I am just like my mother

My mother is amazing! She is generous, creative, industrious, loving, determined and independent. I am thankful that she has raised me to have some of these same traits. When we were young, she always stayed at home with us, when most moms were working. She was my world and I adored her.

Then, around the time I became a teenager, my parents divorced. As many of us know, divorce changes our perspective on everything. And that included my mom. I saw that she was not perfect after all. She made mistakes. Yet, despite these trials, I somehow managed to survive puberty with our relationship intact.

I am still unsure of the day it happened, but I know from experience that most woman reach an age when one fact is unavoidable: they are just like their mother! This is not on purpose. It is probably not even conscience. These are the things you do when no one is around, the decisions you make on a day-to-day basis, how you handle stress, how you treat your children, how you talk to your husband. Yep, all learned from good old mom!

Then you have your own daughter, and it starts from the beginning. She learns from you. You are her role model, and all that you know is what your mom taught you. That is when you turn to Motherhood for Dummies, many self-help books and possibly years of counseling.

Unfortunately, it all comes back to this simple fact. You are just like your mother! Go ahead say it: “I am just like my mom.” Cherish it, embrace it. Take all those good and bad qualities she gave you and build on them. They are the foundation, and each mother is a stepping stone for the next generation.

Let them value you

Many small, life long events led to my loss of value. Because I battle feelings of worthlessness, I manage to sabotage my own efforts. I never feel like I deserve the best. I wonder if I am worthy of the affection I am given. Am I worthy of the many blessings I have received? Feelings of unworthiness are like rust, they slowly and corrosively damage even the best relationships.

These feelings usually start in childhood. From birth, children need to know how valuable they are. If the parent tells a child by word or action that anything is more important than one of the strongest bonds in the universe, it will cause permanent damage, that may take years to show up. All the child will understand is that they have come in second place to a new relationship, work, alcohol, drugs, or any other item the parent chooses over them. They will always feel they are not important enough to be a priority, this makes them incapable of appreciating their own magnificence.

It is extremely difficult for the unworthy to accept that they may be valuable to others, that what they say matters, that they are needed and cherished. If we don’t let others appreciate us, we are limiting them. They want to express their gratitude, but we deny it. They want to show us adoration, but we ignore it. We are cheating everyone involved. We might not feel like a work of art, but to someone else we may be the Mona Lisa. So the next time you are fortunate enough to have someone realize your true value, let them.

Every child is unique

My mom told me how much character her grandchildren have. And then she said, “I don’t remember you guys having such unique personalities.”

But I have a feeling we did. The sad part is that sometimes as adults we get so caught up in the stress of life that we don’t appreciate the truly unique individuals growing up before our eyes.

To this day, my brother, sister and I are very distinct. You would never confuse our personalities. From the day each of my children were conceived, I noticed their individuality. My type A daughter was the one who bruised my organs, kicking vigorously in the womb. She arrived on a Saturday when all her people could be there to greet her. The drama continues to this day…

Because my son was so lethargic in the womb, I worried something was terribly wrong with him. He was born healthy, but not happy. He seemed bugged by the whole event. He has a temper and can hold a grudge, but is still not in a hurry to do anything. My youngest came on her due date and has been consistent ever since. She is spirited and opinionated, and I wouldn’t have her any other way. They all came from the same parents, but that is just about all they have in common.

There are little people all around us, waiting to shine. Every one of them has the potential to be magnificent. It’s easy to think that children are too young to have feelings and thoughts. We don’t acknowledge them or take them into consideration. This can break a child’s spirit. They need to be valued. They need to learn to be themselves. So each day that I am allowed to be a mother I hope that I will treasure my children, encourage their creativity, and smile when they show their amazing, never duplicated, uniqueness.

Memories are not always accurate

Do our memories ever put on rose-colored glasses? Maybe an event that seemed unpleasant at the time is recalled with fondness and sentimentality. Even to the point that we would consider doing it again, only to realize it wasn’t actually fun the first time. Our brain loves to play tricks on us. It loves to let emotion cloud over better judgment. When you have children, you experience this regularly. You recall the amazing family trip you just had, telling everyone what fun it was, and plan for the next one. You block out the tantrums, the meltdowns, the incessant asking of “Are we there yet?” You conveniently forget the large amounts of money that you just hemorrhaged, all for the sake of “fun.”

