Single Parenting. Co-Parenting. Just, Parenting.

Single Parenting. Co-Parenting. Just, parenting. 

This is not for the weak. I'm exhausted. Raising children was not created to be done alone.  I want to tap out sometimes, I want some back up. I want to be the good cop sometimes. I don't want to follow through. I don't want to make dinner and then argue with her about eating it, or not eating it, or eating something else i.e. turkey sandwich that you seem to never tire of, and then deconstruct every. single. time. I also want to share in their successes and really really funny things they often spout off.

This was meant to be a team effort, and by that I do not mean a few days here and a few days there. There are days, ya'll, that I don't see an end in sight. When will the fits stop? When will she stay in bed after only getting up 5 times? Why is the bedtime battle over an hour long some nights? When will he stop throwing his food on the ground? When will he not HATE getting his teeth brushed? When will I stop breaking a sweat trying to get him dressed?  When are they old enough to teach grace instead of the constant follow through? 

Some days ya'll, some days I cannot wait for the break that they spend with their dad, I enjoy my weekend and play catch up and relax and rejuvenate as much as I can, and by Sunday I'm pumped and ready for them to come home. And then some days... Some days I've only been away from them a few hours and I feel like I'm walking through the day in a haze, like something from within my being is missing. All is not right in the world and something unnatural is occurring and I'm reminded again that our family looks different than families were created to look. 

My babies have an incredible love from their mother AND their father that they only experience one at a time.  I can't help but be concerned about how they will view love and relationships with another when that time comes for them.  I pray for them every day that the Lord provides in them a love and commitment beyond what they understand or have experienced.  

I pray that the Lord bless their dad with a God fearing woman who will love my children fiercely and intentionally, who will discipline them in love and grace. Someone who will speak life into them and who will thoroughly enjoy these children for who they are.  Who will constantly encourage them to be silly and exactly who they were created to be.  Someone who will hold them to a high standard of being good and honorable humans.  I pray that my babies enjoy who she is and sitting with her at a table and chatting about the day.  That they confide in her, trust her and love her. I pray that their father is genuinely happy and finds a partner that he can create a strong healthy relationship with that proves to be a positive example to our children.

Of course I pray for all of these things for myself, but I have control over myself and who I allow in my life. I know the standard I have for myself and trust that the Lord has a great plan for me.

My hearts cry is also that eventually, as time moves, wounds are healed and respect is grown they can see their father and I enjoy life simultaneously in their presence. That they see a healthy relationship between their mom and dad - their two constants.  Although separate, our love for you both will never fade or take second place to any other person or thing.

Because of our family dynamic, and what their family portrait looks like, all I can do is continue to teach them to be good humans as well as I'm able.  Teach them to be kind to others, patient, at least TRY new foods, and that the Spurs are the best team ever.  I can make sure they know how to two step and that they understand that creamy peanut butter is the only acceptable kind.  I can love them with my whole being and remind them that as I disciple and continue to follow through that it's BECAUSE I love them. I can be humble and apologize as I make mistakes again and again.

We have days ya'll, that I just don't know that I'm good at this at all. My house is a disaster, she's sighing heavily at her brother for not listening to her, and he is yelling "no ma'am!" at me...both responses they have learned from yours truly.  Some days I realize I haven't just sat and played or laughed with them longer than that laundry has been on the couch.  Some days I decide my failures on how much I have in the bank, or the fact that I haven't even been able to get a hair cut in at least 9 months.  I have dishes in the sink, un-made beds and un-decorated bedrooms and things growing in Tupperware in the fridge (I threw that away.)

Yet, she still looks at me with heart eyes and calls me 'best friend.' He still grins with one thumb in his mouth and the other combing his hair, like I did as a child, and says 'lalalalala you."

Lalalalove you too, babes. always always.