My child, not all of your battles are my own

As I lie awake in bed in the wee hours of morning, I looked at you.

I realized you were dreaming as your face suddenly changed and you looked like you were struggling. I held your hand and tried to shush you, and your face turned calmer again. 

That happens to your sister or your brother too, sometimes. I do the same thing and it seemed like everything gets a little better when I hold their hand or embrace them tightly. 

But you’re still asleep. Still in your dream, I suppose? I let you sleep. I couldn’t wake you guys up every time I think you’re having a bad dream. Of course it would be different if it’s a full-on nightmare or you’re having trouble breathing, and I’m counting on my maternal instincts to alert me when that happens. 

As I watch you sleep or dream, I realize, that’s your journey. You have to be the one to course through it. When the room is so quiet and nobody requires my attention, I realize that not all of your battles are my own. You do not exist in this world to just be an extension of me. You are your own person. 

It may seem like we’re so connected that it’s unthinkable for you to be separated from me. But one day, it will happen. It’s so easy to say I’ll be with you every step of the way, and I’ll make good on that promise the best way I can, but I’m not with you every day. I’m not with you in school. Heck, you’re only away from me for a couple of hours, but it’s preschool, and I don’t know every detail that happens to you during that time. When you’re playing and you encounter these problems in your head, I can’t think for you. 

A few days ago, your sister wanted me to tell off her playmate who was being disagreeable. I told her I can’t do that. When you encounter bullies or pushy classmates, I won’t always be there to ward them off you. 

I realize, that even though my day revolves around you, my children, yours will not revolve around me forever. I am not omnipresent (in a few years, you will know that word and realize there’s only one being in the world that is). You have to be alone in your thoughts. You have your own battle, your own journey. 

But fear not, my child, because I know what my mission now is. It is not to fight your battles for you, or remove every hurdle in your journey. My mission is to prepare you. 

That’s what parenting is all about. It’s not about doing everything for you, although there are days when I complain that I do. It’s about making sure that your mind, body and spirit is whole and healthy for you to be able to survive and thrive in whatever lies ahead of you.

It’s about coursing through these parenting books and mommy groups, looking for ways to best nourish you, encourage you, discipline you. Inspire you. It’s being kind and gentle while I try not to lose my cool as I give you this healthy snack yet you say you prefer to eat chocolate mallows instead. It’s fighting with you to take your vitamins when I’m so tempted to just ditch it to avoid drama. It’s letting you take your time with your homework and do it independently when we can be done in a snap if I just tell you the answers. It’s making you clean up your toy area when I can do it by myself in less than 15 minutes (yes, I timed it). It’s hearing you scream and shout as the nurses prick your hands with a needle to give you medicine to make you better, when I would give both my arms and legs to them if it would save you from all the hurt and the pain. 

Just so you know, your father and I would fight tooth and nail for you (that means very hard and fierce, sweetheart), and protect you kids as much as we can. It would actually be easier if everything was on us. It would save me a lot more time if I do everything for you. But parenting is a lot more complicated than that. 

We have to do our mission the right way, if we want to equip you with the right tools and weapons you need: honesty, resourcefulness, patience, resiliency, compassion and hope. 

The hours we will spend apart will be longer as you grow older, and there will be times you might be anxious about what lies ahead. But don’t worry. We will not set you off empty-handed. You’re a strong and brave kid. You got this, baby. 

But for now, you sleep. Go on silly adventures in your wonderland where you wake up with a smile on your face, asking for a donut. Fight the bad guys in your dream. When it gets too tough, my hand is  there to hold you to remind you that I am not too far behind. 

Mommy will be sleeping too, for training you is not an easy feat. After all, I am just another person with my own journey and challenges to overcome, while also helping you navigate your way into the world. So let us rest and recuperate, my darling, for tomorrow, your journey, and my mission continues.