Cranky Jennie ;-p

Motherhood is an art form.  Think about it.  You are given a beautiful, perfect, innocent human being to foster and mold into a decent person.  When you do a decent job, your subject is a moral, functional member of society.  When you do a miserable job, your subject develops into a disastrous, miserable human being.

Ok, I’m simplifying this, but I think you get what I mean.  I don’t think I ever fully grasped the intricacies and difficulties of being a good mother before this tiny being was placed in my arms.  It was EASY in the beginning.  Sure, I was exhausted and up to my arm pits in poop and spit up, but she didn’t DO much of anything, so I didn’t have to discipline her or get upset with her.  All I did was take care of her every need, coo at her, make her giggle and awe at the wonder that was HER!  Maybe it’s a Supreme Being’s way of easing we mothers into it.

Because, once they move and talk, the real challenge begins!  It’s a challenge I meet well on some days and fail miserably at on others.  I have YET to meet a mother who thinks she’s Donna Reed.  Gone are the days of absolute respect for their elders.  Gone are the days of “children are seen and not heard”.  Where did they go?  You read all these articles about giving your child choices and fostering their self-esteem, but along the way, the chain of command seems to get muddled.

Or perhaps I’m just a wuss!  I admit that G is absolutely the disciplinarian in our house.  I can relate to school-age children on a softball field or basketball court, but not necessarily in my own house.  I try to be reasonable with them.  You can imagine how well THAT works!  They’re unreasonable by nature.  They want what they want when they want it.

My children are so secure at home that they fight me tooth and nail on EVERYTHING.  Who asked THEM???!!!!  I want my children to be self-confident, educated, opinionated, polite and moral.  I have high expectations of them because they’re smart, beautiful, amazing creatures (DUH, they’re MINE!). Yet, when they don’t measure up, I take it personally, rather than accept that they’re children who need to make their own way.  Perhaps if I trusted my own abilities as a “Good Enough” mother, I would embrace these mistakes as opportunities for growth for my girls.

I find it amazing that children seem to pick up your worst traits.  My oldest, R, is impulsive.  She acts before she thinks.  Yep, that’s from me.  My youngest, S, is stubborn and hyperactive.  Me, again.  I want them to learn from my mistakes and from my knowledge, but they don’t want to listen.  They want to make the same mistakes, fall on their faces and pick themselves up again.  That is SO hard to just witness when you’re a mother!!!

There is a fine line with guidance, love and discipline.  It is a line I am continuously trying to figure out.  I guess in the end, if your artwork is beautiful, stable and giving (and maybe a little wobbly), then you’ve done a good job.

I just wish someone had warned me before I chose this line of work!