aside My Little Lion Man

Weep for yourself, my man,

You’ll never be what is in your heart

Weep little lion man,

You’re not as brave as you were at the start

Rate yourself and rake yourself,

Take all the courage you have left

Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

But it was not your fault but mine

And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn’t I, my dear?

Didn’t I, my dear?

Tremble for yourself, my man,

You know that you have seen this all before

Tremble little lion man,

You’ll never settle any of your scores

Your grace is wasted in your face,

Your boldness stands alone among the wreck

Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck

But it was not your fault but mine

And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn’t I, my dear?

But it was not your fault but mine

And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn’t I, my dear?

Didn’t I, my dear?

But it was not your fault but mine

And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn’t I, my dear?

But it was not your fault but mine

And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn’t I, my dear?

Didn’t I, my dear?

Little Lion Man – Mumford and Sons

I listened to that song one very early morning in my first CrossFit gym for two and half hours straight on repeat while cleaning the gym.

I was contemplating divorce, I know it’s such a dirty word. I was a wreck. I had lost 20# in less than 6 weeks unintentionally.

I felt lost. I felt like I failed my son. I felt like was a huge disappointment.

My decision has been difficult and very gray. Nothing is black and white.

It is all so very gray.

I want to lie to my son and tell him that it’s all going to be ok.

I want to hold him tight and protect him with all my power.

I want to shield him from name calling, body shaming, lie telling, and everything else I have been hurt by.

However, coddling him with lies will set him up for an even more challenging and hurtful life.

Instead of telling him all the potential horrors of the world, I choose to selectively push him.

To harden him to pain and suffering but to keep him soft and open to the important things in life.

I have always tried to answer him as honestly as possible to any questions he ever asks me and provide explanation.

I have tried thus far to give him understanding with every lesson, punishment, and “no” I have given him.

He is kind and sweet with a beautiful heart. He has a tendency to want to please those around him, something I am trying to make him see that doing things or changing himself to please others is not a good path.

It is the finest of tight ropes I walk with him. There are days where I want to shake him or scream at him not because he is being bad but because I am overextended and tired and stressed. I resist.

I had a horrible nightmare the other night where I was standing behind Dennis washing his face in the bathroom sink. I was beyond angry with him. I was furious. I was no longer in control of myself. I slapped him, I shoved his face into the water, I scrubbed his face entirely too hard. The worst part was that I was enjoying it.

I woke up on the couch and felt like complete shit. I felt horrible. I felt as though I failed him. I had failed him in a way I would never recover from. That the person who has told him from day one that I was always going to be there for him wasn’t.

I felt like trash for the two days following that.

I know there are lessons all around me and that I didn’t actually do to him what I dreamed I did but it still hurts.

It hurts because I know he will be hurt. He will be hurt by friends, family, love.

I know I will not be there every time or every day.

There will be lessons I never prepare him for. There will be challenges that he will face that I didn’t give him the tools to handle.

He is turning 8, and my fear is there isn’t enough time. That if I was given twice as long there wouldn’t be enough time.

There will be a day where I put him down for the very last time. That he doesn’t want to hug or kiss me. That I will hear I love you for the last time.

Most of those fears are selfish. What I will lose. If I live in that fear I will end up holding him back. Making him dependent on me more than he should be. I want him to be self sufficient but be capable of asking for help, unlike me. I want him to be true to himself, whoever that will be.

I want him to be an eternal optimist grounded in the reality of the world. I want him to see that most people aren’t doing things to him or because of him but because of their own life challenges and issues. That their own struggles may be projected onto him and that those situations would happen regardless of his actual presence he was just the right person at the right time.

We can parent the short game or the long game. Much like approaching fitness, health, really anything we do.

We can take the easy way and make tremendous strides quickly and be seen as being awesome and cool but ultimately it is at the sacrifice of significant future growth and potential.

I saw a quote the other day “if we raise our children we can spoil our grandchildren. If we spoil our children we will have to raise our grandchildren.”

I have no clue if I’ll have grandchildren but the concept reaches home for me.

It’s a challenging path, I have no idea what is right or what is wrong. I feel lost at times, scared at times, happy at times, and everything else in between.

I guess that is what makes it the greatest job. The complete responsibility of a complete person. It’s all on the parent(s).

More than anything else he has given me patience, pause, and purpose beyond what I already knew.

It’s only been 8 years and it has already been a whirlwind.

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