For Mother’s Day Let’s Reflect on our Children not Others.
There was a cartoon called Baby Blues and in one strip a woman tore down another woman about how she was raising her kids. In the last box the mom from the series looked at the woman and said, “I was a great mom too, before I had kids.”
With Mother’s Day tomorrow I have to tell you I was a great mom until my son was about six. Although he’d been in school for two years, he’d entered a new phase of his life. One that affected me as a mother. He was now around others. It’s not like I’d never had someone complain about my son for one thing or another, but now it was school, scouts, sports…everywhere my son’s behavior was in question. Why? He might say no to me in public. Didn’t you know that children never disagree with their parents? And never in public. They never are allowed to throw a fit because their mother says no to an item in a store.
Now by fit it was more of a I’m not going to move from this spot no matter what you say to me. There wasn’t a reincarnation of a sixties protester who flopped on the ground while screaming at the top of his lungs, maybe because I’d taught him that was the quickest way to be stuck on a chair for five minutes in the middle of a room. But who knows, remember I’m the bad mother.
It’s been six years of parents throwing their guilt onto me. Sure I should have realized this sooner. Anytime my son achieved more than another child a parent would give me the look if my son even so much as walked too slow after a game. My husband always says “we have a good kid.” Yes, we do. Sadly I feel every comment as a direct accusation of my inability to parent.
My health both physically and mentally is at a breaking point. Although it would be easy for me to blame others, I am the one that lets their comments affect me. I can’t understand the constant need of others to tare down another to build themselves up. I’m told to take chances on people and live in society, but every step I take outside my house the more I want to lock myself in my room.
Intellectually I know I shouldn’t take each accusation as a personal failure, but it’s hard not to. Everyone wants to be the best mother than can be. They want to guide their children to become the best person for themselves. Too many people live through their children instead of letting their children live. I know I can’t stop people from trying to tell me what my son’s doing wrong instead of looking at their own children and admitting theirs aren’t the perfect angels, but I am going to take steps to recognize what their real intention is.
Are they trying to protect my child from danger? Or are they just trying to distract me from the way their child is acting? If it’s the latter this is my one and only warning, I know your child smokes, swears, bullies, cheats on homework, throws fits and needs medication to function in society. Why don’t I tell you? Because I’m only responsible for one child, mine. How about you turn around and parent yours instead of trying to get me to correct mine from making errors that are much less egregious then yours.
There’s a saying in basketball. “The ball don’t lie.” Simply put, you can call a foul when a shot is missed, but when you miss the free throws, it’s an indicator of what you’re really entitled too.