I love being a mother. I really do. Well, most of the time anyway. I don’t know any mom (or dad for that matter) who enjoys being the bad guy. No one takes pleasure in setting limits and saying “no” when they know that a tantrum, rant or fight will follow. But that’s part of the job.
One of the things I’m hating about Disney Channel, other than their shows being somewhat “not smart” (st*pid is a bad word in my house), is that they START popular movies at 8:30pm. That’s right. Just as I’m trying to get my kids to brush their teeth, Disney is putting on their favorite movie. A movie that will not be over till almost 10pm. On a school night. WTF. Now, if I were the perfect mom I would make sure the tv is turned off BEFORE 8:30, which would help. But since I’m not perfect and stuff happens and I get distracted, AND Disney puts on ads for this “great” movie for HOURS beforehand, this system does not always work. A great movie was coming on, and it didn’t matter that they had seen it before, they wanted to watch it again.
Usually Disney has the smarts to repeat the movie the next afternoon, which helps. “You can watch it tomorrow after school,” is sometimes enough to avoid a confrontation. But last night Disney committed a big sin in this mommy’s eyes. They were NOT repeating the movie. (disclosure – we are a “backward” family with no DVR…)
When I announced that I was truly sorry, but that bedtime would indeed be happening NOW, there was much loud complaining. My autistic daughter calmed down pretty quickly when I threatened to email her teacher about her “uncooperative” behavior (yes, I use her teachers to back me up, WITH their permission I might add – we’re a team and we stick together!). My son, however, escalated his cries into wails. I could hear him in his room crying from downstairs. All I wanted was a glass of wine. Honestly.
But I sucked it up people. I knew my son was very angry with me, and I was willing to face his wrath to help him calm down and get to sleep, sleep which he obviously needed. So I knocked and went into the battlefield. After a minute I managed to cajole him into my arms. I hugged him tightly and laid him on his bed, then cuddled next to him. I stroked his hair till he fell asleep. My boy, my beautiful boy. I was glad for that moment. Not glad that he was so upset, but glad that he was still young enough to want to cuddle in bed with his mom after the anger and the tears. In a few years that will be weird and off-limits. I lingered a little just to soak it in.
As I left his room I noticed a paper on the floor. I picked it up and discovered that it was an earnest piece of hate mail from my beautiful son, directed at ME – the mom who had just held him and loved him to sleep. He was MAD. In his 7 year old phonetic spelling I couldn’t make it all out, but the first line was perfectly clear, “You oer the wrst mom evr…”
It made me smile, and I couldn’t wait to show it to my husband when he got home from work. That note is a keeper. Yep. Sometimes being a mom DOES mean that you’re the worst… But he still loved me. And the first thing my son did this morning when he woke up was seek me out and hug me. Love.