I love being a mom. I truly do but there are days, the days in which you specifically remember asking your child if they actually searched for the overdue library book. Or did they pull everything out of their backpacks, those are the days that even though in the grand scheme of things do not mean much, can ruin any chance of a good day.
My sons are a little older, they are at an age where they don’t need mom following behind them picking everything up. They can grab the bowls from the cupboard, they do not need me in the mornings to get their breakfast. But this morning, this morning was a particularly frustrating morning, I literally wanted to pull my hair out. This month has been crazy, activity, after activity. Everyone is tired except for my youngest and he lately has developed a thing for talking back. I can’t stand it! When asked if he did something, he says yes. When it turns out it is the opposite, I am wrong! Ugh! Are you kidding kid! It has been none stop and I don’t get it. This morning he had to get his swim bag ready and complained that he couldn’t find his swim trunks. So immediately the search began. He cried that he hung them up on the towel rack, which is odd because if he did they would have been there. In his world he does everything he is told, it is someone else fault. Someone else took it, he did everything as he was told. And so when it turns out that he was wrong, disbelief sets in. What! No fair! Yeah, mom is not fair, she found your stuff where it didn’t belong. Ouch!
And no sooner does that happen, I am reminded of something from the past, me at his age doing the same thing with my mom. I saw it in his eyes, the look of “how is that possible!” And I hear myself, in my mother’s voice, all of a sudden I jolt because of the weirdness. The circle of mother and child is never done, it keeps going. And I am sure that when my kids have their own family, they too will jolt in the weirdness. Being a mom, a parent is a unique. We often see ourselves in our kids at the best and worse times. It is cool to them do things you have done in the past and yet, the moment they turn, there you are back as an 8 year old! Ugh! But they are my kids and are a by product of how I raise them.
Part of me gets scared, because I always worry that my kids will become the adult version of me. I have had a hard time adjusting and now in my late 30’s, I feel more adjusted and more mature and like an adult. I am always scared that I will screw my kids up. And there are those time where I see them, so happy, adjusted and so smart. I tear up at the thought that I am doing ok, I do not ever want to fail them. I want to give them a normal life, different from mine.
In a way it’s cool that they are in some way, just like me.