Before our third child was born, we planned a trip to Sea World. As with most families, this practically required the selling of our firstborn. After driving ten hours with two children under five, we decided to go to dinner. We knew this would be risky. Two children, who have been cooped up in a Toyota Camry for ten hours don’t mix well with Olive Garden. But we were determined!

So as expected our kids were whiny, impatient and ill-mannered. We were prepared for that. The surprise came when our children were the best behaved. Every single child (and we’re talking dozens) in the restaurant was frazzled, exhausted, over-stimulated and miserably unhappy. All this after their parents had spent thousands of dollars on a dream vacation. At the time I am sure most of those parents were thinking, like us, “Whose idea was this?” Then we got home, back to reality and those memories were pushed to the dark recesses of our mind, and the pinkish, flowery memories emerged.

It is much like childbirth. If all you could remember was the pain, all maternal desires would cease instantly. Instead, our brain pulls a rabbit out of the hat and we seem to block out the nine months of misery and hours of agony. Our brain replaces the difficulties with warm, affectionate memories of holding our little creations for the first time.

The brain is a slightly deceitful genius, so the next time you reflect with fondness on a past event, be careful before you repeat the process, because our memories are not always accurate.

Don’t let them meet the extended

It was not intentional, but boy did it work in my favor. It just so happened that my soon-to-be husband was never able to meet the extended family, before he vowed to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. Looking back, this may be one of my husband’s biggest regrets, but was one of my wisest moves.

If you have a perfect, functioning family, you should skip this part. For the rest of us, if you ever plan on getting married, you might want to learn this valuable lesson. Don’t let them meet the extended family until after the deal is done, and make sure the ink has dried. You may even want to wait until after you have your first child …

It all comes down to the gene pool. You have met someone so special that you want to spend the rest of your life with them, you want to reproduce, have little versions of yourselves running around, live happily ever after. Then the day comes to meet the distant relatives. You want their approval and their acceptance, but instead your world is shattered. Somehow it is all quite different from what you had imagined.

They are loud and rude, as opposed to reserved and dignified. They are intoxicated and obnoxious, as opposed to sober and agreeable. You may wonder if this is the wrong family: how could your perfect someone come from such imperfection? This can raise a series of troubling questions. Do I really want to be related to these people? What will our children be like? Doubt after doubt will fill their mind, until they run off, never to be seen again. It will all be traced back to the day they met the extended family.

Most men who have married into our family have done so without fully understanding what they were getting into. I look at it not as deceit, but as the decent thing to do. You will have plenty to fight about once you’re married. Enjoy your courtship, your wedding day, your first year as newlyweds. When they’re intoxicated on your love and cannot remember life before you, then the time is right. But until that day, don’t let them meet the extended.

Your mother wants to call you every day

A mother’s love surpasses time. If you are eighty and your mother is a hundred, she will still worry about you, she will still give you advice, and if she is able to pick up the phone, she will still call you. I actually think it’s only mothers with an extreme amount of self control who don’t call their children every day. Even the ones who hold themselves back still have the desire.

Every mom has experienced letting go. Maybe it’s the first day of kindergarten, the first bus ride, the first field trip, the first date, your child moving out, getting married. Every inch your child grows feels like a foot of letting go. You want them to be independent, successful adults. Yet you secretly hope that they will still need you.

I talk to my mom almost every day, sometimes more than once. Usually the conversations are uneventful. She’s just checking in, touching base. She wants to be sure we are all right. If she has good news, she shares it with us. When she has a bad day, we can brighten it. I take it as a compliment.

Growing up does not stop a mother’s affection. It may make her appreciate you more. If she has done her job right, you will be someone she wants to have a relationship with. She will yearn to talk to you, to hear your perspective, to find out your thoughts and feelings. She has invested much in you and this is her dividend: to have a relationship with someone she has unconditional love for. I know without a doubt that when my children fly away, I will want to follow. I am sure they’ll pay me back by moving 3,000 miles away. I will miss them terribly and I will call them every day.

