Oi.
First of all, I would like to say that any parent who is also working or going to school at the same time they are parenting has my utmost respect.
My sister and I have been spending out days taking care of a five year old, studying, completing assignments, going to class, cooking, and cleaning. And it takes a lot of work. We are exhausted, and that is with having our teenaged sister around to help.
I spent my morning at the university, came home, got an amazing hug from Captain America (he also has a Wolverine, a Spiderman, and a Batman costume), made potato soup, did dishes, took my oldest nephew for a walk, helped watch him and get dinner going, helped clean the house, bathed him, and put him to bed. It takes a lot out of you.
My family has fostered since I was eight, so we have always had children in the house--especially babies, as my mother loves babies. Thus all of us siblings know that children are a lot of work and not something to enter into lightly. But I found something interesting out about my self.
I am okay with the work.
Putting my oldest nephew to bed, hearing his "I love you" and getting his hugs, always seems to outweigh the times I have to discipline him for not listening, or for being rude. Going for a walk and collecting tree stars with him, or letting him help me with my make-up in the morning are memories I will not easily forget.
I remember the first year of my niece's life. I lived on my own and would take her on the occasional Saturday afternoon and night, and bring her to church on Sunday. She may not remember this, but I do. We baked cookies together, and I have pictures of her reading my copy of Pride and Prejudice on the bathroom floor while I got ready for church. I remember cuddling her to put her to sleep, and introducing her to Frosty the Snowman.
About two years ago I realized a fact about me that made me incredibly sad. Compassion has always been something God seemed to gift me with, and a few years ago I felt as if I lost a huge chunk out of the section of my heart labelled "Compassion." Over the course of a year, events happened that I allowed to harden me. In some instances I needed this; I was what some people might call a doormat. But I think I allowed it to harden me too much.
Taking care of a child has reminded me of past times when I allowed my heart to be fully open. When I gave love without abandon. And it has made me realize how at peace I have felt these last fews while giving this love.
When I started writing this entry I had no idea of this revelation, yet as I typed I began to see. I think God is opening up the door in that section of my heart that I had thought lost. I feel as if my compassion is beginning to return. Maybe He has been doing renos without me knowing it, and it is beginning to be opened to the public. I don't know. All I know is that the moments of peace I have had despite the craziness that has been life are amazing.
Such is the life of a Christian single.
First of all, I would like to say that any parent who is also working or going to school at the same time they are parenting has my utmost respect.
My sister and I have been spending out days taking care of a five year old, studying, completing assignments, going to class, cooking, and cleaning. And it takes a lot of work. We are exhausted, and that is with having our teenaged sister around to help.
I spent my morning at the university, came home, got an amazing hug from Captain America (he also has a Wolverine, a Spiderman, and a Batman costume), made potato soup, did dishes, took my oldest nephew for a walk, helped watch him and get dinner going, helped clean the house, bathed him, and put him to bed. It takes a lot out of you.
My family has fostered since I was eight, so we have always had children in the house--especially babies, as my mother loves babies. Thus all of us siblings know that children are a lot of work and not something to enter into lightly. But I found something interesting out about my self.
I am okay with the work.
Putting my oldest nephew to bed, hearing his "I love you" and getting his hugs, always seems to outweigh the times I have to discipline him for not listening, or for being rude. Going for a walk and collecting tree stars with him, or letting him help me with my make-up in the morning are memories I will not easily forget.
I remember the first year of my niece's life. I lived on my own and would take her on the occasional Saturday afternoon and night, and bring her to church on Sunday. She may not remember this, but I do. We baked cookies together, and I have pictures of her reading my copy of Pride and Prejudice on the bathroom floor while I got ready for church. I remember cuddling her to put her to sleep, and introducing her to Frosty the Snowman.
About two years ago I realized a fact about me that made me incredibly sad. Compassion has always been something God seemed to gift me with, and a few years ago I felt as if I lost a huge chunk out of the section of my heart labelled "Compassion." Over the course of a year, events happened that I allowed to harden me. In some instances I needed this; I was what some people might call a doormat. But I think I allowed it to harden me too much.
Taking care of a child has reminded me of past times when I allowed my heart to be fully open. When I gave love without abandon. And it has made me realize how at peace I have felt these last fews while giving this love.
When I started writing this entry I had no idea of this revelation, yet as I typed I began to see. I think God is opening up the door in that section of my heart that I had thought lost. I feel as if my compassion is beginning to return. Maybe He has been doing renos without me knowing it, and it is beginning to be opened to the public. I don't know. All I know is that the moments of peace I have had despite the craziness that has been life are amazing.
Such is the life of a Christian single.
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