Life’s pretty interesting with hindsight.
During pre-marital counseling classes, the only thing that we couldn’t come to a consensus was the size of the family. He wanted four while my internal conversation was along the lines of “I’m getting married?! Really? Children?!!! Can we just take things one at a time?”. I was not adverse to the idea but planning long term was just really not my forte.
After the first born, I was hoping for a close age gap between the siblings but the second did not come along till four years later. Amidst the joy and gratitude, there was that little disappointment at the age gap because I had naively believed that the gap would directly correlate to the closeness of the relationship.
Fast forward to present day.
I am ever thankful that God’s plan prevailed and He knows my limitations. When people ask me how do I do what I do (quite a mouthful!), besides attributing it to the grace of God, I know it has to do with my little help (and the age gap!).
He makes meals when I can’t.
He entertains his siblings when I can’t.
He calms his sister down when I can’t (or honestly sometimes when I wouldn’t).
He helps me remember things when I can’t with my cheese-holed memory.
He entertains himself when I can’t.
He packs the house when I can’t.
And because of all these, I forget he’s merely a seven year old. I take his maturity for granted and berate him for things that I expected him to do. I get frustrated at him when things do not turn out the way I want.
The other day, I hugged his lanky frame and apologized for the ranting tirade I was on. As I talked, his shoulders shook with his cries. My heart broke when he said, “I’m really trying to be good.”
And that’s when I remembered.
That I am the adult and he’s just a child.
So thank YOU, my little help.
I’m sorry for the weight that you carry on your tiny shoulders.
I really wouldn’t know what to do without you.
I can’t promise glorious golden everydays but I know we shall aim for that together.
I love you.