His need vs. my need

Tough days here.  Much grace called for.

Peter is struggling so much.  Last night, after he launched into yet another disrespectful fit--there had been at least ten--I lunged forward to spank him.  But due to his angry resistance, I ended up wrestling with him instead.  Then, because it had been one of the worst days of both our lives, we fell to the carpet and just cried.  And held each other.

Sobbing, he said, "Why am I like this?  Why am I just trouble?  I was born so bad!"

That broke me.

I soothed him, and myself, for several minutes.  And then I told him how much I loved him and admired him.  And how sorry I was for him, that he had ADHD to deal with.  And how it must be so hard to fight for control that just isn't there.

And I told him that sometimes, when he spends a whole day being angry, it is hard for me to remember that he doesn't want to be angry.  That he doesn't mean to be angry.

And I explained that God's grace is sufficient for him, just as it is for Momma with her headaches.  Yes, ADHD is very hard to live with.  But God has a purpose in it.  We have to open our hearts and embrace all that he has for us--even the things we wouldn't choose.

He understood.  Melting into me, he lounged quietly, soaking up my love.

And while I held him it occurred to me that spiritually speaking, he was an old man already.  Seasoned.  Weathered.
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So, why the flair up lately?

My husband is gone entire days and evenings now, due to his Census work, his part-time work, and his school attendance.  I am doing everything.  I'm constantly hurried, which is unsettling to Peter.

With three other children to care for and no physical help, I can't provide the feedback Peter's brain craves.  The constant reassurance.  The constant contact.  He pushes himself on me, trying to make sure I put him above the others, because he simply cannot wait, any more than a one year old can wait.  Seriously.

A number of circumstances have rendered me more of a slave than normal.  Do you feel like that sometimes?  That you're mostly slave labor?  Not in a negative way, but just practically speaking?  Here are my recent circumstances, and I don't list them in a complaining spirit, but just as an illustration.

-  The spring mud.  Each time they go out it's another load of clothes and another vacuuming.  Chunks of mud do more damage the longer they stay on the carpet.  Sometimes, the kids have to stop everything and get showers, which requires my presence and assistance.  The alternative is to keep them in, which isn't an option after a long, closed-up winter.

- My toddler eats so messily that it takes an hour of cleaning three times a day to make our table, floor, booster seat, and baby adequately clean, together with the dishes and counter clean up (not looking for perfection here).

- Meal prep, three times a day, gets more complicated when you use whole foods and when you have four children to prepare plates for.  A simple breakfast of hot oatmeal can take forty-five minutes to prepare, with all the individualized toppings and age-appropriate dishware, silverware and cupware.  Giving the kids access to their own brown sugar, their own berries, their own milk, is a battle for which I don't presently have the patience.  Let's just say they'd have oatmeal with their brown sugar, rather than brown sugar with their oatmeal.

- The bathing and diapering/potty training are always complicated, and now, without help, our evenings are quite harried. The one and three year old need a lot of assistance, and the older ones are prone to fooling around during this time.  It takes some riding herd to get it all done in time for stories and prayer to be included.  Without stories and prayer, every one falls apart.  They need those two things to feel secure about their lives.  Some things have to stay the same in their young lives.  Bedtime stories and prayer aren't negotiable items.

- Without cable TV, they play more games and do more crafts--both of which require a LOT of supervised clean up.

The pace at which I must keep moving to ensure that minimal physical needs are met, leaves me little time to attend to Peter's high maintenance personality.  And with Daddy's own ADHD flaring up due to the change in his schedule, I've got two competing, yet strikingly similar personalities to juggle.

Peter tried Strattera (non-stimulant ADHD medication) a while back and we found it to be very effective.  But it aggravated anxiety, so we discontinued it.  Then, because the anxiety was high no matter what we did, we tried the Strattera again (months later).  This time it didn't aggravate anxiety, but instead seemed to improve it.  After one month though, it quit working entirely.  This week I sense an increased impairment in mood control, which didn't occur with this medication the last time.  Many people do find that it just quits working, for whatever reason.  Needless to say, we're done with it!  I didn't give it tonight.  I think we've reached the end of the road, medicinally speaking.

I'm left with a situation I can't fix.  Or improve.  Or control.  And we're all affected.

As much as I want to be intentional and good at this parenting jig, I simply can't.  Too many complications thwart my efforts.

My hands are tied.

Except for two things.   I can read Scripture to them despite the chaos.  I can pray with them despite the chaos.  Most days, if I've done those two things, I force myself to feel good about the day, no matter what else happened.

God has tied my hands, I am convinced.

And why?  Why would he give me a set of circumstances that seem hopeless?  Are hopeless?

This blog title says it all.

Glory to the Father.

If these kids achieve success, whether measured my way or the world's way--any kind of success--it will not be because of me.

And that is precisely the way God wants it.

My human need to shine as a parent...to feel successful at it...conflicts with His need to be glorified.

My conclusion then, is this:

I need to drop my agenda.  Just drop it.

And follow Him.