The other day I lied to my little boy. I said, “Stop it, or else…” But I truly had no idea what “or else” meant. I had no intentions of anything and had he continued doing what he was doing I think I would have been dumbfounded. There are times, too, in which I lie and tell him I will give him a cookie when I really don’t have any with me, it’s just a con to get him to listen to me. Many a times I lie but I know that as my kids get older I will want them to be honest with me. I know there’ll be times they have to lie about certain things and we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, but I want them to be honest with me.
This got me to thinking about the way I treat my kids and the way they treat me. I am the mother, I am half responsible for providing food & shelter. I make sure they eat, sleep, and stay happy. I put their needs in front of mine. But often that is not enough. I want my kids to respect me but often I don’t give them the same treatment. How I treat them is not always the way I would want them to treat me.
Today, like other days here and there, I started the day completely stressed out. I cleaned for 3 hours thinking someone was coming to see the house and because of that I was getting super aggravated with the kids. This resulted in them lashing back out at me the way kids their age do (in sneaky not so obvious ways). So far today I have had to clean up yogurt off the carpet, cola off the kitchen floor, and Lewis (knowing he’s NOT suppose to for the 1,000th time) touched the thermostat in the living room putting the heat up so high the heater smelled like fire! All these things, of course, get me even more worked up than I already am/was.
Then I get a call and am reminded from someone who loves me dearly that on the days I am calm, reserved, and relaxed…the kids are as well. And the days I am stressed right out, the kids are as well. Because they feed off my energy.
I cannot ever expect my children to give me the respect I want if I am not giving it back to them in return, or giving it to them first actually. I can’t expect my children to always be honest with me when I lie to them more often than so. I can’t expect them to laugh, dance, smile, and give I am not the prime example of such things. Maybe they’ll learn from others but I am the one they see 24 hours/7 days a week. I am the one they feed off of, learn off of, and they will do, say, and act the same way I do.
There’s so many reasons why raising kids is tough. The lack of sleep for example! But I think in my eyes this would be my number 1 hardest. Because while I am dealing with so many other things in life, they are trying to simply be children. And sometimes I forget what that’s like and I feel like relating to them is impossible.
I don’t know who or what ever made us adults forget about childhood but at some point in life it’s stolen from us and as parents I think we have to work at just letting things go (like bills and work stress, etc) and simply being the kind of person we’d like our kids to be.