Parenthood is hard, and that had never been more evident to me than the last 3 days.
My son has been a nightmare.
Yes, this beautiful boy -
I'm honestly not sure what to chalk it up to. It could be molars, it could be allergies, maybe it's early onset terrible twos; whatever it is, tonight it made me holier.
Tonight, Will got a haircut. Not his first haircut, his third. Not at a new place, at the same place we've always gone. And he screamed.
I'm talking cheap horror flick, civil war amputee, twelve year old girl at a One Direction concert screaming. She had already started cutting.
I honestly in that moment did not know what to do. My Maria told me not long after Will was born to go with my gut on stuff. But in that moment my gut failed me.
What do other moms do when their kid is an absolute nightmare in the hair chair? Do they stop the haircut? Do they console their child? Do they spank them? What the cookie cutters (because cookie cutters is my new hell) was I supposed to do with that kid?
Well, do you know what I did. I suffered. I, the cookie cutters lady (whose name I did not manage to get in the hubbub), another mom and son (whom I am sure called CPS as soon as I left), and the front desk lady (who tried her hardest to make him laugh) all suffered through 30 minutes of intense agonizing howls from my 16 month old animal.
When it was all over and we were nudged out the door by everyone while we apologized profusely and far too much, Dave asked if I was ok. I looked down at myself; my shirt was covered in little WillRad hairs, snot, tears, and scratches. I was not ok. I wasn't mad or sad or anxious or depressed; I was embarrassed. Then I felt guilty for being embarrassed of my kiddo.
Here's the rub: it is so easy to be judgmental of people. I slip into my judgmental stress spirit pretty easily. But tonight, had I been watching me hold my kid's head straight while he got his neck trimmed, I am pretty sure that I would have been judgmental about the way I was dealing with it. And that embarrasses me too.
Parenting is hard. Children are straight up terrorists. But the Lord is faithful and gracious.
I thought tonight, where in my life is the Lord trying to hold me down for a haircut? Where is He keeping a firm hand on you while you fight against Him? Where is He whispering reassurances while you drown Him out with your cries?
Parenthood is hard, and it will bring you to the cross.
You will meet Jesus while you rear children.
It is embarrassing, it is frightening, it is stressful, it is wonderful, it is rich, it is beautiful, it is fun, it is hilarious, but most of all, it is sanctifying.