He's been making pictures all week for the family. I've been sick, lousy, so he made this one for me to get better. It worked, on an emotional level.
And he created this skull for his bedroom door. Isn't it the cutest thing ever? I've never been one for skulls but this is just perfect.
Mothering Braxton is something that has really changed the way I see life. It's changed the way I see myself and the way I see others. It makes me want to just chill out. That is easier said than done. Adelle and Jeff are really good at this, I might add, we will see about Emmett.
We are the first born, Braxton and I, and it's something that can be such a blessing and such a curse at the same time. I can pick out traits in him before anyone else notices. I see him worrying about things that don't need to be worried about and I want to shake him and tell him to STOP worrying! I try and explain to him that he doesn't have to be perfect, all the while knowing that he already thinks he does. He will be great but he will be hard on himself. Can you un-teach that?
These last couple days have been the pits. Having sick kids is one thing, but being sick yourself is way worse. Maybe it's because I'm the first born that I have a hard time being sick. In my mind I interpret it as being irresponsible or not taking good care of myself. Then I feel like everyone in my home is suffering because I am tired and irritable and.....the list goes on. It's difficult for me and I'm not one to just "rest" and let my husband help me with things (although I am getting way better at this:)
Braxton has been my go-to all weekend. We think the same. Instead of waiting for me to ask him for help he just does it. He told me one day (they are all a blur), "mom, we are going to make breakfast, lunch and dinner so you don't have to do anything, just nurse the baby." When Emmett is crying he gets him a ball. When Adelle is bored he plays with her or asks her what she wants to do. He's been my little helper without me even asking him to help. He's been constantly entertaining his little brother and sister. It's draining, I know.
On another day he came out of his room and had a little whimper. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I just want to take this (the Tae Kwon Do book) back to the library." Then he started to cry. I asked him why he wanted to take it back and he said, "because I'm no good." Remember that confident little boy I was so proud of, here he was crying on my lap because he didn't think he was good at something. Broke my heart. He proceeded to tell me that his dad was way better and that his dad never even took lessons and that his dad blah, blah, blah. So my first reaction is I want to chew out his dad for being hard on him! Oh, but I don't do that. That wouldn't do anyone any good. I don't want Jeff to be easy on him. Instead I talk to Brax about how old his dad is, how old he is, how many years his dad has had to build his muscles, learn techniques, and so he stops crying. He feels better and tells me he is going to exercise and he's always going to eat all of his dinner. He will too, until he can beat his dad.
Today my mom came and got Braxton and took him to church with her to get him out of this house. I called him to see how he was and to see if you wanted to come home. He said no. My mom told me she thought he needed a break. It was good for him to be out, by himself, doing what HE wanted to do. It was true. He's only 5 I have to remind myself.
We are the first born, Braxton and I, and it's something that can be such a blessing and such a curse at the same time. I can pick out traits in him before anyone else notices. I see him worrying about things that don't need to be worried about and I want to shake him and tell him to STOP worrying! I try and explain to him that he doesn't have to be perfect, all the while knowing that he already thinks he does. He will be great but he will be hard on himself. Can you un-teach that?
These last couple days have been the pits. Having sick kids is one thing, but being sick yourself is way worse. Maybe it's because I'm the first born that I have a hard time being sick. In my mind I interpret it as being irresponsible or not taking good care of myself. Then I feel like everyone in my home is suffering because I am tired and irritable and.....the list goes on. It's difficult for me and I'm not one to just "rest" and let my husband help me with things (although I am getting way better at this:)
Braxton has been my go-to all weekend. We think the same. Instead of waiting for me to ask him for help he just does it. He told me one day (they are all a blur), "mom, we are going to make breakfast, lunch and dinner so you don't have to do anything, just nurse the baby." When Emmett is crying he gets him a ball. When Adelle is bored he plays with her or asks her what she wants to do. He's been my little helper without me even asking him to help. He's been constantly entertaining his little brother and sister. It's draining, I know.
On another day he came out of his room and had a little whimper. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I just want to take this (the Tae Kwon Do book) back to the library." Then he started to cry. I asked him why he wanted to take it back and he said, "because I'm no good." Remember that confident little boy I was so proud of, here he was crying on my lap because he didn't think he was good at something. Broke my heart. He proceeded to tell me that his dad was way better and that his dad never even took lessons and that his dad blah, blah, blah. So my first reaction is I want to chew out his dad for being hard on him! Oh, but I don't do that. That wouldn't do anyone any good. I don't want Jeff to be easy on him. Instead I talk to Brax about how old his dad is, how old he is, how many years his dad has had to build his muscles, learn techniques, and so he stops crying. He feels better and tells me he is going to exercise and he's always going to eat all of his dinner. He will too, until he can beat his dad.
Today my mom came and got Braxton and took him to church with her to get him out of this house. I called him to see how he was and to see if you wanted to come home. He said no. My mom told me she thought he needed a break. It was good for him to be out, by himself, doing what HE wanted to do. It was true. He's only 5 I have to remind myself.