Divorce damages

I recently tried to explain, to my youngest daughter, what getting a divorce meant. I said, “It’s when a mom and dad can’t get along and they decide not to be married anymore, so they don’t live together.” I thought it was a simple explanation for a five-year-old, so I was caught off guard when her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she started sobbing. She then said, “Are you and dad going to get divorced?” I tried to reassure her that we hoped never to get divorced, and she soon calmed down.

This brief, innocent conversation made me realize something I had kept buried for many years: divorce damages! I remember the day my mom told us she was getting divorced from my father. She did all the right things: she sat us down and talked to us about it, telling us she loved us and that it was not our fault. Lastly, she said, “It’s going to be really hard for the next few years.”

I appreciate her telling us this, but for some reason it did not prepare me for the future. “It’s going to be really hard” was actually an understatement. I was twelve at the time, in sixth grade. I looked forward to school as an escape. My little sister, on the other hand, was five, and just starting kindergarten. She would cry every morning when my mom dropped her off at school. The tears lasted all day long, for most of the school year. Some days I would have to go to her classroom to try and comfort her, but to no avail. She was damaged. Seeing my own five-year-old sobbing brought back the sadness I had seen in my little sister’s eyes. A sadness that we will both carry for the rest of our lives.

I once read a quote that struck me: “As a child I grew up without any visible scars. But inside I battled monsters of rage, depression and insecurity with out knowing why … my parents’ divorce took away from me every child’s birthright—the feeling of being secure and protected.” It was if I had written that statement. A few days later, I was talking to my husband, who is also from a broken family. When I mentioned this quote, he said, “That is exactly how I feel.” We have both been robbed of our birthright; we are both children of divorce. Our scars are invisible, and our wounds are internal. They will never heal, and we will carry them for the rest of our lives, because divorce damages.

Are you a child of divorce? How has it impacted your life?

Mirror reflection

This is a hard one for parents to accept, myself included: Your child or children are a perfect reflection of YOU. I like to think of my youngest daughter as a reflection of her older siblings, and to some extent this is true. When a three-year-old knows vocabulary most adults don’t use and greets you with, “What’s up?” you know she’s learning it from somewhere. But this behavior is not what I am talking about.

The part I’m talking about is something deeper—not actions, but feelings. What is the mood of your household? Being extremely smart and sensitive, kids seem to pick up on body language that most adults block out. They are little radios, transmitting the feelings of your family for the public to see and hear. You’re in a bad mood, they’re grouchy. You’re uptight in the store; they manage to break something. You fight with your mate; they fight with their siblings.

I fully understand that each child has a genetic make-up that makes them who they are, and that some are wound tighter than others. But I have noticed that my attitude has the biggest impact on the mood of our family. My oldest daughter is our high-strung child, but how much of that was caused by our neurotic behavior as first-time parents? We were stressed, so she would cry … she would cry, and we would get more stressed. Stress was the common feeling in our family.

Children are wiser than we give them credit for: they mimic our emotions. When mine are being exceptionally out of control and driving me insane, I wonder if it is them, or me. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s me. My feelings are contributing to their actions. If I take a break, regroup or get out of the house, my outlook changes, and so does theirs. They become enjoyable children again. So I don’t need to wake up and look in the mirror to figure out my mood. All I need is to look at my children—they are my mirror reflection.

It’s okay to feel sad

Some days I wake up sad and go to bed sad. It usually starts with something simple that spirals into deep, dark, overwhelming sorrow. This is not the norm for me. I’m not talking about depression or lifelong sadness. I am talking about weepy, emotionally fragile, cry in my coffee, stay in my pajamas all day and feel sorry for myself sadness. Some people would prefer you never to be sad. I am one of those. I HATE to see those I love sad. My husband battled with a heavy heart a few years ago, and it drove me crazy that I could not make him feel better. I took it personally. Sometimes, though, sadness is the only way to feel happiness. If we are truly sad and keep burying those feelings deeper and deeper, we will eventually lose track of them. Yet they will still exist, just waiting to be accidentally discovered at the most inopportune time.

I have found this to be especially true with my children. There are days when one of them will seem out of sorts. They are weepy, sullen and sad. It’s easy to tell them to “get over it,” but that only prolongs the problem. Even though it breaks my heart, I let them be unhappy. We talk about it and, yes, we usually have a good cry. And after a good night’s sleep, they manage to find their joyful spirit again.

