Dear Children,
I am not your best friend. My intent is not to have you like ME, but rather to ensure that the rest of the world likes YOU. My job is not to shower you with gifts and be your personal entertainer....I am not your maid, butler or chauffeur (although it appears that way a significant portion of the time).
My job is dirty.
When they say 'this hurts me more than it hurts you', I think the 'theys' who coined that phrase were moms like me.
I can't catch you every time you fall. You need to learn how to fall on your own. And more importantly how to get up by yourself when you do so. Trust me, failure is part and parcel of life and how you manage it, is what separates the wheat from the chaff. Yes, I know 'Johnny's' mom swoops in and "fixes" things with the teacher, coach, and boss...but here is the scoop: they are not helping Johnny. You, my dear child get to practice navigating your own speed bumps. You get to have the uncomfortable conversations. You get to be responsible for your actions. You get to do the leg work. You get to own your mistakes. Because when you do, you also earn the bragging rights for your accomplishments.
My job is not easy. When you fall I want nothing more than to make it all better for you. I would love to shield you from every broken heart and painful moment....but that is an impossibility, so what I can do...what I must do, is give you tools to navigate solo.
When you fall I am close by. I am here to aid in problem solving and to coach and cheer you on. My job is to ensure you will be successful at getting back up when I am not an arms lengths away to extend a helping hand.
Those "A's" you received on your report card, you earned. I did not do your homework for you, I did not talk to the teacher/principal, I did not remind you to do homework or study. You did it all on your own. Those "A's" are yours. Well done. And NO, you don't get $ or a gift for earning them, you get pride.
That team you want to play on...you found out when registration was. You put in the work at practice. You practiced in the driveway/yard/basement and got better. I didn't get you a sport specific tutor. I didn't speak to the coaches. You earned your spot on the team because it was important to you. And from the sidelines, where I watch you, I too have pride...pride in YOU.
My sweet, sweet kiddos, I know it would seem I am not helping....oh but I am. One day, perhaps in the distant future, when the world is in utter like with you, you will see that all the times you didn't like me, I was loving you in the biggest way.
Love, Mom.
