Monday, November 17, 2014


parenting is hard.  knowing what is best is hard.  push backs from the world around, the experts, the blogs, the strangers who comment, they are hard.  we do our best to choose what works for our children.  we parent Abigail and Shilo differently.  they are two different beings. 
these past few weeks I have been confronted by outsiders with the questions.  the why homeschool for Abigail?  a professional telling us we are 'limiting' Shilo by choosing not to push speech therapy and oral communication on her.  I stood my ground. 
and then I went through my days watching my girls.  wondering.  did we make the right choices?  are we doing anything well for these two little that we are trying to parent, and raise, and love to pieces?  are we being selfish in our choices?  are we limiting them?
and like the amazing little beings they are, our girls show us, and remind us why we have chosen the what we have, and why it is right.  for now.  getting to send Abigail out into the snow this morning, before we started school work, all bundled up, and full of light and laughter reminded me how great it is that she still gets to spend so much time playing.  we can get all of our school work done, and she can have lots of time to run, and play and be six.  and that is a beautiful thing for her.  and for me. 
almost ready to play.

and shilo.  and language.  and limits.  oh, if they could only see what we see.  a little girl who crawls over and asks for music, and then does her best to fingerspell, 'lecrae.'   three.  my three year old is trying to spell.  and then she tells me, amidst wiping banana in her hair that the banana she is eating, is a fruit.  and indeed, it is.  and i'm blown away that a little girl who can't speak many words, can communicate things to me that I did not know she even had in her little brain.  as if those reminders weren't big enough, weren't sure enough for us to know that we made a choice that took the limitations of speech away, and left her with language, we find her signing, in her sleep.  yes, people who use sign language as their first language do indeed talk in their sleep, with their hands.  and, it had never occurred to me.  but, the beauty and greatness of it left Jason and I laughing and full of joy.
parenting is full of choices.  there are some absolutes.  there are things that are never okay, and things that always are.  and most of us are limping our way along trying to figure out if we are doing, or saying anything right.  we're full of guilt, pain, and shame from the days we have been less than stellar in the parenting department.  we put the pictures out there for the whole world of the things we are doing well.  and, we watch those around us trying to measure up as better or worse. 
when my parenting and my decisions are called into question I quickly become defensive and snarky.  you see, most of the things i'm doing with, for, about, my children, those were things we decided with deep love for the ones who we were deciding about.  questioning those things feels a lot like questioning whether my love for them is.  and it is.  so i'll do my best to assume that your choices come from a deep well of love, the exact same place mine do. 

1 comment:

  1. My new thing is not explaining. Just saying "No" and then just stand there... with the awkward silence washing over both of us, me holding eye contact until they look away and leave me alone. Just today I did this to a lions club volunteer who was trying to give my kid a free eye exam. I said no thank you, he pushed. Then I said no, went silent while staring, and made him uncomfortable. Could I have explained that Ike has an intense hatred of the eye doctor and thinks all vision checks will result in having his eyes dilated so really I was saving him a melt down? Yeah. Could I have told him that Ike has the start of an optic glioma and gets his eyes checked every 3 months now? Yep. But I've found the more I explain, the more prying questions asked, the more I get drawn in to defending my choices. Now I just take a little secret (slightly disturbing) joy in not explaining. ;)