Being a Parent... Who knew it was such a hard job?

 As a newer Mom of two children, I never get a break. I wake up every morning, make coffee, clean bottles and the kitchen, feed the kids, clean up after the kids and my husband, clean the family room, take the kids upstairs to get ready, make my bed, straighten my room, clean the kids room, get them dressed, get myself dressed, start laundry, oh and then remember I made coffee (even though at this point it is too cold and bitter to drink!). The day continues on like this until we are all in bed and then we wake and it starts all over. Although I love my children more than anything and am so blessed to have the opportunity to be a Mom, sometimes I wonder, how did I not realize how hard the gift of being a parent would actually be and why didn't I appreciate my parents more?

Growing up, my parents were always busy. My dad worked, came home, paid bills and handled the finances, furthered his education, worked around the house (where Mom needed him) and did yard work. My Mom cleaned, cooked, did all our shopping, set all our appointments, drove us everywhere, encouraged our education, made sure we did what we were suppose to do (all the duties a dedicated  Mom does and more). Not to mention my Mom and Dad (when he could) where at EVERY event or function we had and I honestly do not think they missed a single event; even when that meant hopping on a plane or driving for hours. I rarely saw my parents rest and yet somehow I never considered their non stop devotion and continual hard work as a sign for how hard the job of being a parent would be for me. Especially with two children, I respect my parents and everything they did, whether I agreed with it or not, even more today.

At least now, as a Mom, I can understand that my children will not appreciate me until they have their own family and my son may never understand what I have done to give him the life he deserves. And although this life can be stressful at times, I wouldn't trade it for any other and I know that this, like every past struggle, is a stage in my life that I have been so fortunate to experience. This is why they say wisdom come with age. For now, I will love my children for who they are, thank my parents for who they have been and live my live for what it is. I am so fortunate to be here, living this life, loving the people I love and knowing what I know now.

Influencing My Children to Understand Pop Culture

I know this Mom of 5 who is so terrified of her children being "mainstream" that she refuses to allow them to be influenced by todays pop culture society. She will not let them watch age appropriate TV, radio and even goes so far as to home school them.  To me it is quite humorous especially because her children love all then things she is determined to steer them from; Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga, Glee. And really, although I may not be a fan of all things pop culture for kids today, are they really so bad? I didn't wear short skirts and knee highs because Britney Spears made the image trendy. Isn't it more important to teach our children the value of individuality and self assurance rather than teaching them that current pop culture is the enemy? What presents the most irony to me is that this Mom and her husband are/were huge Beatles fans and quality of music aside, aren't the Beatles the pop culture equivalent of Lady Gaga for their generation? I really hope that I can find a balance between allowing my children to understand their own individuality and interests and forcing my own person influences onto them. I hope that they can appreciate pop culture but also take from it what they like and leave the rest for others to enjoy.

Finding My Inner Disciplinary

My Mother was a very stern disciplinarian and as a result we were well behaved children. We did not act out in public, knew better than to throw a fit in the store and tried our best to do what would keep us on her good side. Of course there was a time when I, the rebel daughter, did act out against her strict regime, yet I always knew and understood that there would be consequences and never fought them. At times I felt like I could never be the daughter she wanted me to because her expectations were so high. I now wonder if I acted out as a way to free myself from the person she wanted me to become; who was not the person I wanted of myself.

As my son enters the 'terrible twos', I find myself wondering what kind of disciplinary I want to be to my children. I know I do not want my children to fear me or feel a sense of inadequacy when it comes to my expectations but I also want then well behaved. I want my children to know how to act in front of others, to be respectful and well mannered but I also want them to live their lives with laughter in their hearts. I am determined to raise my son to be a true gentlemen; a man who knows how to respect others and himself. I am determined to raise my daughter to be kind and compassionate and understand that she deserve respect. Yet most importantly, I want my children to have a confident sense of self.

Ultimately, I believe if you respect your children they will respect you and respect is the foundation to a solid individual. As I have well passed my years of rebellion, I now have a relationship of respect with my parents. I do not find it appropriate to be dishonest with them and expect nothing but honesty in return. It took years for us to get to this place but along the way I was always been concerned with their approval and disappointment. This regard has gotten me to the place where I can have a relationship of respect with them. I am hoping as I find my inner disciplinary, that I can help my children find an easier path to respect. I hope that if I can always respect my children then they will respect me.

Not my Mothers mouth!

In my 29 years as my Mothers daughter I cannot recall one occassion when I heard my Mother use a curse word. The worst word I have heard out of her mouth has been 'sucks' and that was only in reference to Arizona State University, which she defended as acceptable because of her University of Arizona Alumni status. Growing up my use of curse words, including sucks, was deeply frowned upon and I still get looks of dismay when I curse in her presences today. In fact, I try my hardest not to curse around her anymore out of respect and to avoid any comments. Yet somehow after being raised to be a lady, I turned out with a sailors mouth. Perhaps it started as a way for me to rebel but now it has just become a part of me. I have gotten better with the birth of my son and now use only what I consider to be moderate curse words: shit, damn, hell. I know I shouldn't even use these words especially when my son is around but it is so hard to quit. Much harder, I have found, than quiting smoking. I do think I am getting better but I know I have a long road ahead of me. How in the world am I going to raise a lady when I can't be one myself?

Keeping It Clean

 Growing up my Mother kept an immaculate house. Our almost white carpets were spotless, clutter and a "junk" drawer were unheard of, the windows and mirrors were streak free and dust was rare. I have vivid memories of my Mother cleaning the floors daily by hand and ironing our sheets. Although I do think she was a little obsessive, it was nice growing up in a clean environment. Somehow, despite my up bringing, I have never been the cleanest. I am getting better each day and I definitely do not want my children having memories of growing up in a fifthly house. The reality is, it's a lot of work to keep everything clean! I sweep my floors a couple times a day and they always seem dirty. My couch is a mess every morning. There are always dishes to do. When does it end? Mondays are my deep cleaning days and as I look around today at what little I have done and know what my evening will entail, I ask myself, how did she do it? Am I just hard wired to not be that clean?