I failed as a parent today. Or I think I did. I’m not sure. Do you ever wonder if your kids are going to end up in therapy because you didn’t give them enough attention? Or too much attention? I know I’m screwing my kids up–we’re all screwed up! Of course we’re making mistakes that will affect them! The hope is that it’s just screwing them up in small, non life-altering ways. “Quirks” vs “Issues.”
But I don’t know about today. It was the parenting equivalent of rolling the dice–either it was a great learning opportunity or future issues to tackle during therapy. I was either Super Mom or super mean. And I’m honestly not sure which.
Today was a beautiful fall day! The sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant blue, the leaves were showing off their colors like a kid on a stage! Yellow, orange, red–they were all twirling like ballerinas as they fell to the ground. It’s their season to standout, and it was breathtaking. We’re trying to soak up as much vitamin D from the sun as we can before it’s overcast for the next five months. Since my daughter has been begging to go on a bike ride the last few days, I suggested it this afternoon. It was a bit chilly, but please! We are born-and-raised Minnesotans–we scoff at these temps! We put warmer clothes on and headed out.
My two-year old son got to ride in his car that I push, and my four-year old daughter suddenly changed her mind and wanted to ride her scooter. I hate that scooter. I hated it from the moment I overpaid for it on a Facebook garage sale site.
“It’s going to be a long walk, Kiddo. I think your bike would be better.”
“I can do my scooter. I’m really good at it!”
“I know, but it’s a lot more work to use a scooter than it is to use a bike. If you get tired halfway through the walk you’re going to have to walk and drag your scooter.”
“Okay, Mommy! I really want to do my scooter. I can do my scooter. It’s okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to do your bike? I’m not going to drag your scooter for you if you decide to walk. It’s your decision and you’ll have to live with the consequences, even if it means walking and dragging your scooter and being tired.”
“No, I want to do my scooter.”
Groan. I know exactly how this is going to go. EXACTLY! I’m a mom. I’m like a chess player thinking ten steps ahead. I know how this is going to play out! Simply put, it’s gonna suck. And guess what?
It sucked.
A lot.
My husband and I are trying harder to be more consistent in our parenting. If we say something, we mean it. Whether it’s making promises to do fun things or following through with discipline. We have to stand by and follow through with what we say to our kids so they believe what we say is true. So if I warn my son that if he keeps talking about poop at the dinner table there will be consequences, he believes me. So if I promise my daughter we’re going to the zoo tomorrow, she believes me. So when I hug and kiss them and tell them how much I love them, they believe me. There are a lot of people in this world that lie, deceive, con, and bend the truth, but Mommy and Daddy are straight shooters. If we give you our word, you can trust in it.
We’re also talking about taking responsibility and ownership for the things we do right or wrong. All our decisions have consequences–some good, some bad. Yes, you may bring a toy to the store, but it’s your responsibility and if you leave it there, it will be gone. We’re not buying another one. No, you don’t have to take a nap, but if you do, you can stay up later.
So when my daughter opted to ride her scooter, I knew a storm of disaster was building and heading our way.
We weren’t even off our street before she complained about the scooter! Maybe five to six houses down. I was so tempted to turn back and get her bike, but I had to be consistent and follow through! I warned her she would be responsible for her choice and that we would do the entire walk no matter what. As soon as we turned off our street, she was done with the scooter and opted to walk, and by walk, I mean drag her scooter behind her at a snail’s pace. Fine. I’ll comply. It’s a beautiful day. We’ll just take it slow. I’m a patient mom, see?
It took us 45 minutes to go maybe 3/4 mile. That’s 45 minutes of discussing and re-discussing why I’m not dragging her scooter for her, why she can’t ride in her brother’s car and drag her scooter while I push them both (points for creativity though, Kiddo!), why she has to walk and pull her scooter if she doesn’t want to ride it, and if she won’t wear her helmet she won’t ride it.
