When Parents Act Like Children, Sometimes the Children Know Best

When parents act like children, sometimes it takes children acting like adults to snap us out of it.  It’s easy for us as parents to walk around all high and mighty, secure in the knowledge that we know best.  We’ve had all the experience, for one thing.  We’ve been around pretty much every block at least a few times.  There is no point in arguing with us because, well, we just know better than them.  Right?

News Flash – We Aren’t Always Right

Let me tell you – feeling like we are always right is a dangerous rut to get stuck in.  Now, I’m not saying that our advice is meaningless or that we don’t see the bigger picture a lot (most?) of the time.  I know that I’m a good mom.  I’ve raised two teenagers and a preschooler of my own, I’m co-parenting another teenager and two more preschoolers,  and I’ve taught and mentored dozens of young children and students.  I pride myself in being a good listener and an understanding parent.  Lately however, my patience level has dropped below the radar and my temper has been shorter than our Labrahuaua’s legs.  I’m stuck in the I know best and you have no right to challenge me rut.

In short, I was acting like a child – and I mean like a preschooler, not one of the teenagers.  You know when your little one, in the midst of his transition from the terrible-twos to the trying-threes, crosses his arms, spins on his heels to turn his back to us, and states matter-of-factly “I don’t want to!”…  Yeah, that’s basically what I was doing.  I had my reasons.

Everyone Else is Behaving Badly – Not ME…

Uhuh…  That sounds like something one of the kids would say, and I’d shake my head and tell them that arguments are EVERYONE’s fault, regardless of who started it.

So why is it so hard for us as adults and parents to see that we are behaving just as badly as the children?  It’s our pride, and more than a little arrogance, that clouds our vision.  We are supposed to be in control, so we start to feel like we have the right to assume full control.  Guess what – we don’t.

Good Intentions Can’t Break Through the Wall of Perception

This is something I often try to remind my teenagers of.  Quick blurts of sass and attitude can aggravate a situation, regardless that the comments weren’t meant to be snarky.  Stating an opinion at the right (wrong?) moment can instantly transform calm to calamity.  Words are powerful, and tone is even stronger.  We try to teach our children to understand the strength of the words that flow from our mouths, and yet how often do we actually listen to ourselves?

I’ve talked about how important it is to get an outside perspective on the situation at hand when trying to listen to our teenagers.  What we forget I think is that it isn’t just our kids that we need to take a step back for.  Sometimes we need to look in the mirror at ourselves.  Sometimes we need someone to take us aside and let us know when we  parents act like children.

It was Admittedly a Bad Night

The kids had had me on edge all night.

We were putting up curtains to replace the ratty vertical blinds that had so many slats missing that the windows weren’t even close to being shaded.  I was  frustrated with the teenage opinions that we shouldn’t have gotten white and new blinds would have been better than curtains, and predictions that the little kids would try to hang from them (their little tugging hands are the reason the vertical blinds were missing so many slats).

Later, I was frustrated at Krystopher for sitting on his floor playing with toys. I reminded him multiple times that I’d asked him to stop playing and clean up.  When I followed through with my threat to start throwing toys away if he didn’t start cleaning, he went into freak mode and I exploded…   Dar came in to take over and give me a break, but inadvertently made things worse (in my eyes) by questioning the situation in front of Krystopher, a clear breach of the golden rule of parenting.

That Moment When Your Son Has to Take You Aside

I was huddled in the corner of the couch, headphones on, watching a webinar and trying to block out the entire family when my son asked me if he could have a word.  You know that feeling you used to get deep in your gut as a teenager when your mother or father called you aside for a talk?  That hit me.  I knew I was about to get lectured by my son.  I wanted to tell him no.  I wanted to refuse.  Instead, I tucked my proverbial tail between my legs and followed him into my room.

What you have to understand is that Kai, at 17, is a very old soul.  He has proven himself to be mature in ways I cannot fathom.  He is also very quiet.  Even in our own home, if he has something to contribute to an ongoing conversation, he raises his hand and waits.  The thing about really quiet people,is that you learn to respect the few times they have something to say.  You can be sure that it will be well thought out, valuable information.  Quiet people don’t  waste words.  Every one they utter is important.  So when Kai asks to talk to me, I know I have to listen, even if I know I’m going to get lectured.

When Our Children Act Like the Actual Adults,

…is when I suppose we can consider ourselves successful on at least some plane of parenting.  Kai took me from defensive argumentative stage, through all the ‘but‘s, ‘that’s not the same‘s and even the ‘that’s not fair‘ stage of the typical teenage lecture in a bizarre role reversal.  In the end, I had no choice but to agree with his young/old wisdom that he really had no right to possess.

It is time for me to step back and take some deep breaths.  I’ve lost my super-power, and it’s time to step backwards until I slip back into those shoes that I was so well-known for years ago.

I Used to be a Super Hero

I was amazing.  I was Super-Mom.  I was the epitome of calm, conscious parenting.  I wasn’t perfect.  My house, even back then, was a disaster.  I couldn’t run a household or manage a budget to save my life.  But I was an awesome mom.  And my kids were awesome because of it.  My son’s current countenance is a direct result of my parenting style.  Just as people now have learned to listen to him when and if he actually speaks up, my kids, my students, and basically everyone around me also stopped and listened if I ever spoke up.  Because I never yelled.  I never shouted or argued or freaked out.

Somewhere along the line, I lost that.  Some of my problem was connected to an evil toxic nodule that took over half my thyroid and all of my personality.  That has been taken care of now though, and now I have no excuse.  My kids push my buttons and I go off.  I’ve lost the ability to control my emotions and my temper.    I’ve become a tyrant.   And my son just called me out on it.

If We are Going to Lead By Example, We’d Better Pay Attention to Our Own Behavior

We all want the best for our kids.  We want them to grow up strong and independent, sure of themselves yet empathetic to others.  What do we teach them when we scream and yell because they aren’t listening to us yet we aren’t hearing them either?  How can we expect them to learn patience, forgiveness, and compassion, if we are constantly jumping on them for voicing their opinions?

According to parenting blog Raised to Love, “parenting is the art of preparing a young person for happiness in adult life”.  The most effective way to do this is to “be good to do good”.  We have to set the example.  I haven’t been doing a good job of that at all lately.

My son’s lecture left me humbled but enlightened, and hopeful.  He has faith in me, so I must have faith in myself.  I can do this.  I can find myself again.  I can be the bigger man and swallow my pride, tame my temper, and let the negative vibes slide over me without letting them get under my skin.  I can regain my Super-Mom powers.

We ended our talk with a hug, and a teary “I Love You”… followed by choking and wheezing because I apparently  blocked his airway with my shoulder… oops.