Dear beckett

Beckett. Wow. This past week has been bad. You have brought me to my knees and left me drowning in puddles of frustration. I am exhausted buddy. As I type this I think of what awaits us tomorrow. You have been waking up so angry lately. Your fuse is short. And your temper is quick. And my tears are plentiful. I don't know what's going on. Are you not getting enough sleep? Enough food? Am I pushing you to hard with this damn potty training? Are you not getting enough attention? Does something hurt? Just tell me. Because I am at a loss. And I hate, hate when I let my frustrations from your behavior control me. I am supposed to be the adult, but sometimes I act just like a child. I threaten you with punishment or I bribe you with treats. And if that doesn't work, I end up angry and defeated and mean. And that helps nobody. You can be a difficult child. You are willful and deliberate. It is your way or no way. And you are only three. I worry about when you are sixteen. I obsess over the discipline I instill now. Is it enough? Is it not enough? Am I too stern? Am I a pushover? And I worry way way too much what others think. When we are out in public, inevitably you will get upset. Over a toy. A drink. A car. Whatever. And you throw a fit. Not necessarily a tantrum, but you become upset. And the first thing I do? Instead of trying to calm you down and talk to you in a rational tone....? I look around. Are people staring at me? Do they think I'm a bad mother? Do they think my child is out of control? You would think that I wouldn't worry about that stupid stuff. The opinions of others. Especially after losing Harper. But that's just it. That's why I do care. Too much. After she died all I wanted was to become a momma. And now that I am I want to make sure that I am doing it correctly. That I am worthy of the two littles entrusted into my care. Because now I know what it's like to have everything and then nothing. To dream and then to despair. And so even though she has been gone four years now, her spirit still haunts me. And so I judge, myself. 

And by doing that I feel as if I have failed you. I never imagined that something that I wanted this desperately would be so damn hard. Parenting is hard. So very hard. I wish that somebody would tell me what to do. To give me a guideline. Point me in the right direction. But their is just me. On my knees. Asking for patience. For grace. For security. And for peace. And maybe that is what this battle between you and I has been all about. To give me the humility to ask for His help and wisdom to know that I am not alone. Beckett Glenn, I love you and your brother with every single beat of my heart. The days have been hard lately but never ever think that I haven't considered that the greatest privilege of my life is being your momma. Tomorrow is another day. And I promise to worry less about what others think and worry more about the little soul that stand before me, even if you are screaming your bloody head off ;)