When my daughter is looking at me, big green eyes filling with tears, lips quivering and frowning. Because she is having a hard time with her tween-age life, sobbing that she wants to give up. I don’t know what to say to her that she will believe. Anything that will make her troubles get better or go away. All I can do is listen, hold her and tell her I love her.
Is that enough?
When my son is shouting at me, negative and belligerent, arms crossed over his chest. Frustration and anger masking his sweet face. Telling me he doesn’t care. School and his grades don’t matter. All I can do is yell and threaten to take things away. Tell him how I love him then go and cry behind closed doors.
Being a Mom. It causes me to feel so lost and hopeless sometimes.
Despite them knowing how intense my love for them is. Their comfort in that knowledge is short lived when real life, outside our home, takes over.
And Mommy’s love isn’t enough.
It isn’t significant enough to make a difference when bigger things take over.
This Mommy doesn’t know what to do about that. Except maybe. Hug them a little tighter. So that they know there is one place that is always safe.
Wrapped in their Mommy’s arms.
So that maybe, just for a moment, we can not feel so helpless. Together.