Several months ago, Alex was at the peak of his terrible threes, aka his antimommy phase.

I broke down sobbing because I KNEW I could not parent this child alone. I was terrified of being overwhelmed and failing.

Now what am I doing? I am parenting this beautiful child alone (I am not discounting Scouts excellent fathering, I’m talking about the day to day when it is all on me.)

Last week, I wasn’t the parent I wanted to be. I was short tempered and out of excitement and energy. Friday I took him to mom and asked for a couple hours off. I told her I wasn’t living up to my own expectations and wanted to regroup.

Within 15 minutes of Alex’s extreme energy she said “I think you are doing a great job of parenting – you’re letting him live.”

Yesterday I was thinking of how much I miss the dude and his heathen boys rough housing with Alex. The laughing and how he thrived on that energy. I added wrestling and hard physical activity to my list of things I needed to do.


I took it right back off that list.

Because the metaphorical lightbulb went on.

I am his MOMMY.

I am HIS Mommy.

Which means I do NOT have to be EVERYTHING to him. Matter of fact I should NOT be everything to him. There are too many people in this world for him to learn from, for me to try to do everything would take away from what they are meant to do in his life.

Also, if I’m trying to do everyone elses job (perceived job) then I’m not doing the things I do best.

So yet again I stand at the beginning of a new chapter. This time of parenting. Where my calling is to be the best Alex’s mommy I can be. Where I learn something each day. Where I grow in patience (cuz wow imma need it) and joyfully, grow in love.