I'm a mom, not a miracle worker.
I can't snap my fingers and make my baby stop crying;
in the store,
at the restaurant
or on an airplane.
I can't wave a magic wand rid my child of their colic.
I can't bippity-boppity disappear my toddler's epic tantrum;
in the middle of the mall,
at your place of business,
or even your house.
I don't keep handy a spoonful of sugar, and despite what Mary Poppins says, it doesn't help the medicine go down.
Medicine doesn't ever go down without a fight and lots of loud wailing.
I can't clap three times and motivate a school-aged child who isn't intrinsically, self-motivated.
I can't magic spell away any of my kids' eccentricities because you don't appreciate them or because they don't align with the norm.
I don't hold the power to change my child or to rush them through their less than pleasant stages/phases.
I can't speed-up the development of a brain that is developing just as God intended, on His timeline.
I can't stop a kid from acting like a kid.
But here's what I can do --
I can love.
I can listen.
I can give affection.
I can speak kindly.
I can compliment.
I can talk.
I can praise.
I can be present.
I can encourage.
I can teach.
I can help.
I can support.
I can model.
I can guide.
I can stay calm.
I can pray.
And I can hold the belief that I, as a mom, am capable of raising my little miracles into big people who will, one day, head out into this big, scary, sometimes cruel world, and be the good it needs.
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