“Bullying” has always been a buzzword to me, not entirely unlike “life skills” or “at risk.” The similarity lies in the fact that I know the definitions of these words and I even use them occasionally, but they seem more like fodder for grant proposals or annual reports than concepts which exist in real life….or at least in MY life.
However, this year I’ve learned more than I want to know about real life bullying. I can say in earnest that my quick education on the subject has been different and more painful than I expected because it involves my child. I never thought I’d use the words “my 6 year old” and “bully” in the same sentence, but the reality is that these very sentences have consumed much of our recent dinner conversation as we’ve attempted to help our daughter solve some very real problems.
My child has a bully. An interesting and complicating factor is that her bully is also her best friend.
As background, like many kids her age, Bailey tends to form friendships of convenience. She has played with her current BFF more than others in her classroom because they have a similar after-school situation. This is not to say that the girls don’t have a good deal in common or share mutual affection, but being readily accessible is just as important to little developing minds.
At first, I was pleased to see Bailey buddied up with another strong personality. The moment I discovered my child’s stubborn nature during the toddler years I developed a fear that she would choose friends based on ease of ability to control or manipulate. I certainly don’t want my child to be the dictator in the room and have been relieved that this hasn’t been the case with most of her friendships thus far. She and this little girl seemed to be a good match and played together well initially despite some run-of-the-mill little girl arguments.
A recent Parenting Magazinearticle explored moms’ self perceptions in a number of categories. On the topic of creativity, a majority of moms said they wouldn’t describe themselves as particularly innovative or creative. Excuse me? In my opinion, creativity is a pre-requisite for motherhood. Heck the act of becoming a mother is fundamentally indicative of our ability to create, and great minds would argue that life is art and art is life.
This brings me to Jeff Foxworthy. What connection could creativity possibly have to comedian Jeff Foxworth? When I began thinking of all the ways moms are creative even when they don’t necessarily see themselves in that light, my thoughts inexplicably came together in the form of Foxworthy’s infamous “You might be a redneck” jokes. These one-liners of 90’s fame hit home with a large segment of the population because the reality is that we all know deep down that we’re a little bit country but don’t really want to wave that freak flag in public. Foxworthy did his best to “out” everyone for their redneck tendencies. Similarly, I think most women are extremely creative but just need someone to give them the one-liners they need to recognize it!
I aim to please, folks.
Ahem.
If you’ve ever put together a last-minute Halloween costume using only a few discarded paper towel rolls, some sweat bands you found in your husband’s 80’s memorabilia box labeled “don’t touch this,” the fishnet pantyhose you bought but have been too afraid to wear, and some pipe cleaners…you just might be a creative mom.
If you’ve ever dragged yourself out of bed 20 minutes early to carve your finicky eater’s lunch sandwich into the shape of Mickey Mouse and cut up vegetables into “trees” and “swords” instead of plain old broccoli and carrots in an attempt to get him to actually put food in his mouth… you just might be a creative mom.
If you’ve ever drug out every blanket from the hall closet and used hair clips and trash bag ties to build a massive fort in order to entertain your child on a rainy Saturday afternoon… you just might be a creative mom.
If you’ve ever pulled off a delicious dinner in under 30 minutes with no advance planning and with only ground turkey, frozen vegetables and chicken broth because you haven’t been to the grocery store in over a week….you just might be a creative mom.
Australian drama, "Mortified," starring Marny Kennedy as Taylor Fry, an 11-year-old constantly embarrassed by her unpredictable family...a good example of the "Uncool Parenting Road" metaphor.
I could fill many pages with the profound truths of the parenting experience. The second I held my newborn daughter in my arms on August 23, 2004, I felt both empowered and daunted by the task at hand. Most of us would agree that we are not adequately prepared for the role of PARENT and we sometimes question our decisions along the way. The first lesson the new parent learns is that few issues are of the clear-cut, black or white variety and raising a child is not as easy as expected. However, children are precious gifts from God and we pour into them our love, time, resources and occasionally a little wisdom. In turn, they love us unconditionally and embrace us as both Superman and Mother Teresa.
And then they turn on us. Regardless of the relationship we have with our children, at some point they will become utterly and wholly embarrassed by us and we will begin a dreaded free-fall from our esteemed perch. We will be relegated to a category of “uncool” which will encompass our words, appearance, music choices, wardrobe, the way we walk, the way we breathe….you get the picture.
When I was a teenager, my mother’s crimes against humanity involved her use of odd or slightly “off” words for common items or acts. For example, instead of “throw up” she would use the not-so-easy-on-the-ears term “urp.” There was nothing that made me red in the face more than hearing this word roll off her tongue in all its onomatopoeia glory. As I write this, I’m struck by the question of why my mother would ever need to refer to the act of regurgitation in front of others outside our family but c’est la vie.
I also remember the devastation of seeing her in a bright yellow blazer which taunted me with its humiliating, well, yellowness. I remember getting reprimanded by my father for criticizing my mother’s clothing choices (although I secretly think he hated that blazer as much as I did). I, however, thought I was advancing her fashion aptitude by picking her apart each morning.
Of course, I blame my temporary rudeness on a not-yet-developed frontal lobe. I wouldn’t change a thing about my childhood and have long since pardoned my mom and dad for offenses that existed largely in my own insecure head. Now that the shoe is on the other foot, I can only imagine the ridicule I will face in the years to come. And, trust me, I already feel like I live with a 15 year old so I’ve given up hope that we will be spared tumultuous teenage years.
