The waffle and the apple incidents

Sunday mornings are kinda like the hunger games around here- except with more crying.  Cory usually is up and out the door by 5:00am so that leaves me to dress and feed all the tributes.  Let's not pretend that any teeth brushing happens.

This morning went pretty well. The big boys got the cereal out for everyone and I gathered clothes. No one needed bathing because we went swimming last night in our friend's (salt water) pool so obviously that counted. Usually Cory comes back home to get us and we all ride together, but he had a leadership meeting after church so we needed two cars. On my way out the door with the boys, Silas threw up. You saw that coming didn't you? But never fear I quickly assessed the situation and determined it was not a contagious type of vomit, but a mucous-y one induced by the glow stick in his hand that he had just gagged himself with. I grabbed him a clean shirt from his closet and might have wiped up the floor with something I grabbed from the laundry pile. On to church we went. 

This is where it went sour.

In the van, Judah asked if he could have the waffle I was eating. I told him no because it was my only breakfast. That's when he tells me he didn't eat anything for breakfast. I pressed him and he then went on to say that the boys woke up before him and ate breakfast before he could get any.  I debunked that excuse so he rebutted with a "I didn't see the cereal on the table" which also wasn't true. He tried inviting about five more excuses to the pity party and in doing so pushed my parenting panic button. 

ALERT! ALERT! CODE RED! He's playing the victim again. He's not owning up to his part in this. He's gonna grow up to blame everyone else for his struggles. He's gonna hang on to the unfairness of his first few years on earth and feel entitled for THE REST OF HIS LIFE.

You probably didn't know you could tell all this just from a waffle incident, did you?

You can't. You shouldn't. But I did.  

I spent the next ten minutes lecturing him  - It is your fault that you didn't eat breakfast because you had plenty of time but you spent all morning playing- How come all your brothers were able to eat breakfast- Don't you dare say it is Mommy's fault- Everyone who ate breakfast and still got ready for church raise your hand- And stop crying - Don't make up excuses that aren't true- And on and on and on I shamed him. 

Wanna know why he was so distracted this morning? Because today is his birthday and he was playing with all the new presents he got at his party last night. 

Ugh.

The rest of the morning played out like you would expect. I teach his Sunday School class and he refused to participate with a passive aggressive "I don't know" or "I can't think of anything" answer every time I tried to engage him. It just fueled my fire. There are some things about mothering that come natural to me - like quickly assessing the risk factor of vomit while shooing six kids on to church. But calmly nurturing a child who is acting out passive aggressively is not in my natural skill set.

I knew this was gonna take a conscious effort. I took Judah out into the hallway alone and tried to channel some of the parenting advice I am soooo good at sharing with other moms, but can't seem to incorporate myself. In my head I started chanting the mantras: Get eye level. Make physical contact. Speak softly. Connect don't correct. Delight in him. 

"What's going on? Why are you being grouchy?" I cooed. 

As typical, he could not express what he was feeling or why he was feeling that way so I started our usual guessing game.  

"Do you want me to help you figure out what you are feeling?" 

Yes. 

"Are you sad?"

Yes. 

"Are you sad because it's your birthday and your sisters and mom aren't here?" 

I went with the big one first because this is a common phenomenon for kids who are adopted a bit older- Holidays and birthdays are often tainted with sadness that's just unexplainable. And typically when Judah and I play the guessing game and I guess right he will start immediate guttural sobs. It's like once I name it for him, the feelings just overtake him. 

But he didn't react. In fact he shook his head no.

I continued on, "Are you sad because Mommy got mad at you earlier?"

Ding ding ding. We have a winner.  

The whole thing feels so stupid reading it back now.  Kinda seems like I could have skipped over the whole 10 minutes of shaming and shortcut to the "you can have my other waffle" conclusion.  I hate it when I parent out of fear. I get so controlling and irritable. And always over react. And I especially hate that I did it this morning because he has been doing so awesome lately. And you know it's his birthday and all. 

Then comes the Mommy guilt and now I am the one shamed.

Later during worship, Cory preached on a topic that was quite timely for me. His text was from Genesis and he referenced Eve in the garden. He explained how sin disrupts the shalom God created because it naturally produces shame. And shame suffocates relationships. Shame makes you hide behind fig leaves. Shame makes you answer "I don't know" when you don't feel emotionally safe with your mother. Shame makes you think you are a hypocrite and the worst mother ever when you've had a tough morning. 

Cory went on to explain that from the very first relationship where sin interrupted, God worked to redeem it back. Because even after the whole apple incident in the garden and the shalom that would never be the same again on earth, Eve was still given a name of blessing. Eve means "mother to all of the living" and NOT "woman that ruined labor for the rest of us." :) 

I wish I could recite everything Cory said this morning because it was just one of those Sundays that felt like he was talking directly to me. At the end of his sermon, he referenced author Brene Brown as she described the first key to overcoming shame is to expose it. During communion we were invited to light candles to symbolize exposing ourselves and bringing our shame to light.  I went to the front and lit the first candle and it was very meaningful for me. I'm not usually one who participates in religious invitations to "come forward." I much prefer the stay seated and privately confess to God technique.  But I'm really REALLY glad I did it. It almost instantly lightened my burden and turned my morning around. And then when I got home I was drawn to record the waffle incident publicly here as well and expose myself even more because I believe there is powerful healing when things come to light.

I'm not fishing for reassurance or compliments. I definitely don't need any help justifying my bad days. I just want to expose my imperfection and shame. That's really my whole motivation for writing this post. I want to confess that my name is Christina Jones- my husband is an awesome and genuine preacher, I work with special needs kids, we adopted our three youngest boys out of foster care, I write a blog about faith, family & adoption- and I can be a really crappy mother sometimes. I was today. And I need redemption.