So I have realized that, on the days when I am at my lowest, I must embrace my sadness instead of ignoring it. It’s amazing how our cells seem to remember what we try to forget. A smell, a song, a sound or a memory will bring the waves of anguish flooding in. So instead of running up the shoreline, I jump in and get wet. I feel worse for the time being, but once the sadness passes I feel refreshingly lighter.

It’s okay to have a gloomy day of sorrow. So when they come, don’t panic, and warn those around you that you are having a well-deserved “sad day.” Take some time for yourself and face whatever you’re feeling head-on. Cry, wail and weep. Then get a good night’s sleep, and hopefully by the morning you’ll find your joy again.

Two wrongs never make a right

If my coffee is too sweet, I never add more sugar to fix the problem. It’s the same with our lives. Sometimes we get into difficult situations. We may have made a wrong turn and have lost our direction. Survival books will tell you that the best thing to do in these situations is to stay calm, stop and regain your composure. Usually we do the opposite: we panic and keep moving, ending up far off course.

This happened to my mom when she was in an unhappy marriage. Because she never stopped to regain her composure, she ended up far off her original path. Instead of leaving my dad and finding herself, she made her life much more complicated by finding another man. She says this was her escape route. This new man was the complete opposite of my father. He was young and immature and brought much heartache into our lives.

My mom still lives with this regret and apologizes for the pain this relationship caused her children. Looking back, she knows it was the wrong choice. From her experience, I have realized many valuable lessons. One of the most profound is that two wrongs never make a right. If you have made a bad choice, you can find your way out. The trick is to STOP. Don’t make anymore decisions, evaluate your situation and stay calm. Find a trusted, all-knowing friend, and brainstorm. Throw every possible solution into the air. Write them down. There is no right answer at this stage—just options. Think about them all, weighing the pros and cons. Who will get hurt? What will cause the least damage? Can it be fixed? Come up with plans A, B and C. Then make a decision. Hopefully it will be the right one.

You may know instantly that plan A was the incorrect choice, but don’t give up hope. Move onto plan B, and then all the way through Plan X if needed. If you have made a wrong decision, there is a 50% chance the next one will be right. And always remember, no matter how you add, subtract or multiply, two wrongs will never make a right.


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Your parents did have sex

This idea might make you squeamish. You have two graying, slightly plump people, whose passion seems to have faded and whose biggest concern is the lost remote control. You know them well: they’re your parents. How could these same people ever have been young, vibrant and amorous? It’s a truth no child wants to come face to face with.

It is much easier to believe that your parents only had relations the few times it took to create you and your siblings. Then you reach adulthood. You are young, vibrant and amorous and you wonder: is this how my parents felt? The hormones rage, and you are endowed with passion. You know, in an untapped part of your brain, that at one time your parents were the same way, but this fact you would rather deny.

This is hard to accept when your parents are still happily married after four or five decades. It’s even harder when they are divorced. There is usually an overabundance of animosity. The hatred runs deep. They are now passionately repulsed. But despite this repulsion, thankfully, they still managed to create you.

Sometime before you were born, two people were enamored of each other, enough to take the ultimate plunge into intimacy. They may try to deny this, but don’t be fooled—you are living proof. So the next time you’re with your parents, or your grandparents for that matter, thank them. Their passion is what brought you into this world. It may have been fleeting, it may be long gone, but it did exist. You may never like the idea, but it’s a fact that your parents did have sex.

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Don’t mess with mama!

There is no shortage of pregnant cats in North Carolina. And somehow they all seem to end up at our house. I suspect word travels fast in the cat world, or that there is a sign written in meows alerting all gestating females that we are the perfect halfway house. Truthfully, I don’t have the heart to turn them away. Mainly because I know how hard it is to be a mother, and I respect their tenacity. Once the kittens are born, the moms will do whatever it takes to protect them. If the mom spots danger, she somehow alerts the kittens, who scramble for safety. As the kittens look on, she will hold her ground and fight with all her might the predator at hand.

With most animals, one thing holds true: you don’t want to mess with mama! I took on many responsibilities when I decided to become a parent. But my most natural instinct is to keep my children safe from predators. They need to grow and explore the world, but if I sense danger the claws will come out. It can be exhausting work, but their lives are at stake.

