raising boys and girls.

You’ve probably heard me say before that how much I’m soaking up these days of parenting “big kids.” The baby/toddler/preschool years were hard for me. Part of it is the things that were happening in our lives (you know, seminary, support-raising, moving to India, getting sick, moving home from India, support-raising, planting a church, adopting two kids). But I’m convinced that even without those major life-upheavals, I still would’ve found that season difficult.

I was just so tired all the time. That’s the main thing I remember from those years: tired. Punctuated by many bright and precious moments, of course, but all of it kind of a blur.

Looking back, there were things I would’ve done differently. I wish I would’ve been so.much.more patient. I wish I would’ve sat on the floor and played with my kids more. I wish I would’ve worried less. I wish I would’ve held on to the promise told me by many older moms that though the days felt long (eternal, really), the years were short, that before I knew it I’d be on the other side, looking back with nostalgia on chubby cheeks and bedtime cuddles and Thomas the Tank Engine and lots and lots of board books.

Even so, I wouldn’t return to those years, not for a moment.

I love being able to sleep in on Saturday morning, and the freedom to run out to the grocery store all by myself while the big kids hold down the fort at home. I love having a teen and an almost-teen, a fourth grader and a third grader. These are the years that I wish I could freeze in place, all of us here together many days and laughing over favorite audiobooks or movies, playing yet another round of Mexican Train, even fumbling my way through diagramming infinitive clauses with my 8th grader until both our heads ache, or hand-writing stacks of flash cards for my younger kids’ Ancient Greeks test. I love the smell of cookies baking in the oven and the crunch of Legos and art supplies spread across our battered Ikea dining table.

There are so many things to love about these years, but there are challenges too. We always need wisdom for parenting, but it seems like an extra measure is needed for these years we’re entering when the kids are wrestling with deep questions, friend challenges, loneliness, and figuring out their own relationship with God. Life just becomes more complex as you grow up.

About a year ago, my friend Kelly told me about a group of counselors in Nashville that she loves, and I bought one of their books (Raising Worry-Free Girls). I loved it so much that I bought another. And another. I now own all their books, but what I wanted to tell you about specifically today is their podcast, which is called Raising Boys and Girls.

In the episode I listened to last night, David Thomas put his finger on how I feel these days as a mom. He said that nothing in the world has the power to crack us wide open, to disrupt our lives and draw out our insecurities, but also make us open to change quite like parenthood. To that I say an emphatic: Yes. I can work in an office, lead a small group, disciple women, move overseas, and be a pretty decent English teacher. And feel fairly good about myself doing those things. Then I come home, to these four beautifully unique souls, and become entirely unraveled in the space of time it takes one of them to make a snarky comment about what I cooked for dinner.

Yes, I need help.

And so this podcast has been an enormous blessing to me. It feels kind of like being discipled by a wise and loving group of people: Sissy and Melissa and David. They get that parenting has the power to bring out the best, but also the worst in me, that I find myself exposed and vulnerable as I come face to face with my own need and my own inability to consistently show these kids the love of Jesus, regardless of what they do or say in return. They get that I struggle with insecurity and fear for their future. And they have so much hope for this calling of parenthood, that God chose me to be the mom of my children, and that He’s going to give me exactly what I need.

I highly recommend you start with Episode 1 of the podcast, because that first series, Are My Kids on Track? The 12 Emotional, Social, and Spiritual Milestones Your Kids Need to Reach in my opinion sets the stage for all they teach. If you’re going to just buy one book from these authors, this is the one you should get. But I like the podcast series just as much — maybe because I’m so hard-headed that I need to hear/read the same material more than once for it to sink in.

As I listened to this series, I became aware again and again of milestones I myself never reached, and ways that has affected my parenting (and my marriage) and our home. So I sort of feel parented myself while listening, and love having practical things to do right away.

For example, in the Emotional Milestones episodes, David and Sissy talk a lot about emotional awareness and fluency, and how many of us adults are weak in this area, especially in navigating hard or negative emotions. They suggest incorporating a Feelings Chart into your home to become comfortable identifying and naming your feelings. So I purchased the chart from their website (there are other free charts online), had it color printed and laminated, and we keep it in the dining room. Amie has embellished it by adding some more “feelings” to the back.

David and Sissy recommend setting the chart on the table during dinner and while the family goes around saying their “highs and lows” from the day, naming the feeling you had during those moments. We don’t do this every night, but it happens at least once or twice a week. The kids always roll their eyes when the Feelings Chart comes out, but I’m okay with it. My favorite use for it is in sibling conflict. I’ll pull it out as we’re talking through something that happened, and each kid points out how they feel.

I also had an “aha” moment when one child was acting out after being corrected, and when I talked to him about it, he pointed to the “embarrassed” face. I had thought he was just being rebellious, but there was something deeper going on. My heart instantly softened towards him because I know what it’s like to feel embarrassed after doing something wrong. So we were able to connect in that moment. He still got a consequence, but I was able to meet him where he was and tell him how much I understand and I love him — rather than just reacting out of frustration.

This brings me to my other current take-away, and that is that all kids are hungry for connection. Not to have the perfect parents. Not to have the perfect life, or have us fix all their problems, or give them all the opportunities their friends have (although they may say that’s what they want). What they truly long for, deep down, is to know that they matter. That someone sees them. That someone loves them, right now, exactly for who they are. That someone delights in them. Isn’t this what we all want?

Pondering this truth has helped me slow down numerous times and just stop and enjoy my kids, right now. To put down my book in look them in the eye when they’re talking to me. To adjust my facial expression and smile at them when they’re talking. To laugh at their jokes. To tell them how happy they make me and how thankful I am to be their mom. To speak God’s truth over them, that He created them exactly the way they are, that He delights in them and wants to use them for His kingdom. That they have something to offer, right here and now, to a hungry, hurting world — not when they go off to college, not when they have a career. Right now.

I’m growing leaps and bounds as I enjoy this podcast. I feel much more at peace being vulnerable and needy and having to confess the same tired old sins yet again. It’s okay. God is bigger than my failures. He is accomplishing His purposes in our family. I feel a renewed hope that He’s still changing me, and that He wants to use me to bless my family, just by being me. Not by being perfect, but simply through offering them the gift of myself.