It is the opinion of my very special friend that a mother can prove to be a male child’s greatest liability. It seems that we are quick to excuse our baby boys’ bad behavior and we can be much too tolerant of their idiosyncrasies. He and I have had this discussion many times, me arguing that such is not true. Regrettably though I find myself having to own that estimation and it is killing me to have to do so.
I have raised five male children. I have to acknowledge that my parenting skills changed considerably with my youngest son. My baby boy didn’t get the same “tough love” his brothers experienced. The love he got was no less than theirs, but he was clearly spoiled more than them. That lack of “tough” love has not served him well.
After the success I’ve seen my older boys attain, I was not prepared for my baby boy to cause me any angst as he approached adulthood. I was not prepared because he was a model child, never causing me an ounce of grief. But my child is now causing me much anxiety and it dawned on me today that I am very much responsible.
Kids make mistakes. Lord knows I made more than my fair share. But my son seems to be racking up mishaps like he’s collecting trading cards. His last disasters have cost me much money and put me in a seriously compromising position with people who respect and trust my judgment. What galls me most is the kid is walking around like he doesn’t have a clue just how this has devastated me. He has shrugged it off, mulling along like throwing away money, time, and trust is no big deal.
And through it all I have been keep trying to make excuses for him. Today, however, the last straw snapped every ounce of my resolve away. I have to own as much of his mess as he does. I allowed him to continue to make mistakes because I didn’t put my foot far enough up his narrow behind for him to get a clue. Today though, he saw another side to dear old Mom and it wasn’t’ pretty. Right now my knee cap is firmly implanted in his colon and I might not see my toes again until they’re tickling the back of his throat.
I have been my child’s greatest liability. I own that. I have not clearly detailed my expectations of him. I gave him more slack than he should have ever had. But him trying to find himself has taxed my very last nerve. He is still young and there is much life ahead of him. He will not however weigh me down one minute longer to get where he needs to go. He may fall and I will offer the best advice I can to get him back up and on his feet but I will no longer lift him and stand him up like he is incapable of doing so for himself. Not allowing him to crash and burn when he’s been jetting out of control didn’t do him an ounce of good. He has grown comfortable knowing that no matter what, Mommy will pick up the pieces and make it all better.
Well, no more.
This mommy loves her baby boy beyond reason. But newsflash, kiddo, the Mommy Band-Aid store is officially out of business.
I have raised five male children. I have to acknowledge that my parenting skills changed considerably with my youngest son. My baby boy didn’t get the same “tough love” his brothers experienced. The love he got was no less than theirs, but he was clearly spoiled more than them. That lack of “tough” love has not served him well.
After the success I’ve seen my older boys attain, I was not prepared for my baby boy to cause me any angst as he approached adulthood. I was not prepared because he was a model child, never causing me an ounce of grief. But my child is now causing me much anxiety and it dawned on me today that I am very much responsible.
Kids make mistakes. Lord knows I made more than my fair share. But my son seems to be racking up mishaps like he’s collecting trading cards. His last disasters have cost me much money and put me in a seriously compromising position with people who respect and trust my judgment. What galls me most is the kid is walking around like he doesn’t have a clue just how this has devastated me. He has shrugged it off, mulling along like throwing away money, time, and trust is no big deal.
And through it all I have been keep trying to make excuses for him. Today, however, the last straw snapped every ounce of my resolve away. I have to own as much of his mess as he does. I allowed him to continue to make mistakes because I didn’t put my foot far enough up his narrow behind for him to get a clue. Today though, he saw another side to dear old Mom and it wasn’t’ pretty. Right now my knee cap is firmly implanted in his colon and I might not see my toes again until they’re tickling the back of his throat.
I have been my child’s greatest liability. I own that. I have not clearly detailed my expectations of him. I gave him more slack than he should have ever had. But him trying to find himself has taxed my very last nerve. He is still young and there is much life ahead of him. He will not however weigh me down one minute longer to get where he needs to go. He may fall and I will offer the best advice I can to get him back up and on his feet but I will no longer lift him and stand him up like he is incapable of doing so for himself. Not allowing him to crash and burn when he’s been jetting out of control didn’t do him an ounce of good. He has grown comfortable knowing that no matter what, Mommy will pick up the pieces and make it all better.
Well, no more.
This mommy loves her baby boy beyond reason. But newsflash, kiddo, the Mommy Band-Aid store is officially out of business.
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