying to make myself feel like a better mom, I really blew it with my kids.
The thing about my kids is that, in many areas, they seem to lag behind their peers. And I let it bother me. While all the other girls in dance class do their perfect renditions of Swan Lake, my six-year-old daughter is chasing feathers from her boa and taking her twirl five seconds too late, skipping three other moves. At soccer, I actually overhear other parents of soccer stars criticizing my parenting (I don't practice with her enough) because she can't dribble (is that the right word??) as well as their daughters... in voices just loud enough to make sure I hear their disapproval. And I feel attacked.
While all the other boys are speaking in clear sentences and honing their fine motor skills with precision, my near four-year-old son is struggling to put final consonants on his speech, hasn't picked a hand to favor, and is receiving early intervention.
Don't get me wrong, my kids have plenty of strengths too. The problem is, I get so caught up on the abilities my kids lack that I let comparison creep in, and I shame myself. I hear this voice (yes, those soccer parents' voices) saying, "You don't do enough to teach them; it's your fault; if only you were a better parent." And out of my own self-blame, I get frustrated... at my kids.
It reared its ugly head one day when I was trying so desperately hard to help my daughter overcome her fear of riding a bike that I became Tiger Mom. She is so close, and yet it's the grip of fear that stops her every time. I get mad about this. Mad at her fear, yes, but mostly, mad that she doesn't measure up to my expectations (who's really afraid?), which I've adopted from the expectations and experiences of others. She needs time, but I'm too begrudging to give it. And what's meant to be a joy of childhood freedom becomes a battle that binds joy. And it's not right. And it's not good.
I apologized to my daughter for being so demanding with the bike, gave her a hug, and told her I would work on being more kind and patient with her. She didn't seem too battle worn, but my spirit ached inside of me. Why do I yearn so much for the approval of others, especially in the way I parent?
The other day, I heard powerful words that stung me:
"GOD, BAPTISE ME IN THE CRITICISM OF MAN TO INOCULATE ME FROM THE APPROVAL OF MAN."
Can I get an Amen?! (Oh wait... there I go, asking for approval again.)
With a lot of soul-searching, I’ve realized this need for approval stems from two other problems: pride (pride that I’m a stay at home mom, that I write for a parenting magazine, that my husband’s a child psychologist… added pressure that our kids are supposed to be perfect, of course), and the idolatry of misplaced priorities: worrying more about my kids’ talents and nebulous developmental milestones than I sometimes do about the most important thing, their spiritual development. It’s the old “big rocks little rocks” analogy—I fill the cup of life with the little rocks first, and the big rocks are almost squeezed out.
But slowly, one day at a time, I’m changing my course. And to hold the rudder steady, I’ve adopted a new prayer:
"I HAVE NO GREATER JOY THAN TO HEAR MY CHILDREN ARE WALKING IN THE TRUTH." ~3 John 1:4
Today, I'm wading into those vulnerable waters; washing off my toxic need for approval; and tearing down parenting idols to give God the throne over my family again. Because life's too short to worry about dribbling a dang soccer ball.
