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.

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.

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.


Please SHARE me, DIGG me, LIKE me or FOLLOW me. I will love you forever!

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!

Please SHARE, DIGG, FOLLOW or LIKE me!

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!

Please SHARE me, FOLLOW me, LIKE me or DIGG me.

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.

Please, oh please FOLLOW, SHARE, DIGG or LIKE me.

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.

Please SHARE me, FOLLOW me, LIKE me or DIGG me.

I drove my parents crazy

I feel deceitful. I have managed to trick the universal forces that my mother set in motion with the infamous words, “I hope your children are just like you!” I am blessed, and a little sneaky, to have basically escaped this curse. Most of the time I have three manageable, kindhearted, easygoing children.

And then there are the other days. Days that make me wonder what I did to deserve this. Those are the days when my childhood flashes before me and it all becomes clear. I remember the days of driving my own parents crazy. There are certain personality traits that make a child loveable, that draw adults to them. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have any of them. I was at the opposite end of the spectrum. I didn’t have looks, so I learned to rely on my personality, and boy, did I have a lot to offer! I was extremely picky, exceptionally whiny, painfully shy and gravely serious.

I know I was whiny, because I actually remember my mom telling me, over and over again, to “STOP WHINING!” I hated everything my mom made, except sweets. I was sure that all adults would kidnap me, and prevented this from happening by staying in the house at all times. My parents would tell me “It’s okay if someone takes you, because they will bring you back.” I don’t remember laughing much, and took myself and others very seriously. I was afraid of my own shadow, and was without an ounce of hand-eye coordination. To top it off, I thought I was an adult trapped in a child’s body. I couldn’t understand why my mom would make me leave the room for adult conversation. My parents nicknamed me “Memorex,” because not only did I love listening to adult conversation, I would repeat it word for word at the most inopportune times.

I imagine my parents developed qualities of patience, endurance, longsuffering and mildness every day of my childhood. So on those days when I am ready for a nervous breakdown, I have to laugh, think of myself as a little girl and thank the stars that my children are not even close to the child that I was. Hallelujah!


What did you do as a child that would have drove your parents crazy?

Please SHARE, FOLLOW or LIKE me. I'm very insecure!

Patience!

I am the queen of impatience! I would like to live in the faraway land of instant results, have-it-now, don’t-make-me-wait . . . but so far I haven’t found it. To my dismay, what I have discovered is that eighty percent of life involves the one quality I am lacking: patience—the ability to not act hastily and persevere with joyfulness. The other twenty percent of life involves actually doing: seizing the opportunity and acting.

The positive side is that I am consistent: consistently impatient with everything in my life. I was impatient to grow up, to get married, to buy a house, to have children. I am impatient with people, money, time, my kids, my husband, my family. So what do I gain from my impatience, besides gray hair? Truthfully, nothing! There is not one situation that my impatience has made better.

Here are some words that go hand in hand with patience: enduring without complaint (not a chance), tolerant (nope), tranquil (no way). So what’s the opposite of patience? Irritable (for sure), resentful (okay, but I’m trying to show forgiveness), restless (ninety-nine percent of the time). Is this a HUGE flaw for me? Yes, and the sooner I acquire the skill of patience, the sooner I can move on to another.

So what good things come to those who wait? Peace of mind, better relationships, lasting friendships, a calm heart, spiritual and emotional health, and respect. These are all things I desire. Impatience is waiting for something to happen while life passes you by. It robs you of joy and contentment. Patience is about enduring without complaint, working hard and savoring every moment along the way. So even though I wear the “impatient” crown well, I would much rather be the queen of : what’s the rush, take your time, it’s worth the wait!