Children are vulnerable and impressionable. They crave role models. When a family unit is intact, these may be the child’s parents or close relatives. The child will emulate these people. When the family is broken, the child will usually look elsewhere for guidance. They will search for what it is lacking. Because of inexperience, they may choose the wrong person, and this can cause lifelong damage.

When my parents divorced, each of us children looked for what was suddenly missing in our lives. I settled on two of my aunts, who are amazingly strong, capable women. They shaped the woman I would become. My brother settled on my mom’s second husband. He introduced my brother (who was thirteen at the time) to smoking, drugs and alcohol. This new role model shaped the man my brother would become.

The attributes of innocence and trust can be quickly stolen from a child. Make sure that every person you allow into your child’s life is someone you would want them to become! I implore you as a parent: keep your children safe! Fight with every ounce of your being to protect them. Take on any battle necessary, because your children need to know that you should never mess with mama!

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They may be my purpose

I have seen many people hit a certain age and become dissatisfied with their lives. They feel that they have no purpose, no meaning, no direction. Some only feel satisfied when they’re working. That gives them a mission. Others feel as if something is missing, but like a dog chasing it's tail, they never quite reach it. I too have experienced these feelings. The uncertainty, the discontentment, the restlessness. The search for your purpose. Sadly most never find it. They continue searching, with frustrating, life-ruining results.

When all three of my children started school I felt the waves of aimlessness wash over me. What now? What direction should I go? Truthfully, I had no idea. I decided to start with a small purpose. My aim was to try to make one person smile, each and every day. It was a simple goal, but it worked. It helped me to not think so much about myself and try to figure out how to make others happy. It felt good to have a small purpose.

Parents can easily lose their direction, they can lose their value. Your to-do list is long, and can take over eighteen years to finish. Even when the time is up, you still don’t know if you did a good job. You won’t know if you’re successful until years later. There is no instant gratification, no immediate reward, no paycheck at the end of the week, nothing to gauge your worth. But a good mom or dad is the most valuable commodity on the planet. Parenting is a grandiose purpose!

No matter how old my children are, no matter how far away they fly, I will always be their mother. That is the most important thing I can give them. Someday my life will change but today my goal is to have a successful marriage, to appreciate the family I do have and to be the best mother I can possibly be. That is no small purpose.

Did you have good parents or bad? I would love to hear!

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Embrace the inner dork

Lurking in each of us is a dork. You know—the goofy one who dances poorly in the living room when no one is watching. The one who belts out “Phantom of the Opera” in the shower when no one is listening. The one who trips on their own two feet and then pretends they did it on purpose. For some of us, the dork is unruly and regularly takes possession of our body. For others, the dork lurks in the shadows because he thinks you’re too cool to hang with him.

Since no decent dictionary even defines the word ‘dork,’ I had to go to the urban dictionary. This was my favorite definition: “Someone who has odd interests, and is silly at times.” A dork is also someone who can be themselves and not care what anyone thinks. When I was growing up, being a dork was a bad thing, and believe me, I know, because I was a dork. Other words I may have been called were nerd, geek, loser, lame, wannabe, goober and many more I don’t care to share.

What I didn’t know as a child is that I should have embraced my “gooberness.” The most lovable dorks, the irresistible nerds, are the ones that don’t fight being a geek. These are the ones I adore. They are the quirky, the goofy, who are not embarrassed to embarrass themselves, and too show who they really are. I always hated my dorkiness. By the age of sixteen, I detested my handmade clothes. I despised my pale skin, freckles, bushy hair, my name, which no one could pronounce, let alone spell.

If I could do it again, instead of hiding from the dork I would embrace it. I would allow the silliness, the odd interests, the never-going-to-fit-in-the-mold quality to shine. I would not force it to lurk in the shadows.

So if you’re a closet dork, I urge you to come out! Be odd, be goofy, be silly. Dance with no rhythm, sing with no tune, trip and fall with grace. Love the dork within. Embrace the goober you were meant to be!

Are you an in-the-closet-dork? Or are you proud to be odd? I would love to hear!

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Enjoy the small gifts

It seems that when we are at our lowest point in life, we are given a small gift. It is a tiny gift that makes us smile despite our despair. If you’ve never experienced this, it doesn’t mean it did not happen; just that you didn’t notice it.

