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Laugh at Life - Ode to Mothers - Part Two

In my last article I admitted to only some of my parenting mistakes, after my eldest daughter expressed doubt in being a “good” mother. (By the way … thanks to those who sent my children condolences.
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In my last article I admitted to only some of my parenting mistakes, after my eldest daughter expressed doubt in being a “good” mother. (By the way … thanks to those who sent my children condolences.)

When my children were still fairly young, “Mother’s Day” was approaching when I complained, to my own mom, of how disappointed I’d been on those days, in years past.

She gave me the following sage advice:

“You need to tell them exactly what you expect. Children, and certainly men, cannot read your mind.”

So, the very next time we sat down for supper, I told my family this …

“Children,” I began sweetly, glancing at my husband as well, “Mother’s Day is soon upon us and I would like to make my expectations clear. As much as I appreciate your often last-minute crayon drawings and paper crafts, this year I will also be expecting other things—items that I would actually like.”

Our eldest daughter glanced immediately at the list I’d made. She then looked at her father and asked, “Can you take me shopping?”

My mother was not wrong. I’ve always enjoyed Mother’s Day ever since, and I do not care if the gifts given are out of obligation or not.

Not long after that, however, proof of my less-than-appealing parenting became painfully clear.

(Please understand, firstly, that where I was a less-than-perfect parent, my husband was, and is, as near to perfection as anyone can be. I believe that’s why God put us together. After all … everyone should have the most important person in their life be far, far better than themselves. Don’t you agree? I know it warms my heart.)

It was during another of our family dinners, when one of our children was telling us of a friend whose parents had recently divorced. This suddenly became of great concern to each of our three children and one of them inevitably asked, “What would happen to us if you and daddy got a divorce?”

After I assured them that it wasn’t our plan, I stupidly added, “But if it were to happen, you’d have to each decide who you’d want to live with.”

I’m being serious when I say, not even a split second passed before all three of those ingrates yelled, “I’m going with Dad!”

Admittedly, that hurt a little but I could, objectively, see their point.

My, then young, daughter (the one who questions her own parenting skills now) saw my rather shocked expression and said, “Don’t worry Mommy. I’ll come visit you.”

True empathy in a tiny person—right there—and, from what I’ve seen, I don’t think that kid should ever worry about her parenting.

I believe that mothers do the best they can—from the drool to the after-high-school. Be encouraged! You have the toughest job out there and … if mine can survive me … yours will make it too! Have a blessed Mother’s Day! You deserve it!