Worst Mother of the Century Awards

I am the world's worst mother. Just ask my kids. They'll be glad to tell you how awful I am. And they'd be right in some things. I'll agree that I could have been a lot better. There is no question of that. The things that get to me are the complaints about the things I felt I did right. I had a friend who used to say, “It's bad enough getting crap for things you know you are doing wrong. It's so much worse getting it for what you are doing right!” I agree.

Let's start with today. I picked up the girls from a sleepover. One they didn't want to go to but I made them so, yes, they had fun but they sure aren't going to let ME know that. What they did let me know is that the I didn't put their names on the pillows (that they had forgotten but I went all the way home to get for them). My not putting their names on resulted in Sarah getting Kelly's pillow. This was a disaster worse than the Oklahoma tornadoes!

Then Kelly informed me that I had ruined her life by not putting her into kindergarten until she was six. I explained that she had turned five just days before the school year began and I feel that children do better when they are at least five and a half when school starts. I tried to tell her my feelings but no, “everyone calls her stupid and says she got held back and she does just fine in school and I was the worst mother...”

Nothing I had to say was helping so I said, “I'm sorry. I did the best I could. Hope you do better when you have kids.” Yeah, good luck with that.

A few weeks ago, an over twenty daughter was squeezing her twelve year old sister's breasts and talking about how big her “boobs” were in front of two people we hadn't met yet. One of them was a young man. When I dared to mention that her sister might be feeling a little uncomfortable, my older daughter turned to her friends and said, “See...not even in the house five minutes and she's criticizing me.” Huh???

Here's the one I really don't get. My fourteen year old daughter shows me the dress she and her stepmom bought for her eighth grade graduation. It's adorable. It's also the size of a hankie. I have very set standards of modesty. I have had these standards for all of her fourteen years. It's not in my power to say “ you can't wear that dress” but I'm sure not going to approve of it. I said, “It's cute. I see why you like it. But you know how immodest it is. It barely covers your butt.”

She stormed to her room, verbally nominating me, again, for the worst mother of the century award. I really don't get it. So when she came out we talked. I asked her what my modesty standards are, I asked her how long I have had these standards, and then I asked why does she get mad when she chooses her own standard and I don't like it? I'm never going to like it no matter how cute it is if it doesn't fit my standard. It's that simple.

If sticking to my belief system in a corrupted world makes me the worst mother of the year, oh, well, I'll take the trophy home. I love my children more than they may ever know but I will not change my beliefs to approve of the things they are doing if I believe them to be wrong or harmful. I do not believe that unconditional love is accepting everything someone does as great. It's loving them enough to tell them when what they are doing is wrong or harmful to them or to others. Unconditional love takes guts. It's loving someone even when you might not like them or their choices. And having the courage to say so when it is needed. That's the view from my side of the street, what's yours?