For the past few weeks, Ellie has been a "crab apple." She's fussy, cries when she goes down for a nap, cries when she wakes up from a nap, wakes up after going down for the night, won't go down for the night...you get the point. She's also been difficult when I try to feed her solids...she cries when I put her in her high chair, and cries while I try to feed her. Sometimes she'll get over it and it's not a big deal, but other times I just have to throw away the cereal I mixed for her and give up on trying to feed her at that time.
The other day, it was this same scenario. I put her in her high chair: she cried. I started feeding her, and she still fussed a little but she ate a few bites of cereal. Then she just had a meltdown. Huge tears, red face, and lots of screaming. I'm really not used to that at all...she's normally a pretty content baby. Granted, she has her drama queen moments, but for the most part it's smooth sailing with her. After she started screaming, I just lost my patience. I got up and walked away for a few minutes just so I could calm down.
After walking away, I examined my heart...and I found anger. It sounds terrible, and normally I don't think I would admit that, but I want to be authentic and not spare the details because of my own pride. I thought about it and realized that I was angry at Ellie. I was mad that she was crying so much, mad that she wouldn't eat when I knew she was hungry, and I was mad that I couldn't control her.
After I came to that realization, my anger dissolved. I was ashamed at myself. Here I was, sitting on the floor feeding Ellie cereal, and reprimanding her for throwing a fit, when I was throwing a fit inside my heart. Before, I kept thinking, "God why can't she just be patient?" After realizing my own faults, I heard God say, "Kristen, why can't you be patient?" I was humbled after that. I can't expect my daughter to show the fruits of the Spirit if I'm not modeling them for her. And realistically, she's not even 8 months old...and she's not a Christian yet, so she can't exemplify the fruits of the Spirit if the Spirit isn't in her. My expectations were embarrassingly high.
Motherhood isn't an exact science...it's a constant learning process. I'm slowly realizing that in the end, it doesn't matter if you're baby is breastfed or bottle-fed, if she sleeps through the night or not, or if she's a baby genius and does everything early or if she's right on time (or even a little behind). What DOES matter is that I've given Ellie my best, meaning that I've been an example to her of what I expect in the first place.
My daughter humbles me every day (sometimes in wonderful ways, and sometimes in not-so-pleasant ways). Her sweet smile and giggle remind me how blessed I am to have her in my life, and her crying fits and refusal to go to sleep remind me that I don't know everything, and sometimes the best thing I can do is just hold her.
In the mean time, I'm praying (a little selfishly) that Ellie is teething, and someday soon she will go back to being her normal, happy self. But even if that isn't the case, I'm now living with a constant reminder that God, my heavenly Father, expects me to be patient, just as I (foolishly) expect a hungry baby to be patient. It's not my job to have all the answers, but rather to just give Ellie my love, and continue to rely on God that everything will be okay.
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Let us not become boastful, challenging one another, envying one another.” Galatians 5:22-26
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