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.
Tara R. says
Yesterday my son told me I was getting better at helping him not feel so scared. I cried.
I can totally understand how you feel.
Don’t have the answers but I know you you feel. Just keep being there and on their “team” so to speak- eventually they come back and say gee mom I don’t know how you didn’t kill me but thanks for always being there and wanting the best for me even when I didn’t think you did.
Make ’em laugh. Hug them and do something so over the top or stupid that it just KILLS them.
Miss Britt says
It wasn’t when I was a kid – but I can tell you I have clung to my mom in the last several months… and it has been more than enough.
I had that kind of day today. 5 year-old told me very genuinely that he wished he had a time machine so he could go back to when he was a baby and people cared about him. And you think, “what more could I possibly do?” Its never feels like enough but you have to believe it is, ultimately.
A very thought-provoking post. We never know what is right or how much is enough, but we do the very best we can & pray that it will be good enough.
That is so true. The world can be such a painful place, in particular for those tween years. Would that we could make it alright. I guess all we can do is make home alright.
dysfunctional mom says
This is such a great post. I have felt that helplessness, too. One of the first times was when my son’s first girlfriend broke up with him. There was NOTHING I could do and it felt horrible! You can’t kiss away those kinds of boo-boos.
Mommy X says
Sometimes I wake up after having a panicking dream that I can’t make something all better for my son….and I’ve only been doing that for two years, with one kid. I can see how you would probably do that all the time. I think you grow a new heart when you have a child. So, I guess you have a lot of hearts…and a lot of love. But one thing is sure, they will always be safe with you and I have no doubt that they know it.
This is so true. While I can soothe away the hurts of my 3-year-old girl, my words and advice only go so far for my teenager. However, now that I am an adult, I can find comfort in knowing that my own mother loves me and that while the bond can fray and threaten to snap, it also can be reinforced over time.
Candace Alper says
Ah, Melissa. So true and I am with you on this. My Hannah has been having some of “those” days at school lately, for no particular reason. I show up to pick her up and she bursts into tears in my arms. I ask her what’s wrong and her only answer is “I misseded you”. She is now asking me to buy her a locket so that she can put a photo of her, Eric and I in it so that she can have it with her “even when we’re not together.” That’s me, crying at her sweetness, Mommy.
That’s all you can do. Hug them, tell them you love them, draw the boundaries, be there to pick them up when they fall. You’re doing a wonderful job, hon.