You hated it when your Mom said it. You swore to yourself that when it came to raising a child of your own you would NEVER say those eight awful words.
You would be the perfect mother, and your children would be perfect angels. You would rule with a gentle but firm hand and never raise your voice. In your world, the children would be fed, bathed and lovingly tucked in bed by six, and your husband would be greeted by sweet serenity every night when he crossed the threshold.
You didn’t take in to account what the cost of raising a child would have to your psyche! When talking to children you find yourself spiraling down into this dark place, as nothing you try seems to get through. One by one, you break every vow you ever made about the way you were going to raise YOUR kids. Your voice rises to a screech, and your mood plummets.
You’ve tried the time out, which you always despised when you were a child. Doesn’t work. You send them to their rooms. They color on the walls. You threaten them with grounding - from what? They’re two and four! You toy with the idea of sending them to bed with no supper - but you know you’re wayyy too much of a softy to follow through.
And so you fall back on the one method you swore you would never resort to, the ultimate threat of everywhere fear…
“You just WAIT until your FATHER gets home!!!”
It’s OK. When they grow up, they’ll say it to their kids, too.
Isn’t it incredible when you hear your mother speaking out of your own mouth?
Is it a type of possession?! Or is it tapping into a cosmic thread of parenting history that runs through us all?
I don’t know. But I do know that we have a choice about how we parent.
I keep telling myself that I will get it wrong sometimes, get it right often enough, and occasionally completely stuff it up. But that’s alright, so do the kids.
OMG I do it toooo! And I ALWAYS said I wouldn’t. I feel not so mad at my mom now cuz I know whatshe went through now that I have kids myself!