“I think that the best thing we can do for our children … is to allow them to be strong, allow them to experience life on their own terms … let them be better people, let them believe more in themselves.”
— C. Joybell C.
“I am your mother, not your friend.” How many times did I have to reiterate that to our children when they were growing up? I had to set boundaries, make rules and model good behavior (that one being my greatest challenge). My job was safety and civilizing.
This meant that sometimes I had to be “the bad guy.” To be honest, sometimes they needed — even requested — the bad guy.
We had codes for when they were asked to do something they really didn’t want to do. Sometimes they spoke up, but other times it was easier and more acceptable to just “blame mom.” I was happy to serve.
I suffer from high-self esteem and have a close circle of friends my own age. Thus, I was confident that I would survive not being “the cool mom.” Quite frankly, I would have been horrified had I been one.
I had my childrens’ backs, yes, but I also taught accountability, responsibility and adaptability. All the “ilities” are so important, really.
Fast
Then one day, your children grow up. It is shocking how quickly it happens. If you’re really blessed, it is also absolutely awe-inspiring how amazing it is.
A friend recently shared one of the many memes circulating that serve to remind parents that, if we are lucky, we “only” get 18 summers with our children. Our children are both grown adults in their 20s so I have definitely used up all those “childhood” summers and then some.
As we faced a crisis with our beloved dog, Nova Grace, I was spiraling. I admit it. I am embarrassed by it, but no amount of tough love, reminding me that there are people with cancer in the world, people facing deep loss or trying to “live day by day” stopped the crushing anticipatory grief.
A dear friend advised “if it’s important to you, it is important to God.” This keeps me grounded in Faith. Nonetheless it does NOT keep me from my appointed rounds of being completely obsessive compulsive and researching canine cancer.
I have joined numerous canine cancer groups. I research special diets. I am spending our retirement fund on supplements and second and then third opinions.
Through it all in the midst of her own sadness, GirlWonder has been a rock, a guide and a wonder to me. I have been awed, humbled and blessed with how astute, comforting and helpful she is. When did my concern for how the children would handle a loss turn into the children being concerned about me?
Nova was chosen by GirlWonder seven years ago, and Nova was supposed to be her dog. Then the dog stole my heart, so I stole the dog, sort of. By the time GirlWonder moved out and married, there was no doubt that Nova was staying with us. There is a reason our dogs, Jackson and Nova, are called “child replacement dogs” by our son — said with love and humor, of course.
I have always been the adult in our relationship. I have nursed her, rocked her and kissed boo-boos of the flesh and of the heart. I have carried her on my hip, taken her by the hand and sent my heart along with her more times than I can count. I held her hand and walked her through the doors of her preschool classroom. Her father took her arm and walked her through the doors of her childhood church to marry the young man who stole her heart.
Learn
Life skills are acquired while our children live with us. Most are picked up as they observe us moving through our grown-up lives. We can’t possibly teach our kids everything before launching them into the world, but, oh, how we try. I tried very hard to model stoicism and strength, but the truth is, I’m a crier. We do best if we focus on lessons that teach our children problem-solving, build self-confidence and encourage healthy coping skills.
If you are rocking a small child, facing the start of elementary school or the end of high school or college, fear not. There is a certain freedom in letting go of “I am not your friend.” I’m probably still not even remotely cool, and I’m okay with that. I cry a lot now.
Our daughter is now my best friend. I still mother her when she needs it, and I’ll always be her mom first. It’s amazing to think that the person I taught to walk, talk and hold a spoon is now carefully guiding me through hard things.
