I'm a Grown-up?

There's nothing like sitting on the couch with your morning coffee, minding your own business, and being hit in the head by a 2x4.

Not a real one. The metaphorical one. Although, truthfully, I'd prefer the real one right now. At least then I'd have the lump to show for it.

These metaphorical 2x4's have been coming pretty regular lately. Like when my big teenager said "You may think you were doing your best...but it's clear your best isn't good enough!" OUCH! That one stung. Or when my 10 year old threw toys at me again for not letting him play video games. And then again, and again.

It hurts my feelings. It wounds me deep down in my heart and there is trauma from the verbal and physical abuse I've endured from my boys over the last few months. And it's gotten bad enough that we have experts helping us sort this out.

And it sucks because all I want to do is crawl into a hole and hide. I don't want to take their mean, nasty words and dodge flying objects. That's not what a mom should have to do. That's not the role I signed up for.

But at the same time, I'm the grown up. I'm the one charged with teaching them what's appropriate and what's not. I'm the one who gets to put out the boundaries and expectations and consequences. I'm the leader.

And that's where this gets really tricky and really freeing at the same time. Being a grown-up doesn't just mean that I get to throw my body weight around and make up a bunch of hard-ass rules and mean punishments. That doesn't work. I've tried it.

For me, being a grown-up means leading with humility and empathy. Getting right down to eye level with a scared boy and saying "I love you" (even when you're a shmuck!). Right now, it means admitting my failures to systems that do judge me and asking for help. It means admitting when I'm wrong or have been too harsh.

Ack! And this is so hard. I want to take all the problems in our house and blame it on anxiety and AHDH and bratty kids and whatever else I can just so I don't have to feel the weight of being grown-up. The weight of doing the right thing even when it slaps you in the face.

But the freedom of making the choice to show up how I want even in the midst of the crap is what allows me to pick up my teenager at school after he's had a panic attack. It allows me to look into the eyes of my 10 year old and shoulder some of his fear for him. It allows me to bundle my crying 6 year old into my arms and hold him without words or judgement.

Most days I suck at being grown-up. Most days my emotional maturity is in the toilet and I want to lay in my bed sucking my thumb, cursing the world.

But most days isn't every day.

And every good moment builds on another, then another, then another. Little victories building into one big one.

So it's time once again for the big girl pants. My currant reminder to myself to be grown-up comes in the form of 4 words: Calm, Curious, Compassionate, Creative. When I am this, I am leading with empathy and humility. When I am this, I am leading with grace and mercy. When I am this, I am baking cupcakes and giving hugs.

When I am this, the 2x4's don't hurt quite as much, not because they're not real, but because they're shrouded in my grown-up ability to show up in the way I choose. And in that, there is so much freedom, and so much love.