Oh, God, make me a better parent.
Help me to understand my children,
to listen patiently to what they have to say and to answer all their questions kindly. Keep me from interrupting them, talking back to them and contradicting them. Make me as courteous to them as I would have them be to me.
Give me the courage to confess my sins against my children and to ask of them forgiveness, when I know that I have done them wrong.
May I not vainly hurt the feelings of my children. Forbid that I should laugh at theie mistakes or resort to shame and ridicule as punishment.
Let me not tempt a child to lie and steal. So guide me hour by hour that I may demonstrate by all I say and do that honestly produces happiness.
Reduce, I pray, the meaness in me. May I cease to nay; and when I am out of sorts, help me, O Lord, to hold my tongue.
Blind me to the little errors of my children and help me to see the good things that they do. Giv me a ready word for honest praise.
Help to treat my children as those of their own ago, but let me not exact of them the judgments and conventions of adults. Allow me not to rob them of opportunity to wait upon themselves, to think, to choose, and to make decisions.
Forbid taht I should ever punish them for my self satisfaction. May I grant them all of their wiches that are reasonable and have the courage always to withhold a privilage that I know will do them harm.
AMEN
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, life will be different. The memo pad on my refridgerator dorr will read, "Afternoon at hairdresser," or, "Browse through art gallery," or "Start golf lessons," instead of " Pediatrician at 2:00," or "Cub Pack meeting."
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, the house will be free of graffiti. There will be no crayoned smiley faces on the walls, no names scrawled in furniture dust, no pictures fingered on steamy windows, and no initials etched in the bars of soap.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll get through a whole chapter of an engrossing book withough being interrupted to sew a nose on a teddy bear, stop a toddler from eating the dog food, or rescue the cat from the toy box.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown I won't find brown apple cores under the beds, empty spindles on the toilet paper hanger, or fuzzy caterpillars in demin jeans. And I will be able to find a pencil in the desk drawer, a slice of leftover pie in the refriferator, and the comics still in the center of the newspaper.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll breeze right past the gumball machine in the supermarket without having to fumble for pennies; I'll stroll freely down each aisle without the fear of inadertently passing the candy or toy sections; and I'll choose cereal without considering what noise it makes, what prize it contains, or what color it comes in.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll prepare Quiche Loraine, or Scallops Amandine, or just plain liver and onions and no one with say, "Yuk! I wish we were having hot dogs!" or Jimmy's lucky, his mom lets him eat chocolate bars for dinner,"; And we';; eat by candle light, with no one trying to roast their peas and carrots over the flame to "make them taste better," or arguing about who gets to blow out the candle when we're done.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll get ready for a bath without first having to remove a fleet of boats, two rubber alligators, and a soggy tennis ball from the tub. I'll luxuriate in hot, steamy water and billows of bubbles for a whole hour and no fists will pound on the dorr, no small voices will yell, "Hurry up, Mommy! I gotta go!"
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, life will be different. They'll leave our nest, and the house will be Quiet.........
and calm.....
and empty.....
....and.....
lonely........
And I won't like it at all! And then I'll spend my time not looking forwars to SOMEDAY, but looking back at YESTERDAY.
I walk along holding your 2 year old habd, basking in the glow of our magical relationship. Suddenly, I feel a kick from within, as if to remind me that our time alone is limited. And I wonder: How could I ever love another child as I love you?
Then he is born, and I watch you. I watch the pain you feel at having to share me as you've never shared me before. I hear you telling me in your own way, "Please love only me." And I hear myself telling you in mine, " I can't," knowing in fact, taht I never can again.
You cry. I cry with you. I almost see our new baby as an intruder on the precious relationship that we once shared. A relationship we can never quite have again.
But the, barely noticing, I find myself attatched to the new being, and feeling almost guilty. I'm afraid to let you see me enjoying him--as though I am betraying you.
But then I notice your resentment change, first to curiosity, then to protectiveness, finally to genuine affection.
More days pass, and we are setting into a new routine. Them memory of the days with just the two of us is fading fast.
But something else is replacing those wonderful times we shared, just we two. There are new times-- only now, we are three. I watch the look between you grown, the way you look at eachother, touch eachother.
I watch how he adores you -- as I have for so long. I see how excited you are by each of his new accomplishments. And I begin to realize that I haven't taken something from, I've given something to you. I notice that I am no longer afraid to share my love openly with both of you.
I find that my love for each of you is as different as you are, but equally strong. And my question is finally answered, to my amazment. Yes, I can love another child as much as I love you-- only differently
And although I realize that you may have to share my time, I know you'll never share my love. There's enough of that for both of you-- you each have your own supply.
~ Author Unknown ~