A Mother's Woes

Sometimes I feel like I'm just not good enough.  No matter how hard I try I end up doing the very things I set in my mind not to do.  Losing my temper with my children seems to be a recurring event as they grow deeper into their teens, and all I want to be is the best mother I can be to both of my sons.

As my children so often to refer to my chosen method of communication, and as is so popularly coined when in reference to women who continuously speak their mind; I nag.  Am I proud of this? No.  Do I want to continue? Heck no!  But when I clearly communicate my expectations, and the matter of time in which I expect them to be followed, it irks me when I hear the constant excuses that my words were forgotten, or for that matter, not even heard... Every day?  Does the hearing mechanism in their ears only operate when I'm saying something they want to hear like, "Hey y'all want to go out to eat, or would you like a little money for your pocket?"

It is only when I become so frustrated with the daily recurrence of  a power struggle between my children and I, and then say something out of that frustration which causes my son's feelings to be hurt that I begin to feel  that maybe I'm just not good enough for my position.

Just last week my youngest son "ran away" after I told him to reclean all the mess he had left behind from his initial cleaning.  I remember telling him that I would prefer for any child of mine to leave versus not taking care of the small responsibilities that I give them while living in my home. This, of course, was not what I truly meant.  I could never see my sons living anywhere but with me while they are being raised, but it took a conversation with my husband for me to see that maybe he had interpreted my words the wrong way.

After saying this to my son he dropped what he was doing and began to walk out of the house.  At first with nothing, but then deciding to turn around and retrieve his phone.  A phone I quickly confiscated, reminding him that I still paid the bill.  He left in a huff and began the long walk out of our neighborhood in 90 degree weather.

I was hot on his trail. trying to give tough love, but at the same time having a protective mother instinct that immediately takes over whenever I feel one of my children would face even the slightest bit of danger.  I followed him for about a quarter of a mile until I noticed that he was becoming increasingly tired.  This is when I decided enough was enough and pulled up beside him so that he could see that I had been following him.  He chose to run from me, yelling that I only cared about myself; the same thing he had said on his way out the door.  I ignored this because I knew he was angry, and parked the car waiting, because I knew eventually he would turn around.  He did, and when he got back into the car he told me that if I really cared about him I would have never let him leave.  Oh, but how far from the truth he was.

When we got back to the house we had a long conversation about tough love, and I apologized if I had given him the wrong impression, and had been too hard on him.  I also made sure he knew that I was still mama, and had rules which I expected to be followed.  Our conversation ended well, as we both reached a better understanding of how the other operates.

I can only hope now that my 16 year old is mad at me, he and I can come to the same understanding.  If only there was an instruction book on how to raise teen-aged boys out there, it would be a number one seller, and I would be first in line for my copy.

Woe is me...