In fact, Bailey is developing a critical eye which seems to be largely focused on me. About a year ago, Bailey told me she didn’t like one of my outfits as it made me look too much like a boy. While I scoffed at the idea of a 6 year old telling me what not to wear, I’ll admit I’ve never worn it since. Continue reading The Road to Uncool is Paved With Good Parenting→
I may not be eligible for an AARP membership yet, but my aching knees recently served as a reminder that I am perched at the top of the proverbial hill just waiting to make my descent down the other side.
My recent awareness of the nuances of getting older has me thinking about the interesting dichotomy of spending our early years desperately wishing to be older and the rest of it longing for time to stop moving so darn quickly.
As a kid, I thought turning 18 meant I was an adult. The reality, however, was that I was still dependent on my parents, didn’t know how to do my own laundry and had to sit at the kid table at Thanksgiving.
At 22, I graduated college and felt like I had the world at my fingertips…until I realized that having a degree doesn’t mean much unless you also have a job. I spent the next year reminding myself to have fun now because I would have the rest of my life to be pinned down to a demanding career. And when I did get that first job, I was referred to as “the young one” for several years before a new “young one” came on board and relieved me of the title.
This relatively innocuous statement actually has the power to evoke pride, guilt, judgment and even jealousy depending upon who’s in the conversation and their bias about what’s “right” for children, and society. But what’s right for the moms?
Of all discussion topics, working vs. staying home gets the most play among my group of friends. Some of us have full-time jobs and some have forgone a career to raise children. Some need two incomes to get by, while others simply can’t imagine life without a career. Some who stay home have realized that working is actually more expensive than not, given the high cost of childcare. Regardless of the situation and our level of satisfaction with it, we all agree that there is no single “right” answer, as we are all faced with a different set of circumstances that impact our decisions on the issue. However, no matter how satisfied we are with those decisions, we sometimes find ourselves peering over the fence to see if the grass truly is a deeper shade of green.
Even moms who count their blessings about being able to stay home with their children sometimes long for the adult conversations they remember having when they were working. As one friend says, “When you start to discuss your problems with a toddler-sized plush SpongeBob doll, you know you need some time with grown-ups!” I’ve had moms admire my shoes and comment longingly that they could never justify the purchase given the few places they would have to wear something so dressy. Others feel they have no break from their children – as precious as they are – and battle conflicting expectations when their husband arrives home from his own long day at the office. But these may very well be good tradeoffs for the ability to share all of life’s important and teachable moments.
On the flip side, working moms are often overwhelmed with guilt about the time they spend away from their kids. I’ve always been career-minded and relatively confident in my ability to have it all in life. But, even though I often don a super hero cape, I also have some pretty powerful kryptonite. Looking down at those little people in my life makes everything go just a bit hazy.
At work, I find myself drawn to various pictures of my smiling kids. I wonder if they’ve had a healthy lunch, whether they’re watching Nickelodeon or the Disney Channel, if Nolan’s had a good “pee pee in the potty” day, and whether Bailey’s loose tooth is still hanging on by a thread. I feel anxious. I guiltily remind my mother-in-law about the soccer practice that begins before I’m even supposed to clock out for the day. And I miss them.
All that would be fine if the culmination of my day wasn’t hearing Nolan burst into tears and state emphatically that he doesn’t want to leave grandma’s house with me. Bailey sends her own message by ignoring me altogether. In these moments, when I’m kidnapping my own children from their grandparents’ house, I feel unsettled, disconnected, and a little like I’m watching my life go by from behind a pane of glass rather than out living it. I’m jealous…jealous of my friends who don’t HAVE to work and surely aren’t subject to the sadness I feel at this repeat, albeit momentary, rejection. I’m jealous that they get all day to reinforce bonds, while I’m trying to force that into the 60 minutes between dance class and bedtime.
These are the moments when the fantasies of quitting my job and becoming an at-home mom take over. I imagine myself going on all kinds of daily adventures – to the zoo, the park, and museums – while organizing play dates, catching up on scrapbooks, teaching the kids a foreign language, and sewing their winter wardrobe. We won’t go into the holes in my fantasy, but let’s just say the likelihood of me actually doing all these things is iffy at best and I stopped just short of adding to the list “make my own soap.” Hey, it’s my fantasy and I’m sticking to it.
...and I stopped just short of adding to the list “make my own soap.” - Click photo for Making Soap article.
But it’s not all bad. In fact, when I stop to remember that life isn’t all about me (what??), there are some really great benefits to my kids of being a working mom.
First and foremost, they have an amazing relationship with their grandparents that they likely wouldn’t have if I stayed home. Having more than just mom and dad to teach, reinforce, and love is an incredible blessing. In rational moments, I’m glad to endure some hard mommy moments in exchange for the wealth of experiences and memories made with their grandparents.
As much as I enjoy the work I do, my kids are really proud of me, too. When we’re having our “what happened today” conversations, I get to tell Bailey about all the babies and children who have the benefit of two loving parents in their lives because of the work my company does. The pride she feels and the fact that I’m modeling for her what I preach – that she can do anything and be anything – is enough to give guilt a high-heeled kick in the pants!
So, do these benefits outweigh the disadvantages? I honestly don’t know the answer to that question, nor would my answer be the same tomorrow as it is today. What I DO know is that I have two great kids who will never want for love, guidance, or the discipline and boundaries they need to grow into the kind of adults I want them to become. And that makes my heart happier than any amount of time with them could.
But, just in case I happen to win the lottery one day, I bookmarked some You Tube videos on making soap at home. I’m just sayin’….
Showcasing Red Dirt culture ~ authored and managed by contributors with connections to the great state of Oklahoma.
