A MOTHER’S EXAMPLE - A MOTHER'S DAY SPECIAL TRIBUTE
by Janis Stein

Each year as Mother’s Day approaches, I always take a road trip in my mind, back to those early years of motherhood when my children made their grand entrance. Though filled with snippets of useful and sometimes even fascinating information, nothing in any of the touted baby books I studied in anticipation of each baby’s arrival prepared me for the challenges and the absolute simple joys of motherhood. Experience is a mother’s most humble teacher.

I was never real big on patience, but patience I learned. The key was to remain calm. But how was a new mother supposed to do that? Between sleep deprivation, hormones gone awry and absorbing a multitude of other new experiences, remaining calm seemed just out of reach.

The experts in the baby field recommended new mothers breathe deeply and count slowly to 10 to regain their inner peace. Were the experts, I wondered, trying to change an impossibly small and messy diaper while hearing the sizzle on the stove as that pot of water set to boil finally did just that? Were the experts fully rested after having written such sage advice or had they embraced minimal fragments of sleep for weeks? For months? At the dawn of a new day and in an exhausted stupor, did they brush their teeth with diaper cream when both tubes lay on the bathroom counter? I think not.

As for breathing deeply, no problem. With the extra pregnancy weight refusing to budge, I was doing more than breathing deeply – I was huffing and puffing. Counting to 10, though, did nothing to regain my inner peace. It was clear to me the so-called baby experts must have been childless.

By the time my second daughter arrived, I had learned through my own trials (and errors) just what worked for me when my frustration mounted.

I prayed.

Though most days I counted my blessings for all the joys of motherhood, every now and again the world seemed to deliver more than I thought I might be able to handle. But God never gives us more than we can handle.

On those days when my patience was stretched to capacity, rather than losing it, I held close my little ones and said a prayer aloud. Hearing my own calm voice reciting familiar words soothed my soul. It sure beat counting to 10.

As my babies turned into toddlers, I continued to offer up the same prayer aloud; when my daughters heard me praying, they instinctively steered clear until the crisis had passed and peace replaced frustration. I had found something that worked.

***

Fast-forward to a beautiful, sunny day in July, the perfect breeze ruffling the curtains ever so slightly. As I finish clearing the table after our noon meal, I note my two-year-old daughter is playing with Tinker Toys on the living room floor while my eldest is looking at a picture book. With everyone content, I slip to the kitchen to finish washing the dishes. Life is good at the Stein house.

I pause in my chores as I hear my youngest utter cries of frustration. Peeking around the corner, I see she is struggling to fit two Tinker Toys together. Akin to pounding a square nail into a round hole, what she is attempting simply isn’t going to work, despite the amount of force her two-year-old pudgy hands are expending. I squelch the urge to rush in and make everything better. I know the best lessons learned are ones we figure out ourselves, and so I watch from a distance, silently rooting her on.

She tries with all her might, but still the two pieces will not connect. She pauses to examine her quandary with a careful eye, before making another attempt. Still no luck. In a final fit of frustration, she lets out a cry as she hurls the Tinker Toys across the floor. With a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat, I listen as my two-year-old daughter recites a prayer aloud – the one I always resort to when I am frustrated.

In that moment, I realized the power of a mother’s example.

Had I, over the course of her two years, resorted to handling life’s frustrations differently – and negatively – so, too, would have she. Not only did my babe recite the prayer word-for-word, she did so at the most appropriate of times, calling for help from above.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I rushed in to give her a hug and scoop up her wayward Tinker Toys. As I helped her at last accomplish what she had set out to do in the first place, I contemplated, too, just how much a child absorbs undetected. Even when we think they aren’t listening, they catch every word. The good and the bad. Even when we think our children aren’t paying attention, they are storing snapshots of our daily experiences in their hearts and minds so they can draw from that knowledge when they need it.

Children learn what they live.

And mothers aren’t perfect. At least this one isn’t. Sure, mothers make mistakes, but it’s what we do with those mistakes that are important. How we lead our lives may not be how our children end up leading theirs, but providing a good foundation is key. And there’s no better teacher than a mother’s example.

©2008 Stein Expressions, LLC