Thursday, January 26, 2012

I encountered a Mom today who had to be tough with her son.  He showed up to Jiu Jitsu with puffy red eyes and streaks on his face.  Like a "man" though, he claimed allergies, and pressed on.

It broke her heart more than it did his.  She spent most of the evening nose deep in a parenting book, hoping to gain the affirmation she needed to justify her reactions.

It was pretty obvious.  

I didn't say anything, sometimes it is just better to pretend all is right with the world. 

She then opened up.  I think she needed to just vent.  Im good at listening, especially if you repeat, a lot..

We swapped difficult mommy moments, and then agreed that childbirth was no where near painful as it is to have to discipline your child.  What sucks, is childbirth only happens once for each child.  But discipline is a long and gruesome torture that follows.....  The kid will eventually forget what they got disciplined for, but the Mom, she will be haunted with it for eternity. 

I totally know how she feels.  It is absolutely unbearable to see my child hurt.  Even more so when it is me that is causing the pain.

But, at the same time, I have to keep it in check.  Sometimes my kid(s) will need to be upset, angry, hurt, frustrated......  It is part of life. 

I remember being mad at my parents. 

There was that big argument in 1990 when my Dad wanted me to buy this atrocious jacket.  It was a Pea Coat, navy blue.  At the time my 11 year old behind was 'like OMG DAD, you canNOT expect me to go to school wearing that!"...........  I own one now, LOVE it, and accessorize it with and awesome cream colored scarf, red or yellow if I'm feeling bold.  

I won that argument, and found myself in what can only be described as the 1980s on crack.  It was graphic, geometric and florescent.  It matched my obnoxious Aqua Net bangs and Keds perfectly....  And was "lost" the following year, when the 1990s hit and it was all about grunge.....

Do I remember the time I drove my friend's car into the light post in our yard?  Sure I do.  But Ill play stupid if you ask.  I have to pretend to be perfect to keep my kids on their toes for now.  When they have kids of their own, oh heck yeah.  That story comes out of the mothballs with "improvements"......  I grew up with knowledge of the DeLorean...... Back To The Future Baby......

This morning I argued with Izzy as she attempted to justify Ballet Flats with Sweat Pants.  Oh Hell to the F-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.  I get that sweat pants are comfy, BUT I am not raising my child to become the next poster child for the People of Wal-Mart.  A Mother must have standards.  Fortunately, mine are clearly lined out.......  And her skinny jeans were recenlty washed.

That was followed with a stand off in the kitchen. Ike wanted chocolate, it was 6:30 in the morning, and we have standards......  Well, that and I had no chocolate to concede with.

There was also the Homework argument.  "WHY didn't you finish your Math when you made me remember the damn Algebra lastnight?"  Heck NO, Im not going to write you a note stating you had other "obligations"....

"No, you cannot commandere your brother's legos in order to build a megatropolis, only to melt it down with matches your friend gave you, while explaining how to mask the smell of melting plastic.......  And WHAT DO YOU MEAN "your brush is broken"?!??!?!?!?!?!?!"

What made me feel good this evening, said friend who was down about being tough on her kid.  Well, I'm not the only one arguing with their kids about grades, behavior, body odor.........  She is right there with me.  And she prefers white, so I don't have to share my Garnacha with her.......


No comments:

Post a Comment