Why I Am both the Worst and the Best Mother in the World
Last night The Child went to play at a friend's house. Right before she was to be home she called and asked if said friend could come home with her and spend the night.
There was no way this was going to happen. First of all, she's not allowed to have friends over when I'm not here. (There are a couple of exceptions to this, but the point is moo). Second, the friend in question is a) significantly younger, 2) exceedingly strong willed and 3) a bit naughty. The two of them fight like siblings from time to time and Friend has more than once gotten The Child in trouble because she wouldn't listen when The Child told her they couldn't/shouldn't do something.
The Child begged. "Pul-eeeze, Mom. I swear we'll be fine. It'll be like I'm babysitting her".
"No. You can't babysit friends who don't listen to you".
Friend, yelling into the phone, "I promise promise promise we'll behave. And I'll love you for ever and ever and ever".
No.
No.
No.
In her defense, Friend's mom is doing an internship and the poor kid has to get up at 5 am and be in childcare all day. But that's not really my problem. There have been a couple times this summer when she has spent the night and stayed here all the next day. But I was home. Now I'm not. End of story.
The begging and deal making and promises continued until, yes I did, I told her to get home and hung up on her.
And she called back. (Seriously, I can't even come up with a metaphor for the tenacity of my kid when she's like this. A dog with a bone is more compliant).
Another "No, get home". Sheesh.
She came home in a door slamming fury. Whatever. Like that sort of behavior would get me to change my intractable mind. She would occasionally come into the kitchen to get something, mostly, I think, a pretext for displaying to me how thoroughly disgusted she was with me and how much she hated me. Her very aura screamed "worst mother in the world".
She mellowed some by dinner time. (Who wouldn't over a good juicy burger in an onion bun and a delicious stone fruit salad)? Then, a little more meekly, she asked why Friend couldn't come over when I have allowed B or J to be there.
"Because B and J are older and I trust them".
"But you can trust Friend".
Well, no. I can't. Which I explained. And then she started to cry. And that's when it hit me. (I'm slow on the uptake but I manage to get there eventually). The kid was bored out of her frakking mind. And a little lonely.
"You're getting bored being home alone, aren't you?"
She cried some more and nodded her head, big tears rolling down her cheeks. (It takes a lot for her to muster tears, btw. Always has). "I tried to play board games with the puppies today but it didn't work," she wailed. Oh, that pesky no-opposable-thumbs thing.
So I apologized to her for the timing of this job. I told her that I was sorry there wasn't more notice because then I might have been able to make some arrangements that would have left her a bit more occupied. Then I mentioned that Judy had said I could bring her in to the office.
She brightened immediately. "Tomorrow!" she said.
Between you and me, I think she's going to be even more bored there than she would be at home. No TV. No puppies. It's not like, as I explained in great detail, I'll be able to play with her. "But I'll be with you," she said. "I'm just tired of being by myself".
I must be a working mom now. I feel guilty.
It's not bone crushing guilt. I know this is temporary. And I know that in the main The Child is not being harmed by having to hang out by herself. I also know that in a couple of years having the house to herself of a summer's day will be a luxury beyond telling. But we're not there yet. And let's face it, this whole "working mom" thing, which sounds so good on paper, is as much a challenge and a change for her as it is for me. I've always been around. Now, all of a sudden, I'm not. Yeah, that Joni Mitchell "you don't know what you've got till it's gone" lyric is embedding itself on my brain. Just as I'm having to learn how to manage work and home and writing, she's having to adjust to the reality that while a working mom may mean more money and eventually the possession of the Holy Grail (a cell phone), having a working mom also means that mom isn't necessarily going to be available all the time in the ways she's used to. Welcome to the real world, sweetie.
The Child was ever so organized last night: taking a shower and laying out clothes and packing things for the office. Judy has at least one project for her to do today and I can think of a few things as well. Child labor, baby. Work it. But the point is that she is excited and a little relieved to have a break. And I expect, after one day of being slightly bored at the office she'll be more than happy to be bored at home for a few days.
I told The Spouse last night that these 3 weeks are like boot camp. It's a big adjustment and I'm just exhausted come dinner time. I'm grateful for the experience, grateful that this came when it did and that I can learn some of this balancing stuff in a temporary situation. I trust that it will serve us all well when all those clients start flooding in when I start my business. (They're going to flood in, right?) Balancing work and home, that's one piece. Balancing work and home and family, yet another.
Hi. This is me. Juggling. On a wire. Thank heaven for the net.
There was no way this was going to happen. First of all, she's not allowed to have friends over when I'm not here. (There are a couple of exceptions to this, but the point is moo). Second, the friend in question is a) significantly younger, 2) exceedingly strong willed and 3) a bit naughty. The two of them fight like siblings from time to time and Friend has more than once gotten The Child in trouble because she wouldn't listen when The Child told her they couldn't/shouldn't do something.
