My Personal Mountain

When choosing names for our sons it was always important to us that their meanings be significant. I named Aron, Aron, because I thought it was a strong name and because I liked the meaning. Aron is the Hebrew spelling of Aaron, and translates as, "light". Recently, I was looking at names and their meanings and discovered that Aron has another meaning. It also means, "mountain." I cannot help but see the irony in naming our son so appropriately. Apart from his light, almost white hair, he has proven to be thus far-- my own personal mountain.

Aron from his first breath has seemed uncomfortable in this world. As a newborn I knew right away that this boy was going to make his mark in this world by force. His first three years with us have reaffirmed this notion, and this notion has never been quite as evident as it was last night.

Richard and I took the boys to the mall. The plan was Rich would take the older boys to get a treat while I took Abe to look for shoes. As soon as Aron sensed his father and I wanted him to go in one direction, he immediately wanted to go in the opposite. Defying all logic, and reason, he insisted on giving up a treat in order to come with me. I honestly believe for no other purpose than to foil his parents' plans. So Richard and I set off in opposite directions. I with Aron and Abe in toe.

Aron made it to the furthest most part of the mall really well. Running around gibbering, and playing with his brother. Then IT happened. The one thing I have feared in 6 plus years of parenting, happened. The mother of all temper tantrums, in which I was completely unable to reason with him or physically win. In public, in full view of all prying eyes, my parenting skills laid raw for the world to see.

It started in Bass Pro Shop, in the very back. Complete anarchy. Screaming that would make glass shatter, (in fact I thought for a split second the huge fish tank would). I tried to talk to him, but his eyes just shut, face red, wet, head thrown back, and then his entire body on the floor. I then tried, the mommy is leaving with or with out you technique. He called my bluff. It was now clear I had met my match, and any help was at the other end of the mall; completely oblivious of my plight. I had to do this. I had to regain control, had to not lose my other toddler, and get us safely to the car.

I made it to the door of the store, with Aron screaming at me the entire way to, "Stop!" Then, overcome with emotion, he slipped and fell. Abe by this time is squirming and wanting out of my arms. I can only imagine how desperate I must have looked, but I tried to calm my face and retrieve my fallen child. By the time I had gotten to him, he was in a stranger's arms. A tall, business man had picked up my son and looked as though he wanted to help me, but as though he honestly feared the now possessed child I had come to claim as my very own.

I thought my only way of gaining any ground now, was to just walk. To make sure he was in a safe distance behind me, but to just keep going. This worked for a while, then he figured me out and stopped dead in his tracks. He has never stopped screaming at this point. The same repetitive screams that would make onlookers believe he was mentally challenged. I had no choice but to pick him up with brute force. Now carrying both he and Abe in my arms, I trudged onward....Then he threw himself to the ground in one smooth acrobatic move. Thump. he hit hard. I grabbed his hand and began to pull him forward. We gained some ground until the ramp.

He somehow reached out and got hold of the hand rails along the ramp. Yanked himself free of myself and wrapped his arms and legs around the rail. Hanging like a rabid monkey from the rail, he continued to scream. I saw people's disbelief, I saw their judgements of me as a mother flicker across their faces, but I had more to worry about. Is this really who my son is? Could he possibly have this fire within him, and if so what does this mean for his future? I could feel the tears welling up, but I pushed them back. He looked pathetic, he needed me. I went to him and forced his hand from the rail one finger at a time. I got a firm hold of him and hoisted him up into my right arm. Struggling and fighting the entire time to his father, and then screaming the entire way home in the car, my Aron was exhausted.

At home when I went to get him out of his car seat. I heard a faint sound from him. Could it possibly be?? Was he really aware of what he had done, enough to feel shame? Then again, head bowed, eyes down, I heard him say it...there was no mistaking it this time. "Sorry mommy!" My heart broke in two, and all anger dissolved.

That night I tucked him in and prepared to leave as I do every night. For this is my child that has never allowed me to rock him, never allowed me to lay with him, and pushes away from hugs. With heavy eyes shut he said, "No leave me mommy, lay right there!" Now the tears were flowing freely. He slipped his little hand under my neck and pulled me closer. I laid next to my baby, with my head on his tiny heart and listened to the rapid beats slow steadily. He was asleep now. Finally at peace. His face relaxed.

As I laid there and looked at him I could not help but praise God for my mountain. My greatest challenge in life thus far. How much this mountain has taught me..He lays my own flaws open for me to see. How often have I treated my Heavenly Father the way my Aron had just treated me. How often I have disobeyed, and thought my way is better? How often do I feel shame in the presence of my God because of my own actions? Now my son has offered me the opportunity to feel a fraction of the pain my Father in heaven must feel when I behave contrary to His word.

So today I am thankful for the mountain I climb with Aron Elijah. The way is steep, long, and the path is narrow, but I cling to the belief that at the summit of this mountain the view will be glorious.

Long Time No Blog

Okay it has been about two years since I have even visited my own blog, so I am well aware that the words I now type may never be seen by eyes other than my own. I had actually forgotten all about this blog. I started it a few years back. My friend just posted pictures of my boys on her blog and it was also a blogspot account, which jerked my dusty memory....and here I am, typing away as though somebody else actually cares about this little chain of events.

So here is where I share my deepest thoughts, and my wisdom with the world....Funny! As a former journalist I had always thought my audience would be so much bigger and much more impressive. (Just in case anyone is actually reading this...please take no offense)!

If some people's live's turn out as they had planned it, then of these privilidged, I am not one. Here I sit..with screams as a backdrop, on my home computer, blogging! Was I not meant to be a great journalist? That was the plan. My reality has been much different.

One planned and three surprise pregnancies later....I am now a mom, and not much more. So far from anything notable that I can barely even recall the word's proper spelling. Right now, in this very instance I have one son yelling, "I'M done!" Waiting for me to wipe his behind. One son carrying on a one way conversation I have now converted into white noise. One son, just left the house, and should be brought back in out of the rain. And there is a 14-month-old somewhere making shrills that have had me on edge for most of the day.

It is the latest installment of the above that has this stay-at-home mom so discouraged today. He was to be my sweet one. My easy one. Surely after all of the falls, temper tantrums, will filled show downs. I deserved ONE CHILD that was like the rest of the children in this world....

Well, again my plans and my reality have not squared up very well. For the past week I have been coming to terms with the fact that my baby will not be an easy child. That he too, will defy me, climb onto tables, run away from me when I call him, and scream endlessly to be unbuckled from anything that immobilizes him for more than 30 seconds. He will be just like his brothers. Exhausting, in every sense of the term.

My boys don't sit still. I let them watch very little T.V., but when they do, they are moving, talking, or fighting the entire time. Life is an interactive experience for them. They feel, smell, hear, taste, and ingest it ALL! I love this for them, but it also causes my heart to ache for them. As a mother I know these exhaustive qualities will one day give way to grown up heartaches for men, trying to make sense of a world in which plans often do not become ones reality. Will my boys who take in so much hurt more than others who seem to be happy watching? Do I wish for them to watch instead of being interactive partakers in life?

For now, I am jerked back into my current reality. Far from any newsrooms, or police scanners...But only a few short steps away from preparing four little boys the best I can for a world in which they must participate.