Raising three, vastly different children is entertaining. It’s loud, and expensive. No one warned me the amount of money I would spend on wine and chocolate. Honestly, if the government is giving out all kinds of financial aid, then Mothers should be allowed a certain amount monthly for booze.
I rarely write when my children are awake, but tonight I decided to see what they would do if Mommy is working, Currently our oldest is fixing everyone ice cream cones before dinner, because. Ice cream. All the while he asking me if he can once again clean ALL the windows in the house, yet refuses to wipe his own butt.
Our middle child is complaining that she is hungry WHILE eating the ice cream. After the first lick she complimented my new dress, and how my make up was done.
” It’s on point mom!” ( she’s 4 )
The youngest is carrying around her ice cream and begging for a bath. She is too sticky. She hates being sticky, infact she would rather be back in my uterus, which would make things much easier for me. What she doesn’t realize is it’s way stickier up in dere. And out here she can eat ice cream , so.
Learning how different three kids are that all came from my uterus ( yes I like to use that word to make you uncomfy ) is blowing my mind. I mean, really. I’m learning that each one has a certain way that they want to communicate love, and how each one needs different discipline for it to be effective.
What am I getting at here you ask? Nothing really. I just felt like saying all of that because I’m bored. But really, what I am getting at is every personality is vastly different, and learning that that is OK is the key to healthy relationships in your adult years.
I cannot tell you how many times I chose to get offended, or allow my feelings to be hurt JUST because I wasn’t aware of personality differences in people.
The fact is that we CANNOT expect people to treat us the way we would treat them. Simple. Point blank. Black and white. Yellow and green. I’m serious. It’s a huge set up for heartache.
What we CAN do is give people the grace we have been given for our differences from Christ. We can also purchase a punching bag.
Think about how different we are from him. Yet, we strive to be like him as best that we can.
Except when your two year old flicks you off in a picture, not knowing what she is doing. Then you post it on Facebook and everyone laughs at your toddler gesturing something vulgar. That’s when I don’t feel a whole lot like Jesus.
Then you repent, just like I did.
Whether we like it or not, no one thinks exactly the same way that we do. It’s unfortunate, because I know that YOU reading this.. You’re perfect. I get it. I am too.
But think outside the box for a moment. Treat people with respect, even if they are different. Listen to people. Let them tell you their story. Invite them over for a meal. Share your faults. Give them hope in a dark situation.
Just like raising three different children, with several different needs, I am learning to appreciate that not one person is like me. Not one person is like you. God is super artsy.
In a world of hate, lets just love. Especially today.