Last Night, (Monday) is one of the less busy nights of the week. Between XX10's football and XX13's horseback riding and my school schedule, and the job that XY17 will be getting any day now, we have few opportunities for decent family dinners at normal dinner time. We can have canned soup and biscuits at either 4:30 or 8:15. Last night we had an actual cooked from scratch dinner at 6:00! (Chicken and dumplings if you're curious) About halfway through the dinner XY17 calmly announced that a kid that we have known for fourteen years is becoming an emancipated minor.
We have known, and in the past been very close to this family. I was so shocked I could barely finish eating. I have a rule to under-react when my kids tell me things that are happening with their friends. The reasoning is that if I don't over-react (my natural reaction) my kids will feel safe telling me things. Well this bit of news challenged that rule. The kid getting emancipated is 17, only a couple of months older than XY17. I knew that he was not getting along with his mom. Ironically, his mom, a dear friend of mine, and I, had a severe falling-out over an incident in which I told her I thought he was disrespectful and had terrible manners. I was judgemental and pissy about the falling out until last night when XY17 gave me the news.
I went outside and had a cig, (my normal reaction to any news) and thought about it. Like I said, I know this family well. I spent most of my friendship with this woman being fiercely jealous of her... wait for it... parenting skills. She is the type of mom who decorates her kids rooms so they look like advertisements for pottery barn. She gets up and makes them breakfast, as opposed to my normal morning routine, of coffee, paper, and "Don't forget to rinse your cereal bowl." She bakes, and has the whole family's schedule, including chores posted in her adorable vintage kitchen. Her boys got haircuts at regular intervals, something mine never got. I think XX10 is growing his hair out because it is easier than trying tho get me to take him to the barber. He has just decided to just own it. Lets call my friend Polly, I always compared myself very unfavorably to Polly. I always thought if I were more like her I would be a better mother. I really have self-recrimination down to an art. I suck at organization like you would not believe! I am about as consistent as, I don't even know, think of the least consistent thing that exists. It is more consistent than me. I have tried to be and do the things that I think a good mother should be and do, but I fall short more often than not. Her creativity and organizational skills blow mine out of the water. XY17 loved being at her house. It was always clean and smelled good. XY17 may walk into his own house at the end of a school day and have it clean and beautiful, in which case he will immediately ask who is coming over. He make walk in to the smell of something baking or cooking, there may be sewing supplies everywhere, or the house may be exactly as it was when he left that morning, with the blinds closed and the breakfast dishes in the sink because I decided to read all day. XY17 likes consistency. He chose badly when he chose me for a mother.
Here we are though. Polly and her husband are done with their son, and he is done with them. I am horrified, almost to the point of tears. I truly don't understand. My kids have been accusing me of not understanding for years. Well, this time they are right. I don't understand. I have always felt that my kids got the fuzzy side of the lollipop when it came to mothers. I know what my strengths are, but oh Lawdy, Lawdy, I know my weaknesses. Now, I find out, maybe I am not so bad. after all, I am still talking to my kids. Loudly sometimes, but talking. We forgive each other, and try to protect our relationships no matter what. I realize that something in my two older kids personality makes them easier to raise. They are both what would be classified "good kids" but I also know that Roser and I had a hand in it. As inconsistent as I am about housekeeping, I am adamant about what kind of home we have. I have never allowed name calling, there is no hitting, but even further than that, I have tried to create a home where the members feel safe. I always wanted a home where, upon entering, the members could breathe a sigh of relief, and set down what they have been carrying. I have been at least somewhat successful. Not perfect, but, my kids are not dying for excuse to leave the house. We try most nights to watch a TV show together. Yeah, I know, it's not family game night, but it's Our thing. I act happy to see my kids, whenever I see them, after school, in the morning when we wake up, whenever we have been apart from each other. I sign my text messages with 'love you' or xoxoxox. I guess these things have made up for the spotty housekeeping, or the extent of a chore chart being me yelling, "I can't do everything, I need some help here!" Just to be safe though, I got up and fixed the kids breakfast this morning.
1 comment:
You and I discussed this in depth today. I thought about it some more on the way home. I am NOT defending her actions, I still believe that there is nothing my children could do that would allow for emancipation. However, I think we both need to remember that we don't have the whole story. All we can do is take what we DO know and apply it as best we can to our own parenting and keep praying for a favorable outcome.
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