I’ve been pretty careful about skirting around some issues for the purpose of respecting people in my life – or protecting people in my life. This has been a little frustrating, but par for the course of ‘going public’ with my blog.
Originally I wanted a spot I could write anonymously (other than my journal). A venue where I didn’t have to edit myself. I had hoped to share and help others with some issues I haven’t addressed yet. It is what it is though, and I do have to edit myself.
Yesterday, after my post about my son I felt pretty rotten. I shared my concerns with a writer friend who told me not to edit it – to stick with what my gut told me to write.
And he was right. I wrote from my heart and from the place I was in right that second.
So consider this an amendment of sorts.
My son is kind-hearted, funny, loving, intelligent, and good.
My frustrations yesterday had to be looked at. Examined. Because the fact that I was having a physical reaction to something that wasn’t even intended to piss me off, definitely deserves to be contemplated.
If I have learned anything in the past few years, it’s that most emotions stem from fear.
I am scared.
I am fearful that I haven’t done enough, taught enough, instilled enough and the clock is ticking on my sons childhood.
He will be 18 in March of next year.
I want him to say ‘thank you’ when people do kind things for him. I want him to see someone obviously up to their elbows in work and offer a helping hand. I want him to be aware of his surroundings and make sensible choices. I want my son to know and show gratitude.
I can want these things for him until I’m blue in the face – but I can’t make them so.
I have tried to teach by example. When I missed his first step, his first laugh, a school assembly, I hoped at least he would grow up knowing the importance of hard work. Knowing that providing for your family is important.
I’m demonstrative with my gratitude, my love, my compassion. I want him to see those things in action and have them become a part of who he is.
I’ve never beat him, never told him he was less than and never has he gone without a meal or an article of clothing that he required.
My son has had the best of me and my time is almost up.
He’s going to be in the worlds kitchen while it’s population is carving, cleaning, juggling tasks. And I don’t want him behaving the way he did in mine.
I tell myself ‘God doesn’t have grandchildren’. I also remind myself that it took me a long time before I knew half of what I know today.
I guess it all boils down to that age-old wish. I don’t want him to make my mistakes.
But this isn’t about me.
I could have handled yesterday a lot better. So obviously, at 43 I still have a great deal to learn. Why be so hard on a 17-year-old?
Posted on November 25, 2012, in Gratitude, Motherhood and tagged almost an adult, bad mom, compassion, concern, did I do enough?, editing yourself, fears, gratitude, hard work, kindness, Love, motherhood, parenting, raising your child, respect, son, teaching, worry, writing. Bookmark the permalink. 17 Comments.
Well, even if he was just acting like a typical 17 year old yesterday, he still could’ve been a little sweeter to his Mom, who was just trying to make him dinner and allow for his giant friend to be comfortable. I understand that you’re feeling some remorse, but you also have to stick to your guns. Who else is going to teach him how to have proper manners and to appreciate the wonderful life he has been given? You don’t have to take the route my Evil Stepmother did, but a little tough love goes a long way. You have to be tough sometimes in order to make sure he turns out right. 😀
I agree. But, I’ve been over compensating for so long – for him not having a dad, making my childhood up to him etc. etc. I’m afraid it’s too little too late. I’m seeing my opportunity to make an impression on him slip away and it’s scary. I love him so very much – and I know he knows this. That is good. I just pray he has been listening, and watching. I pray he becomes the man I know he is deep inside.
I would say keep listening to the advice of your writer friend. He sounds extremely intelligent. 😀
Yes, he is.
don’t feel so bad. i used to egg my mom on till she tried to slap me and then i would duck and run away 🙂
lol. Well, you turned out alright. 🙂 Thanks Rachel. x
I worry about the same things. We can’t always edit our emotions, your writer friend is right about that. I always pray that I got my daughter away from her abusive father in time. I believe though that kids absorb much more than we think they do. I am sure your son is just like you. 🙂
Oh God, then he’s screwed. 😉 Just kidding. Thank you so much merbear. I know what you mean, I hope that too. I hope he’ll be out in the world and what he’s been taught will kick in.
I think let the child decide what he wants and what feelings he has.
Absolutely Akhter. It’s his journey. I just hope I’ve given him enough guidance to make the best choices for himself. Thanks for reading. And thank you for your insight.
your are welcome dear
You speak a universal truth, the heartfelt plea of every GOOD Mother, the fact that you feel this feeling, proclaims to the World of your success. No joke.
Thank you. x
Reblogged this on MetaRead360 Small Press presents and commented:
NOTE: Write from your gut..or from your heart. No fear!
Don’t beat yourself up, I think you described what all mother’s feel sometimes. Oh, and carry on writing exactly what you feel. I think it stops us all from going crazy 🙂
Kick him to the curb…… 😛 It coulld be alot worse…. My friend just picked up her 16 year old out of rehab…. For the second time…. Your blessed… Peace