Beanbag Parenting

"I am awake, therefore I am making a mess, creating laundry and will soon need something to eat.” feels like the incessant pattern of life with young children.  The complete lack of recognition of the totality of the demands contributes to the overwhelming exhaustion. I always thought that, as Inuit famously have 19 words for snow, parents of young children need at least 19 words to capture the different types of feeling tired.

I started to feel like a beanbag – the shape that I was in did not matter – what mattered was that I could make them comfortable and provide support, regardless of how angular their elbows or how heavily they are feeling the weight of the world. Beanbags are objects you take for granted – you just need them to be there so you can throw yourself on them and they adapt to your shape. But, when I was living in a culture where looking after my own toddler was considered an unusual decision in some ways, I started reflecting on the fact that being taken for granted is in some ways a privilege.  I reflected on this a lot – taking her with me to see her big sister at school events was considered decidedly odd, often inconvenient and disruptive. I was often asked why I didn’t leave her at home with ‘the lady’, a generic name for live-in help, which we chose not to do.  I was aware I was making a deliberate choice - to put myself and my life not entirely at her disposal but to accommodate it around her needs. I found it a struggle and was very grateful for the times she was cared for by someone coming to the house and in childcare. 

During this time abroad, I met regularly with two other mothers to chat and pray for our children. As I listened to one of them describe their struggles with a pre-teen daughter, I could hear through her stories, despite her frustration, that it was her constant, grounded love that was providing the security for all her daughter’s emotions.  It’s almost impossible to see that in your own situation and I wanted to encourage her, and all parents, that the everyday ways in which we serve our children forms a bedrock for their trust.

As I started to write about this, the realisation dawned that God, as our parent, experiences being taken for granted all the time - the provision of the earth, our very existence, lives, families, health, resources - everything we owe to his creative energy. But yet, like the parents, being taken for granted, this is the starting point for building trust. Just like our children grow and can’t stay in the beanbag and need to take responsibility for themselves, God invites us to go beyond the ‘beanbag’ stage and notice and respond to his provision, with all the complexity that brings.  

This poem on a postcard has been shared in churches on Mothering Sunday and read out at a European conference. Readers have said "your poem is speaking encouragement to all sorts of Mothers", and “"I'm wondering if you already know about [friend’s name] I was going to message you and your poem seems so relevant." 

My Child

Your children do not see you are the ground beneath their feet.
Their window on the world, they look through you to those they meet.
They notice your provision only when it might fall short,
 And thrash out all their feelings without giving yours a thought.

But underneath their feet is where you catch them when they fall,
They see life with their minds framed by your worldview on it all.
They carry something with them of your forethought every hour,
 And your secure embrace is what they need to grow and flower.

'My Child, let my Divine love be the rock on which you stand,
Your needs are met through all that was created by My hand.
There's nothing you can say or do to lessen My embrace.
The love you bear your children is an echo of My grace.

 So be their rock and comfort, be their guide and compass too,
And lead them daily in My love, and you will point them true.'