The Child begged. "Pul-eeeze, Mom. I swear we'll be fine. It'll be like I'm babysitting her".
"No. You can't babysit friends who don't listen to you".
Friend, yelling into the phone, "I promise promise promise we'll behave. And I'll love you for ever and ever and ever".
No.
No.
No.
In her defense, Friend's mom is doing an internship and the poor kid has to get up at 5 am and be in childcare all day. But that's not really my problem. There have been a couple times this summer when she has spent the night and stayed here all the next day. But I was home. Now I'm not. End of story.
The begging and deal making and promises continued until, yes I did, I told her to get home and hung up on her.
And she called back. (Seriously, I can't even come up with a metaphor for the tenacity of my kid when she's like this. A dog with a bone is more compliant).
Another "No, get home". Sheesh.
She came home in a door slamming fury. Whatever. Like that sort of behavior would get me to change my intractable mind. She would occasionally come into the kitchen to get something, mostly, I think, a pretext for displaying to me how thoroughly disgusted she was with me and how much she hated me. Her very aura screamed "worst mother in the world".
She mellowed some by dinner time. (Who wouldn't over a good juicy burger in an onion bun and a delicious stone fruit salad)? Then, a little more meekly, she asked why Friend couldn't come over when I have allowed B or J to be there.
"Because B and J are older and I trust them".
"But you can trust Friend".
Well, no. I can't. Which I explained. And then she started to cry. And that's when it hit me. (I'm slow on the uptake but I manage to get there eventually). The kid was bored out of her frakking mind. And a little lonely.
"You're getting bored being home alone, aren't you?"
She cried some more and nodded her head, big tears rolling down her cheeks. (It takes a lot for her to muster tears, btw. Always has). "I tried to play board games with the puppies today but it didn't work," she wailed. Oh, that pesky no-opposable-thumbs thing.
So I apologized to her for the timing of this job. I told her that I was sorry there wasn't more notice because then I might have been able to make some arrangements that would have left her a bit more occupied. Then I mentioned that Judy had said I could bring her in to the office.
She brightened immediately. "Tomorrow!" she said.
Between you and me, I think she's going to be even more bored there than she would be at home. No TV. No puppies. It's not like, as I explained in great detail, I'll be able to play with her. "But I'll be with you," she said. "I'm just tired of being by myself".
I must be a working mom now. I feel guilty.
It's not bone crushing guilt. I know this is temporary. And I know that in the main The Child is not being harmed by having to hang out by herself. I also know that in a couple of years having the house to herself of a summer's day will be a luxury beyond telling. But we're not there yet. And let's face it, this whole "working mom" thing, which sounds so good on paper, is as much a challenge and a change for her as it is for me. I've always been around. Now, all of a sudden, I'm not. Yeah, that Joni Mitchell "you don't know what you've got till it's gone" lyric is embedding itself on my brain. Just as I'm having to learn how to manage work and home and writing, she's having to adjust to the reality that while a working mom may mean more money and eventually the possession of the Holy Grail (a cell phone), having a working mom also means that mom isn't necessarily going to be available all the time in the ways she's used to. Welcome to the real world, sweetie.
The Child was ever so organized last night: taking a shower and laying out clothes and packing things for the office. Judy has at least one project for her to do today and I can think of a few things as well. Child labor, baby. Work it. But the point is that she is excited and a little relieved to have a break. And I expect, after one day of being slightly bored at the office she'll be more than happy to be bored at home for a few days.
I told The Spouse last night that these 3 weeks are like boot camp. It's a big adjustment and I'm just exhausted come dinner time. I'm grateful for the experience, grateful that this came when it did and that I can learn some of this balancing stuff in a temporary situation. I trust that it will serve us all well when all those clients start flooding in when I start my business. (They're going to flood in, right?) Balancing work and home, that's one piece. Balancing work and home and family, yet another.
Hi. This is me. Juggling. On a wire. Thank heaven for the net.
Labels: Little Job, worst mother in the world
cobbled together by Moi at 8:10 PM
19 Comments:
I've told Fern she'd be bored out of her mind at my office. She couldn't go anywhere since she has to be escorted on the elevators (you have to "badge in" to make your floor button work).
good for you. :)
when does school start?
My kids have done both, stay at home while im at work and have gone to the office.
I usually provide a list of chores that i dont expect them to do well and remind them that some day they too will be all grown up and have to take care of things..
ya...so then they watch tv and play and its not as bad...but againt they do have eachother to kill....
I could use some mother's helper pre-work done around the house...would The Child be interested in hanging out with one of her older bf's and earning a bit of extra cash at the same time?
I hope you're workin' the child labor angle today. At a non-profit no less. That really makes me giggle. :)
...and yes, the clients are going to flood in, m'dear.
