Confession: I love all of my children. I love everything about my children. I, however, do not like everything thing about them all of the time. Over the past few months I have realized that the things I dislike about them most are the very traits they have inherited from me. Ironic, huh?
God is funny like that. He is showing me things I need to change about myself by forcing me to come face-to-face with mini-jennies….Stubborn, independent, control freaks.
Telling my kids not to do something is essentially challenging them to do it. I’m pretty sure all kids are like that, but as an adult, I probably should have grown out of it. I had always thought of my stubbornness as determination, which is a great trait. Now that my kids are showing the same characteristic, it’s not nearly as charming as I had tried to make it. Looking in from the other side, I can now see stubbornness for what it truly is – a form of pride.
Perhaps my pride is what causes me to be overly independent, another thing I didn’t realize could be negative until I saw it in my children.
The twins are learning how to do more and more for themselves. Although I rejoice outwardly with them as they learn new skills, I also mourn internally because it means one less thing I can control. The other weekend when my husband was out of town, I was forced to let them be more independent. When Griffin picked out his pajamas, he chose mismatched ones. Oh, I cringed and gritted my teeth as I helped him get into his loose-fitting navy blue Toy Story shirt and slim-fitting baby blue and red baseball pants. He was so proud of himself for retrieving his own PJs out of his drawer, so there was no way I was going to take that from him even if it did drive me crazy.
They both take pride in not only selecting their clothes but also in trying to dress themselves. While they excel at putting on their pants, they haven’t quite mastered the ability to take off or put on a shirt. When they try, they usually stretch the shirt. If they allow me to help them though, the shirt is left unharmed. It’s hard for them to admit they need help because they are developing their sense of independence, but when they do ask for help, the dressing process goes much more quickly and smoothly...and it's less painful for them.
My life would be much easier if I would accept help when it’s offered, but I am so prideful that I don’t like admitting I need it. Raising children is helping me see that God didn’t create us to be completely independent. Relying on other people doesn’t make us weaker; it makes us stronger. It makes us more capable of doing greater things. Independence, a trait we teach and treasure in our culture, can actually inhibit our growth and potential. Isn’t it funny that the children I am supposed to be training and teaching are the very ones who are teaching me?
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