Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Am I A Good Mother?

This parenting life is no joke! I would equate it to a bipolar theme park. Some days are filled with fluffy clouds, a happy caroling sun, skipping, hand holding, signing, laughter... ect... And some days are down right ominously dark, frightening, eyes clamped shut, teeth gritting, hopelessness taking root in the pit of your stomach, .....is this ride over yet......




As I'm nearing the end of my parenting experience with my oldest (we're one year away from 18), I am struck with how much I have royally screwed everything up! Over and over and over and over and..... well you get the point. I'm really not being hard on myself, because I have done billions of things right too. I recognize that I have loved my children well, but I am human, and mess up ALL the time. 

In their early years, I sheltered them too much. I was the helicopter mom; so afraid of them getting hurt or of someone hurting them. I had spent most of my childhood being victimized, which made me a little crazy and a way overprotective parent. Let's just say that I was extremely hypersensitive and anxious all the time. All. The. Time.  I was in-your-face confrontational. Who are you? What do you want? Don't touch my child? What is your ulterior motive, cause you've got one! Can you say paranoid! Lol! After many years of working these issues out with Jesus, fear and anxiety have lost their rule in my life. Oh! how I wish the story ended here, (LOL) but I am fully human --fully fallible.

Most people who know me well, know this about me; however, I will confess it publicly right here and right now. Not with pride! Not with joy! I am a cusser! Bad! I'm like a mix between a sailor, a truck driver, and a whore. See I told you! It's pretty dang bad!  And you can multiply that by one million when I'm with another cusser. I have been able to rid myself of countless bad habits and just habitual sin, but cussing is one that I constantly struggle with. Here goes my psychoanalysis:  it's not a habit but a choice --a matter of self control or the lack there of. That was hard to say! Lol! Self Control, you ask? Yes! I don't cuss in front of children, elderly, people I don't know, grocery store clerks, people in authority, ect... I also whisper cuss when I'm not sure. (LOL) See! It a choice! A conscience choice. 

When my kids were little I never cursed in front of them. (Choice!!) However, now that I have two teenagers, I feel like I've lost control over my foul mouthed droppings. My teens haven't driven me to drinking, they've driven me to cussing! This has me mussing over the long dreaded and judgment filled question, "Am I a good mother?" In the moment, there is nothing like the power of dropping the F-bomb that will end a heated hormonal filled fight. In the aftermath, I chastise myself for compromising my character for reaction's sake. 

The power that "WHAT THE F!!!! (but I say the whole thing) has to immediately halt three boys whose testosterone levels have compromised their better judgement creating a destructive tornado of fists, kicks, and spit in the middle of my living room, or hallways, or bathroom, or kitchen, or dining room, or their bedrooms or mine, in the street, in the car, in the store, at grandmas...is downright haunting. Here's where I get my foot stuck in the doodoo of justification. I can't be like, in my sweet mommy voice, "Now boys, come one, let's stop." Even when I yell, "BOYS!!!! STOPS!!!" Nope, it doesn't penetrate the Great Wall of Testosterone. They can't hear me, they are too busy pounding the crap out out each other. 



Here's the slippery slope: one F-bomb, one spit filled angry F-cry stops them dead in their tracks, mid punch, mid kick --like I've pressed pause on the remote of their lives. "Super effect tool," I say to myself in that moment. Then later say, " I suck at this thing called parenting! Why did Jesus trust me with these people! Why? He knows me! Why would he ever give me life to nurture! WHY!!??!!"

Right about now is the time that I love to end with an encouraging word and/or hope filled story of how I made it out. I haven't made it out. This is my actual truth right now, today. I wish it wasn't, especially since I still have one boy who is not a teen. I want him to experience the same innocence that was afforded to my older two. But my youngest boy's reality is that he lives with two teenagers, too. 

What I grieve the most is that I was so looking forward to this time in their lives. I had many mentors in my life remind me to enjoy the journey. Enjoy today, now. I couldn't wait for my boys to be older. I loved them when they were little; however, I couldn't wait for them to grow up and not be dependent on me for their every need.  I pictured a place where relationship filled the spot that dependence once held. Relationship! I couldn't wait. And then I get here, to the teen years, and they want nothing that resembles a relationship. Teenagers can be so thoughtlessly hurtful. Sometimes purposefully but most of the time it is thoughtless and careless actions and/or words. 

Moms and dads of little ones: cherish this time, relish every sweet moment, and revel in their innocence. I challenge you to refrain from being judgmental in all situations, because your sweet babies will be teens one day, and you may have to eat some humble pie. 

Parents of teens: join me in praying that we will revere (regard with respect tinged with awe) their transition into adult hood. My challenge, if you'll except: to recognize when we are standing in the middle of a sweet moment and celebrate it, fully. And make their accomplishments and good decisions a BIG DEAL!! It's so easy to focus on what looks like failure, so easy to only see attitude and stupidity. Let us today, be parents who will recognize the amazing character our kids have, and celebrate them individually. Let's choose today to like them! Lol! They are, after all, our life's work. Our great accomplishments. Our priceless masterpieces. The most valuable thing we will ever invest our time in. 

Will you take the challenge?

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