Every time I see a rainbow I think of my dad. I saw a rainbow the week of his funeral. I was exhausted and overwhelmed with grief. My daughter and I were driving back to my dad’s house and in the green valley below was a flawless rainbow. The kind with a pot of gold at the bottom. Despite my misery, I had to smile. I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it.

That same week, I decided to visit one of my dad’s favorite spots. It was a swinging bridge in the village of Arroyo Grande. He loved taking his children and grandchildren there. I planned on going and wallowing in my sorrow. Fortunately, I was not allowed to do this. Instead, an extremely amorous rooster jumped up on the bench with me and started doing a mating dance. His desperation brought a smile to my face. It was a tiny, happy gift.

The breathtaking sunset, the look your pet gives you when you get home, the smell of honeysuckle in the warm air, someone telling you they love you, all tiny, happy gifts. Even when you are content, it gives you peace when you notice the abundance around you. Life is hectic and rushed and daily small gifts go unobserved. As I frantically tried to get my children ready for school, I pulled out a paper from my youngest child’s backpack. It was her standing under a rainbow picking flowers. Since she is just learning to spell she had written: "I like to pig faurs." I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it. No matter how disappointing life feels, it is full of gifts. But some are so tiny that you need 20/20 vision to see them.

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Get Out of Jail Free card

My dad’s philosophy was that every child should have a Get Out of Jail Free card. That meant that he would bail each of his children out of jail for free, one time. He was not encouraging jail time, but seemed to understand that if we made the huge mistake of getting arrested, we would need his help. The good part is that he was able to use this for each of his children.

My brother was the first to use his card. Because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong friends, doing the wrong thing, he managed to end up in the county penitentiary. In his defense, he still claims that the drug paraphernalia the police found in his pocket was not actually his. So in the middle of the night my brother used his one and only phone call, to let my dad know that he would be cashing in his Get Out of Jail Free card.

My sister was the second. Being a nurse and never having a run-in with the law, my dad realized she might never need to cash in her card, so when the time came for her to buy her first home he gave her the down payment. He called it her Get Out of Jail Free card.

I was the third and last one to use my card. I cashed mine in for an all-expenses-paid, absolutely unforgettable trip to Disneyland with my dad. He was generous beyond compare, and even though we had to suffer through “It’s a Small World (After All),” it was much better than a night in the slammer.

So what lessons did I learn from my dad’s funny generosity? That most parents would never even consider the idea that their angels could end up in jail, but my dad did. When and if it did happen, we knew that we had someone to call. It also taught me, once again, that my dad loved us all, unconditionally. He knew we would make mistakes, and he was realistic in his expectations. We were not chastised for our bad decisions, but were given a second chance. And we were also rewarded for our good decisions.

As a parent, I hope that if I get a phone call at 3 a.m. from the local sheriff, I will calmly tell my child they can cash in their one Get Out of Jail Free card, and if I never get that phone call I will find an amazing way to let them cash it in anyway.

You get what you need

We were very nervous to have a second child. Our first child was sweet, obedient and a girl. Not a bad combination for our first try. We were confident, we were amazing parents, we had it all figured out. The midwife who was delivering our second child must have seen the arrogance on our faces, because she used five words that still ring true: “You get what you need.”

We knew within twenty-four hours of our son’s birth that we had gotten what we needed. He had a temper, he was contrary, he was a boy.

The midwife’s words have been fulfilled many times since they were uttered. As if our son wasn’t enough, two years later, the birth of our third child left us even more bewildered. Our arrogance has turned into a form of mortification. Each child has managed to embarrass us more than the next. They keep us humble, which must have been exactly what we needed.

These words bring me comfort. When I am worried about some future event, I resolve that I’ll get what I need. It may not be what I want, but it will be what I need. I don’t view every bad situation as a disaster. I think: What do I need? What am I supposed to learn from this? When I get frustrated with others who seem to face no consequences for their decisions, I tell myself, they’ll get what they need. Then I sit back and wait. Sure enough, the prophecy is always fulfilled. The user gets used. The smug get humbled. The unreliable are jilted, and the untrustworthy are misled. This principle runs on autopilot. The best thing to do once it’s in motion is enjoy the ride. Just remember, you’re the one who chose the course, so don‘t complain when it get‘s bumpy. Have fun and don’t worry, because you‘ll always get what you need.

