Tag: moms

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A Gift at My Expense

No sooner do I write a post about how much I hate hypocrisy than do I catch myself in it. Perhaps this is why I hate it so much. It is a sneaky, slippery slope, and easy to fall into.

My sister was coming to visit yesterday, which the kids always get really excited about, and I found myself making a secret phone call to her ahead of time asking her to smuggle in some Sour Patch Kids candies to replace the ones that I told the kids I’d share with them. I did share with them when we first opened the bag, but then over the course of the next week or so, I polished off the rest. (Insert *eek face*. I rarely buy sour gummies and this is why!)

The kids have probably forgotten about those candies already, but rather than face the prospect of telling them that I’d eaten the rest without them, I was trying to pull of a scam. I could hear my inner voice accusing me, pointing a finger and demanding me to remember what I had just posted about. I could feel the familiar grasp of shame starting to creep in, so I looked at that. What was I worried about? What was I trying to avoid? It was more than likely that the kids wouldn’t even ask about those candies and I wouldn’t have to face it. But more importantly, what lessons was I robbing them of if I just pulled off my scam and replaced the candies? What would I be doing to myself by bringing yet another bag of those delicious temptations into the house again?

Wouldn’t it be better to be honest with them? I know, as a kid, it didn’t help me at all to try and believe that my parents were perfect when I could clearly see they weren’t––nobody is.

I didn’t go through with the candy smuggling. And if the kids ask about the candies at some point, I will tell them they got eaten and that one day we can buy more. And it will probably be a good opportunity to talk with them about self-control, and even some strategies to help us with our self-control.; like not buying a lot of candy and keeping it in the house.

Rather than save my pride, I decided to give my kids the gift of this opportunity to learn about how not perfect their mother is, so that they too can be relieved of that incredible pressure to be perfect.

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Haircut

I got my haircut yesterday––yes, I know, I’m a rebel. Or maybe the person who cut my hair is a rebel. Maybe we both are. Personally, I see nothing criminal about getting a haircut, but the way things are going these days, people are being treated like criminals for a heck of a lot less; just for daring to breathe freely while buying groceries, for example.

But anyway, that’s not what this post is about. Because I went and got my bootleg haircut, my eight-year-old daughter wanted one too. And, because you can’t just go out and get a haircut these day, she wanted me to do it.

Aside from the haircut I gave my two-year-old sister when I was four, and maybe the infamous self-directed bangs that seem to be a rite of passage for all teenage girls, I have never cut hair. What I can appreciate here in this situation is my daughters complete confidence in my ability to give her what she wants. I told her I have basically zero experience in cutting hair and that I had to first see if I even still had the pair of old hairstyling shears which, despite the fact that I never cut hair, I do still have. (Ask me where they came from, I couldn’t really tell you; probably my dad because he seems to think it’s important to be prepared for every situation with items that you would rarely use otherwise––thanks Dad!) Nonetheless, none of these minor attempts to discourage the idea that I should be the one to cut her hair deterred my daughter.

I watched a few videos about how to layer hair and how to cut curly hair, etc. I know a thing or two about taking care of curly hair thanks to my own curls, but I never cut my own hair. However, we are in extraordinary circumstances and I’m sure many people have resorted to experimenting with things they never would have otherwise. One of the beautiful things about this is that I am learning that I am capable of so much more than I have given myself credit for.

So I cut the girls hair. I did it. I decided not to go too short so that we’d have room to get it fixed if I totally botched it. But guess what? It turned out very well! If I had a day-job I wouldn’t be quitting it, as the saying goes. But, my daughter trusted me with her look and I did something new because of it. After I cut it, we washed her hair and I showed her how to properly care for curly hair––because up to this point she would just brush it into a frizz. We washed it with special shampoo to clean it up, then washed it with conditioner to help smooth the frizz. I showed her that a more delicate, smooth towel, or even an old t-shirt to squeeze out the excess water will reduce frizz. We put in a special curl cream and then diffused it. I showed her a whole new routine; it was time just for the two of us. And she gets to go back to school with a “new look” after the Christmas break.

Sometimes, being a mom can feel like a thankless job. But moments like this make me realize how much she values me, my input and the little things I can do to care for her. And that is a gift.

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It’s Just a Phase

Please tell me it’s just a phase. Logic tells me it’s just a phase, but long days and short years feel otherwise; my kids are bickering all the time! Ok, maybe not all the time, but let’s say 95% of their waking time together in our house. Again, I could have a biased point of view here, (insert eye-roll), but nevertheless, it feels non-stop.

Does anyone else notice this: there’s three of them and when all three of them are together it’s non-stop bickering, but when there’s only two of them it’s quite nice. Is this like an odd-number thing? If there were four of them would it be different? Maybe, but I’m not planning to find out!

How do I make it stop? Can I make it stop? Maybe what’s more important is, what can I learn from this situation? One of the factors that played into wanting lots of kids, (I have four in total, but the oldest does not fall into this bickering squad), was because I am fascinated by learning about people, their personalities, what makes them tick, what they like and dislike, everything. I love getting to know people; I’ll be getting to know these kids all my life.

Life has a way of giving you exactly what you need. A dear friend of mine told me something along the lines of “You either marry or give birth to what you need to work on.” (I think it was something a friend said to her so sorry I’m not quoting the source, kudos to you, Wise Person, whoever you are!) Not to say you have to work on the people in your life, but rather that they reflect back to you your own issues that need attention. Couple that with the very real reality that it’s also your responsibility to help shape the children you choose to raise into conscious adults that can make wise choices for themselves and society, and you can see why most of us are in for an eye-opener when we take on the task of raising children.

We are having lots of talks about kindness lately. Lots of reminders that each day and each argument is an opportunity to practice kindness and patience. Almost constant reminders that each of us is responsible for our own choices, not the choices of others, and that we always have the choice to choose kindness––sometimes I fail at this, too. I’m still a work in progress, and these days I have plenty of opportunities to practice patience!