So… I was cruising around town in my minivan, bopping along to VeggieTunes and
desperately trying to drown out the whining coming from the back seat when something
wonderful happened.
I became my mother.
It all happened so fast. I really wasn’t prepared, but there it was. My 5- and 3-year olds were trying with all their might to convince me they didn’t need to take a nap. They. Weren’t. Tired! In between sobs, I hear, “It’s not fair!” And then it came spilling out of me before I could stop it—“Life’s not fair.” Three simple words that brought about immediate eye-rolling as a teenager have suddenly brought me so much joy that I couldn’t help but grin and feel a deep sense of pride. What other horrible parent phrases could I dig up from my past and use on my kids?
-If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?
-If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say
anything at all.
-Treat others the way you want to be treated.
-Because I said so.
Okay, so they’re not ALL horrible. I think my mom was just trying to make sure we turned into decent, respectable human beings. As a parent, isn’t that our main goal in life? We want our kids to (eventually) be kind, intelligent, successful people. Most days I’m not sure they’ll even make it to adulthood. My 3-year old cried for 10 minutes the other day because his ketchup was red. Ten minutes! At that moment I really started wondering what I was doing wrong. Some days—most days—I don’t feel adequate as a mom. I’m impatient. I burn dinner. I play hide-and- seek just so I can escape from them for short periods of time. And what makes it worse is that it seems like every other mom out there has it figured out. They are making intricate (and might I add—perfectly done) crafts, throwing elaborate Pinterest birthday parties, and the crazy thing is…they look happy ALL THE TIME. How do they do it? And I know, I know…nothing on Facebook is really as it seems, but nevertheless it still tends to eat at you when you feel like the only mom who has to walk into her kids’ school in PJs and slippers to sign them in late…yet again.
What keeps me going is the hope that when they’re older they won’t remember that time I forgot to buy wrapping paper and had to wrap their presents in old newspapers or that sometimes I eat their candy and then try to convince them they already ate it. I hope they remember that I taught them to be kind, to always do the right thing, that a smile can go a long way, that everyone has a story, that everyone deserves respect. They’re smart kids. I don’t worry whether or not they’ll be successful with careers or money. I worry about whether or not they will be rich in the things that truly matter. And it starts at home. They may not always see me sneaking their candy, but they are always watching. Listening. Learning. I learned that the hard way when I heard Charlotte (who was 3 at the time) yell “Oh shit!” from her car seat. Although, I actually blame my mother for that one, my point
still stands—they’re always listening.
So I’m going to keep up these wonderful mom-phrases. Maybe one day they’ll stick! And if I have time, I’m going to take a deep breath, eat some more of the kids’ chocolate, and just keep swimming in the hopes that some day they’ll do the right things because they want to and not just because I said so!