Are you willing to travel to organize? I can send pix of several areas in need of HUGE organization....also the operative word is always b a l a n c e.
i'm leaning more towards "best." 'cuz I so didn't think about the lonely at home all day thing.
The thing is, kids forget how mad they are so fast.
Three weeks from now, she'll have completely forgotten it as if it happened years ago, but you'll still be replaying it in your mind.
Um .... that would be why you're the best AND the best. I know a lot of moms who would have totally caved during that second phone call.
Just sayin'.
You are a very good mom!
You're amazing.
I would have pulled the,"Because I said so!" card almost immediately.Like JP,the whole home alone and lonesome thing didn't occur to me.
As a former professional latchkey kid myself, I should point out that the authorities have no sense of humor when it comes to shed fires.
Thanks, Anne. Solidarity, baby.
School starts the 4th, Mouse. And yeah, I have the list of Chores to Ignore, too. But yeah, the whole not-having-someone-else-to-kill thing is more challenging.
I'm calling you right now, SCG. And thanks.
Rosie, as a matter of fact, I am thinking of a "have organization, will travel" sorta thing.
Thank you, Dana. Seriously.
Well, 'course you would lean that way, Poodle. 'Cause you're supportive like that.
Funny you should, mention, Iwanski, 'cause I was thinking about how she'd remember all this. It's the way of parents. You'll see one of these days.
Thanks, Red. Caving is not an option. I keep waiting for her to figure that out.
Well, that means a lot coming from the mom who's so good that her handle is "Mom"!
Not so much on the amazing, Sling. Like I said, slow on the uptake. Probably all those Vacations I've been sampling.
Lex, I find the authorities equally unamused by grafitti, breaking of car windows and hanging on the street corner with Willy and the poor boys.
I used to LOVE going to work with my mother. She did not love having me there. HAHA But everyone else did because they could give me the busy work that they didn't want to be bothered with. Kids think that stuff is fun.
Yeah, Mon, it's all allure and superfantasticness until you spend 5 hours organizing and do inventory on countless brochures on the varieties of mental illness. Then the idea of staying home and watching "Fairly Odd Parents" is the epitome of joy.
Balancing work and home, that's one piece. Balancing work and home and family, yet another. Bingo. It's a bitch.
First, Joni? Genius.
Second, I too the son to work on "Bring Your Child to Work Day" when he was in 7th grade, figured he'd be bored to tears. He loved it! My boss made him a certificate afterward, he still has it. Even it's boring, she'll have fun. Work -- big stuff.
Third, we all feel like the worst moms in the world, it's part of the package. My son will be 15 in Nov. and he just this week had a friend stay after a sleepover, while I was at work. For the first time ever. And I work 1.5 miles away, on side streets. He's been asking for years, I don't cave either. Middle daughter still doesn't have her boyfriend over when I'm not home, she just turned 18. That's not mean, you're doing your job.
It's a huge adjustment Lorraine. You do the best you can with what you know at the time. And once you're organizing slackers' lives, you'll have more flexibility. Good thoughts...
You and your kid are wonderful people, but I am SO glad I don't have kids.
We'll be expecting a post on how things went with her at work, you know.
Your post demonstrates that you are indeed an awesome mom. Not only do you refuse to cave in when not caving in is the right thing, but you seek out the underlying feelings. I would have missed that.
My friend Kim had a funny story I am sure you can relate to. Her youngest son left a crumpled up note on her bed that read:
"Dear mom,
You know how you are always telling me that I should discuss my FEELINGS with you?
Well,
I HATE YOU!
How does that feel?"
He was 9 at the time, and the note was written on double lined school paper with crayon. On the bottom was a frowny face with tears!
Cracked us all up!
I am mean like that too. My kids hated me for that, but now they love me for having been like that. I was a tad more malleable with YS, though. Unfortunately, I have always been a working mom. Fortunately, it's a small town, and the places I've worked made it easy to check on the kids frequently, or have them come to the office with me, which they did on many occasions. By the time YS was 10, there was a program at the local gym for kids after school. That's when he started playing racquetball (he got good enough to play in the Junior Nationals in Portland). We found ways to cope, but it is tough, and guilt? Just part of the package. One of the things I really despised The Spouse's ex for was, she paid so little, or no, child support for the two oldest kids, so it forced me to work to make ends meet, meaning my toddler had to go to daycare. She, on the other hand, was married to a very wealthy man, and didn't have to work. But you know what? I got the joy of raising those kids, and I wouldn't trade THAT for all the child support in the world.
Thanks for the encouragement, Cowbell!
Oh, Tater, that story is CLASS.IC!
Thanks, Buck. But you know your on backup duty, right?
Sounds like the right sort of trade-off, Gina. And those kids were lucky to have you raising 'em!
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