THE POWER OF A LETTER: PARENTHOOD EDITION

On Monday I received a letter. It was unexpected. I decided to open it in the car and spent the following ten minutes weeping in the parking lot. I drove home, pulled the card out of the envelope to read it to Dustin and wept some more.

Let me back up here. See that little boy in that picture? He is my little ray of sunshine. He is the happiest, sweetest, most adventures little boy with a wild, spirited heart. But that little boy is also one and a half going on fifteen. And while he brings so much joy to Dustin and I, if I was completely honest, the past month and a half have been a bit tough.

Here comes a bit of vulnerability.

Currently his favorite word is "no." At first it was funny and a bit endearing but lately I find myself frustrated. Do you want to go to the park and swing? No. Do you want yummy ice cream? No. Do you want to stay up late past your bedtime and build a fort? Nope. And those are the fun questions. Try hearing "no" when I ask him to sit in a chair instead of stand. Or when I ask him not to open the kitchen cabinets. Ugh.

Then it expanded to spitting out water at supper. Onto his plate, drowning his food, rendering it inedible, sending me into the "oh crap, now what am I going to feed him?" mode. Oh and when he's not spitting it onto his plate he fills his cheeks and then slowly lets it dribble out and down the front of his shirt.

Overall these are minor offenses that are more annoying than anything, but when juggling a newborn too, the effect triples.

And then it began. Shortly after having Hensley, I'd say about a week or so, I picked Forester up from school and was handed a behavior report. If there's ever a thing that could bring me to a place of insecurity, it's getting a behavior report from my son's teacher. He had hit a friend in his class and was sent to time out.

I realized at that point that Dustin and I had been "raising" Forester much more than "parenting" him. Just a few months ago he couldn't even walk much less swat at me. And in such a short amount of time he had grown to be running and jumping and suddenly getting into a tad of trouble.

I went home that day completely deflated. Let's be honest, I cried. I felt shame. I was embarrassed. His teachers assured me that all kids go through this phase, especially when a new sibling arrives. But it didn't matter. Being a habitual rule follower, I felt like I was getting punished right alongside my little man, making my heart sink. And worse, I had never seen him hit another child. Well, because until recently it was just him and me and Dustin at home. And his baby sister? He absolutely adores her. He lays next to her and rubs her on the head and says, "Hi Sissy!" It wasn't like I had observed this behavior before. The challenge is Forester is the youngest (by a lot) in his class. He's playing with older children and picking up on things that they're doing. But when they're told to stop, they understand, and my little man doesn't always comprehend what adults tell him. Thus the breakdown in communication.

D and I stepped up our game. We became more aware. We tried different techniques to talk with Forester. We implemented time out. We were less tolerant of things that we previously might have pushed off as just child-like behavior for fear it could grow into an issue. We had it down, right? Wrong.

The next week, here came behavior report #2. This time Dustin was the one picking him up from school. He felt no different than I had the previous week. In fact, he was just as upset as I had been if not more. He looked at me and somberly admitted, "Laken, it brought me back to my childhood. It brought me back to getting into trouble, being in the Principal's office, talking with teachers. I felt so horrible receiving his report."

So we continued the journey, trying our best to be good parents. To be loving but to have discipline. We amped up our one-on-one time with Forester. We put him back on the routine we had him on before I gave birth to Hensley. We tried to make him feel special.

And then last Thursday, the other foot dropped. Report #3. The worst yet. He was hitting his classmates and took a block to his friend's face, leaving a mark and future bruise. Talk about bringing a momma to her knees. I was just crushed. Forester is such a sweet boy. He gives hugs and kisses and shares his toys and smiles so big you'd think his only goal in life is to spread joy.

What was I to do but break out the stationary? While Forester had received bumps and bruises and smashed fingers in doors from other kids, I was heartbroken my son had caused harm to a classmate. I wrote a heartfelt note to the other parent (I didn't know which child it was, only that it was a little boy). I apologized on behalf of Forester, told her I was praying her son was okay, and admitted that one and a half was an age that was much tougher than we were prepared for. I ensured her we were working with Forester's teachers to combat his occasional bad behavior. I gave the letter to his teacher and asked that she pass it along to the other parent.

On Monday of this week I went to pick Forester up from school, which these days is like walking into a guessing game. Good day? Bad day? Behavior report? Cute art? I opened his cubby to see a little green envelope.

"This is it. We're getting kicked out of this amazing school." That's all I could think. Looking back that was incredibly unreasonable, but I find I've never been so unsure of myself. Surely other kids are getting reports too, right?

I buckled Forester in and decided to open the card before departing.

Laken,

Thank you so much for your note. It meant a lot to us, but please know it certainly isn't necessary! You are correct that one and a half is a tough age! It is just a season, though. You will find no judgment or concern from us. [Child's name] is #3 of 4 kiddos and he talks about Forester all the time. I know they have a good time together. While this time it was Forester, next time it may be [child's name]. Thank you again for your note. Sending you lots of momma-to-momma grace and love.

Sincerely,

[Parent]

I almost don't have the words to express how much her note back meant. Raising a toddler is tough work, and to have another mother reach out to me with such encouragement and compassion was not only reassuring that this too will pass, but brought me great hope.

Judgment amongst women is rampant. It often feels women in general are much quicker to judge and offer unsolicited advice than to just love and support one another. At a moment when I felt most insecure, this momma reached out and gave me the thing I needed most. And I don't even know her.

As we step into the weekend I'm feeling refreshed. Forester has had a wonderful week at school (fingers crossed today follows suit) and I am feeling a renewed sense that everything will work itself out. She's right, this is a season. A tough one, but we will make it through.

If you are a parent, take a deep breath. Know you are doing one hell of a job. The toughest of them all! Extend yourself a bit of grace, and some extra to your little one too.

Forester is just learning his boundaries. He's exploring and finding out what is acceptable and not acceptable. Thankfully his happiness and sweet heart is present 95% of the time and he's only pushing buttons 5% of the time.

Some food for thought: when you want to give unsolicited advice on what you feel is best (be it what you should register for as a first-time expectant parent, the best way to discipline a child, and so on), push the pause button. Because more often than not that parent might just need an ear. That parent might just want to cry or vent or just be heard. Take the opportunity to extend love and grace over judgment. Ask how you can help instead of pointing fingers and advising on what should be done. I myself have to check my opinions at the door and just be present more with my girlfriends. 

To the mother of Forester's classmate, thank you. Your letter means the world at a time when life can be a bit hectic and tough. I'm grateful for her experience as a momma of four and for her extension of forgiveness and compassion to my family. What a beautiful way to finish off the week.