Kurt and I are raising three amazing kids. The responsibility is humbling to say the least. We brought Alex home from the hospital before I was old enough to purchase alcohol or rent a car. It’s so silly, but I honestly remember thinking, “Are they seriously going to let us just take this baby and leave? No credit check or anything?”

I can’t say that now, almost 11 years later, that I feel much more qualified or equipped. Every stage is something new, and each child is so unique that what worked for one doesn’t necessarily work for the other. Add to that the fact that God chose to bless us with “an Isaac”, and I regularly feel outmatched and under-geared.

One of the primary battlefronts in my mind has to do with whether or not I am “succeeding” as a parent. Am I giving them the love and attention they need? Will they be equipped or am I handicapping them in some way? There are always so many things to improve upon as a parent – so many great resources and suggestions. But then comes the child that defies all of the rules. There are no handbooks for these kids, only trial and error and experience.

Isaac is the one that keeps us on our knees in prayer. He is also the one that is the most empathetic and affectionate of the three (outwardly, at least). Officially, Isaac has been diagnosed with ADHD and a transient tic disorder. Isaac struggles with emotion regulation, impulsivity and hyperactivity as well as compulsive behaviors and attention issues (both over-attention and under-attention). The labels have given me some context as a parent and confirm that I’m not just imagining that he responds differently to instruction and correction than my other two kids, but the labels don’t define him. I won’t let them. Raising “an Isaac” brings out the very best and the very worst in me. I’m realizing, though, that he and I are uniquely suited for each other, and God has knit our hearts together in a special way.

I know I’m not the only mom who has ever raised an Isaac, but it can seem a lonely road at times when you’re afraid to leave the house because you have no idea when the next tantrum or impulsive outburst will force you to abandon a half-full shopping cart and remove your family from the grocery store. My hope is to offer some reassurance to other moms that may feel alone or discouraged. I don’t have tips or tricks, but I have some experience and the benefit of some comforting conversations and revelations.

Here are a couple of things I’m discovering:

1. My child’s behavior does not define me. His poor choices do not mean I am a bad parent. So many times I have felt the eyes of others on me while he screams in defiance or rudely interrupts my conversations. I’ve turned red with shame and apologized on behalf of my wayward child. Why? I’m guilty of attaching my pride and even sometimes my sense of value to my kids’ behavior. That’s too much pressure for any child to cope with. The words, “I am ashamed of you” weigh more than most will ever understand. My child is not responsible for any shame I may feel. Sure, we may be embarrassed sometimes, especially with kids’ boldness and lack of tact, but shame comes from a misplaced sense of value, and my value should be placed on the shoulders of my God, not my kids.

2. How many times have we heard (or said ourselves) “Why doesn’t she just get her kid under control?” Isaac has taught me that “control” isn’t the goal. There is nothing I could do to “control” him that wouldn’t be utterly damaging. God, the model parent, doesn’t try to control us. He leads and guides and instructs. There are natural consequences to our decisions, but sometimes we learn the most by making mistakes. Some of Isaac’s greatest teaching moments come in the wake of some pretty riotous tantrums. Yes, he needs to learn self-control and, more importantly, how to be guided by the Spirit of God in him, but my job is not to control my child. My responsibility is to lead and guide and instruct him.

3. Keep an eye on the big picture. Each of my kids has gone though a “picky eater” stage. Annabelle was once interested in cold hot dogs and nothing else. The pediatrician said that it’s not as important what they eat every day as what I’m able to get into them over a week’s time. As long as it all balances out at the end of the week, it’s Ok to have a cold hot dog day every now and then. (Gross) I’m learning it’s the same with most things in parenting. Some days we just have to reboot, change directions, let go of whatever expectations I had for that day and come back to it later. Most of the time, I can tell the difference between when Isaac is whining because he doesn’t want to do something and when he simply can’t for whatever reason at the moment. I have also learned to pick my battles. Who cares if he insists on wearing two different shoes as long as he has clean underwear on? Today might seem like the worst day ever, but that doesn’t mean that tomorrow will be horrible. God’s grace is sufficient – even for an Isaac.

I’m so grateful for my family and for the gift that is my Isaac. I know that God has huge plans for his life, and I’m excited to see what will come of all of these eccentricities. He is uniquely wired for a unique purpose, and I’m humbled to be a part of it.