My children will be just as dysfunctional

So far, I have never met someone who has made a conscious decision to procreate, and invest twenty years of their life, just for the fun of damaging their children beyond repair. Yet that is usually what happens. Even families that seem to be the cream of the crop, the most normal of all, will still have dysfunctional children. No matter how good we are as parents, there will always be issues, years of counseling, baggage and resentment.

As parents, you can’t win. You work … they hate you because you didn’t spend enough time with them. You don’t work … your kids hate being poor. Not enough of this, too much of that. So you may be asking, are children really worth it? Of course they are, because even dysfunctional children can still be a blessing to their parents, and truthfully, when that strong maternal instinct kicks in, there is usually not much you could say that would convince someone that having a cute, adorable, bundle of joy is not worth it.

So what’s the point in trying? You try because deep down you hope that someday your children will realize that you tried to do what was best for them, and they will look at the big picture, and maybe at their grandparents and even great-grandparents, and notice that each of them tried, with all they knew at the time, given their background, to make the best decisions. Perhaps their perspective was wrong, or their thinking was based on inaccurate information, but they still loved you and exerted a great amount of effort to raise you.

One of my mom’s favorite expressions is, “Being a mom is a thankless job.” She usually tells us this soon after we’ve informed her that she has single handedly ruined us forever. She then follows it by the mother’s curse: “I hope that someday your children are just like you.” So the cycle continues indefinitely. Someday I will realize that, no matter how hard I tried not to, I still managed to raise dysfunctional children.

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Sometimes they do know best

Most parents have years of experience that can outweigh our inexperience. Usually they have our best interest at heart. This can be hard to accept, no matter how old we are. When your parent gives you advice, you might want to stop and listen. You may be able to use only 1% of that advice, but that 1% may be very valuable.

A few months ago, my seven-year-old came to me with scissors in his hand and asked if he could cut his hair. Of course I told him “no”, and took the scissors away. He immediately went downstairs, found another pair of scissors, and proceeded to cut his hair anyway, removing sizeable chunks in multiple spots. If it hadn’t looked so ridiculously funny, he would have gotten into much more trouble, but we decided his punishment would be at least one day in school before we fixed it. When I asked him why he’d done it, he said, “I just wanted to see what it felt like to cut my hair.”

This reminded me of a few decisions I made as a child, when I thought I knew better than my mom. I shared these with my children, hoping that they would learn from my experience. The one that stood out the most was my cactus petting. After being told never to touch a small wooly cactus, I decided not only to touch it but fondle it. What did my mom know? It looked soft enough. To my surprise, it was extremely soft. I petted it, and petted it, all the while thinking my mom was a fool. My mother and I soon realized that despite its soft coat, it had left thousands of thorns in my hand, which my mom was not very happy to tediously remove.

Our parents do know us the best and have usually experienced something similar to what we are going through. They want to help, they want to give advice, they want to keep us safe. So listen, because sometimes they do know best.

You need them

Why was my first phone call after my dad died to my mom? Because I needed her. I needed her strength in order to break the news to my sister. No matter how old we are, we still need our parents. We know that even if our mates or significant others don’t believe in us, our mom and dad will. They have the ability to support us the way no other human can.

My dad would tell me that he only heard from my brother in rough times. If things were going smoothly in my brother’s life, my dad wasn’t needed, and my brother could depend on himself. Sometimes, though, we reach the point emotionally when we don’t have the strength to take care of ourselves. Maybe it’s a tragic event, a bad week or some unexpected news. We manage to hold it together emotionally for our children, our mate, our friends. Then our mom or dad walks into the room and we break down like a little baby.

No matter how badly your parents treat you, no matter how old you are, you need them. I am a married woman with an amazing husband and three children of my own, but I will tell you that without a doubt the hardest part of losing my dad was that I still needed him. When I was a teenager, it may have been for superficial things: to borrow his car, to help me fix mine, gas, food, money—all those things you need as an adolescent.

But as I grew older, I needed his support, his understanding, his strength. All those times when your parent is the only one who will do. So the next time you feel like an independent and capable grown-up, take the time to appreciate your parents when you don’t need them, because the day may come when you do.

When did you need your parent's the most? Please feel free to comment.

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