The following is written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
The other night my friend texted me an S.O.S.
She needed me to talk her down from the ledge of late-night motherhood;
When you’re ready to throw it all out,
call Witness Protection,
and just start a whole new life.
The preschool gangster she lives with was running her into the ground, and she was fantasizing about booking a hotel alone for the weekend.
She sounded sad and desperate as she told me that the main kick to the gut was having that preschooler also tell her that
“sometimes he thought she was scary.”
*Important to note is that this is maybe my LEAST scary friend.
Her literal JOB is to support children and their wellbeing and safety.
She is the most patient mother I know, and she was turning to me*
Therefore,
the pressure was on.
I assured her that you’re honestly probably not even mothering right if your child never once thinks you are scary.
I told her that no small child in the history of the world has ever looked up at their parent and said,
“You know, you are doing a positively EXCELLENT job of raising me.
Keep up the good work, Cheryl,”
and if they do you should probably have them tested for lead.
I can clearly remember several times when I thought my own parents were mean,
only to look back now and see all the ways that their “meanness” shaped me for the better.
Strong work ethic,
ability to bite back complaints unless it’s about something I am willing to work at to change,
and a whole lot of capability.
None of that would have ever happened if they’d made me happy and comfortable at every turn.
In the 20 years I’ve been a mother I cannot even begin to count all the times that I’ve probably seemed “scary” to one of my girls.
As a matter of fact,
I hope that sometimes I am.
I want them to be able to look at my face and know just how serious I am when I say that I will hunt for them Bounty Hunter style if it means keeping them safe.
I will leap from busses,
I will hide in bushes,
I will BE Liam Neeson.
I will don all the war paint.
What starts off as pinning them down as a toddler in time-out only helps them know that mommy Does. Not. Play. when it comes to helping form them into upstanding citizens;
And if there is ANYTHING the world needs right now it is those.
I see too many kids these days without a compass.
The modern world has said to just let them be free to be who they are,
but who they are in the very beginning is in need of True North.
They need a welcoming lap,
but for that lap to be fenced by a firm set of arms that will hold them close no matter how much they may thrash at times.
Children crave a fence.
We mom’s never really get good Yelp reviews until our kids become adults, anyway, and sometimes not even then.
I have been called mean and scary for making them brush their teeth, change their underwear, and eat vegetable fiber.
I wouldn’t let them touch dog poop? Mean.
I told them not to lick the railing of the giraffe enclosure? Beast.
I made them wear close-toed shoes?
I am a rot-toothed monster.
Today my closest mom friends and I gathered, as we often do, for a brunch together.
8 moms and our 18 kids.
I had to smile at the varying expressions that entered that front door.
Relieved, and exhausted.
Some happy,
some flat-out DONE.
Like we all had just made it to base.
I smiled because it was a collective picture of all of us, really.
We’re all just trying our best to walk through the door.
We all fantasize about a hotel some nights.
We all need to take deep breaths,
and drop what we carry at the front door,
and look around a room at faces who truly understand.
We all fall short.
We all crave victory.
I reminded my friend this week to love that preschool gangster she’s raising as fiercely as he fights back against her,
To own being “scary,”
because it means she’s shaping him,
and shaping is never done without resistance from what’s being shaped.
I told her to pop in that gold grill,
and do just exactly what she has been doing all along,
– Showing up for the job.
Who else could give one look and completely change behavior?
Who else’s snap can be heard for half a mile?
Who else has footsteps that sound that way?
A Mom.
A sometimes scary mom.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