“Come on, Kiddo. One more hill and we’re almost home. You can do it. We’ll take it slow.”
Cue the whining.
“We’re at the top of the hill! You can ride your scooter down now and it’ll be really easy! I see our street!”
Cue the tears.
“Come. On. Kiddo. We’re almost home. I bet Daddy will be home by now, too.”
Cue the meltdown.
We managed to pull it together–she was barely holding on. I was hanging by a thread to my patience. But we were SO close to home! Three more minutes and we’d be home! We’re going make it!
“Mommy, where’s your favorite hat?”
SNAP.
The last thread of my patience broke.
I quickly weighed the value of my hat. It was $5 from the dollar section at Target. BUT I LOVE THAT HAT. It was only $5–easily replaced. WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO REPLACE IT?! I HAVE GIVEN UP SO MUCH AS A PARENT ALREADY! I SPLURGED AND ACTUALLY BOUGHT SOMETHING FOR MYSELF WITH THAT HAT! AND I ONLY SPENT $5! I’M KEEPING THAT HAT!
“Turn around, we’re going back to find my hat.”
Cue the tears.
“Okay, I’ll call Daddy and see if he’ll pick you up on his way home.” Which rubbed me wrong because it felt like I wasn’t following through and making her do the whole walk like I said she would have to, but come on. We’re having to back track. I’ll cut her a break.
So I call my husband as we’re walking back to find my hat and we’re waiting at a crosswalk for a car to go by (because despite state law, no one stops for pedestrians in a crosswalk!). As I’m explaining the situation to my husband while watching the car, my daughter starts crossing the road. I scream, “STOP!!! What are you doing?! There’s a car!” Of course my fear is only transferred to her and she starts sobbing. Meanwhile, my husband thinks I’ve called because we were in a car accident. No, I’m just trying to find my flipping $5 hat from Target!
We eventually find it after more tears and that same big hill. But by now, it was shorter to keep going along our current path to get home. My daughter, my son, and I were tired, and by then it was even later and even colder. Finally, my husband pulled up and hopped out of the car. He told me he’d walk the kids home and I can drive his car home.
“She’s not riding her scooter back! She’s crying! She’ll never make it up the hill!”
“Kiddo, you want to ride in the car or ride your scooter back?”
“Umm, I’ll ride my scooter back.” Seriously?! Whatever, I’m done. I’m getting in the car.
It was a very short drive home, but in that small amount of time I had some really big thoughts. Was I a good mom forcing her to take responsibility for her actions and choices? Or a bad mom for forcing her to take responsibility for her actions and choices? And my husband. My beloved husband. My parenting teammate who always knows when to tap in when I’m tapped out. When I’m worn out and tired, he steps it up even more. When the burden is heavy for me, he carries my load too. Super Dad.
Why did I write this small novel? I’m not sure. Maybe so you know that every mom has hard days, every mom feels like they fail sometimes. Maybe because motherhood is plagued with questions we’ll never know the answers to–a constant guessing game crossing your fingers and hoping it’s the best. Maybe so you don’t feel alone. Maybe so I don’t. Maybe so you’ll be reminded that you’re not a bad mom. Maybe so you’ll remind me. Because I’m still not sure. Was I smart to follow through? Or stupid to go back for the hat–that stupid $5 hat!
I’m a good mom, a mom who has sacrificed so much of herself for her kids, a mom who gives and gives, and when she’s empty she somehow gives some more, and all I wanted was the cheap hat I spent $5 on for myself. I didn’t want to sacrifice that too. For once, I was thinking about myself because despite constantly putting my kids first, my needs are important too! They’re not invisible or quickly abandoned and left behind! Of course I would give up everything for my kids, but if I give up me too, what’s left for them? It was a $5 hat, but maybe it was also me lost and left behind in the adventure of motherhood. I needed that hat back. And I went back for it at the expense of my kid’s tears. Was that wrong? Mean? Bad?
I don’t know…but I got my favorite hat back.
