Door Number 4

So, as always and ever so frequent and I am sure, tiresome; I am writing about motherhood again.  My motherhood.

Today, on a drive home, I had a conversation with God.  Was it really God, or was it a superimposed something or other that fed me the words I wanted to hear.  Sometimes I really don't know.  Regardless, it brought me to tears -- those tears that flow, followed by the ugly lump in the throat, where even tightening up the lips leave no affect.

Each second, millisecond, nano-second of my mothering existence is completely wrapped in the 'job' of parenting.  Every word I say, every breath I take, every action i seize - noticed or not, is present in how my children are being raised.  

Break: Sidney just walked up to me with his box of legos saying, "Momma, up."  So, either this will have to wrap up soon, or i need to occupy him with something else.

The road I deliberately take with my children might not be the right one and that continually eats at my soul.  Different roads are riddled with opportunities, consequences, risks, adventures and so forth.What road am I choosing to take?

So, this question greets me each morning before my feet hit the floor, "Katie, what road are you taking today? What will your children learn from you, how will they benefit or not from your influence"

My daughter does not know the first thing about  sewing or quilting for even baking for that matter. My sons do not know how to milk a cow, work hard for their keep, or keep a clean room.  Suffice to say, there are many aspects of their life they are missing; solely because as a parent, i have not introduced it to them.  When someone asks them if they have read this classic book or that classic book and they say, 'No.' And I cringe.  When someone says, "Oh, you should know all about this or that," and they don't, I cringe.

I am hard on myself - i know. 
I am not sure if it is a matter of me getting up off my butt and choosing something different.  I am not sure I would want that....or do i?  Do I want to bake with my daughter?  Do I want to bake with my sons?  Do I want to learn how to sew or knot?  hmmm.

Okay, enough said on that topic.

Conversation withGod.  As I thought about my children and how they will be growing up under their parents' guidance, i thought what it might look like.  God put me on the stage of "Let's Make a Deal" and the conversation/visuals followed. I was able to imagine how each individual child may turn out if I chose to do differently.  Door Number 4 was my child -- my child that *I* raised and he/she was just perfect regardless of my flaws.  Each of them stood as adults behind Door Number 4, waiting for me to pick the correct one.

This probably doesn't make sense to you, but it makes sense to me -- or at the very least, this is what I will cling to for a while.  It was made clear to me that I want door number 4. I want my kids just they way they will be...raised by me....or for at least the next couple of hours (smile).

Maybe tomorrow for school, we will bake.