Monday, April 19, 2010
In the name of dignity, I will spare my two boys and not give you the details of their difficulties. But I assure you, each boy has some tough mountains to climb on the way to maturity. It seems as if it is a never-ending job trying to teach those boys the merits of "not." Sometimes, (who am I kidding,) most of the time, my advice, ( which they would call lectures,) my consequences ( which they would call ridiculous punishments,) my tears, ( which they would call over-dramatic,) fall upon two boys who think they've got all the answers. They would never dream of listening and learning from their lame mother. So there are moments when I feel like giving up. Like I have tried every tip, read every book, spoken to every friend. These times usually happen at night, when I am lying in bed rehashing every detail of their trials and tribulations. Going over and over what I've tried and wondering for the umpteenth time why nothing seems to be working. Usually while mulling over the magnitude of these problems, a hopelessness, a feeling of futility, settles into my bones, bores a hole in my stomach, and I fall asleep bearing the weight of the pain only a mother knows when her child (or children) are struggling.
But then there's the morning...and as if by magic, a mother's spirit is renewed. There are new books to be read, others to talk to, new things to try. This restored resolution, where ever it comes from, is highly valuable for both mothers and their children. After all, without it, mothers all over the world would give up on their kids after a few failed attempts. Without that special spark that lights a fire under us, who'd light a fire under our children? We tell ourselves that somewhere, someday, all this hard work will pay off (Lordy I hope so!) And so, we push forward. Damn the mental fatigue! Three steps forward, two steps back, until progress is made or by some miracle we hear, "Mom, you were right."