It's my opinion, based on observation of my own relationship with my mother as well as observation of my adult friends' relationships with their own mothers, that there's only so much an adult child can do if their parent didn't/doesn't lay the groundwork for a good lifelong relationship. So today and tomorrow are going to be about reasonable expectations of the adult child's parent. I'm hoping some of my commenters with adult children of their own (Kathy B and Sharon Silver, in particular) will toss their own thoughts into the comments. (Thursday we'll talk about responsibilities of the adult child. Friday will be controlling the repercussions of your relationship with your parent to create an even better one with your own kids.)
For this week: parent = parent of the adult child, and child = adult child.
What's the responsibility of a parent to an adult child?
I called in two guests, since I'm not a parent of an adult child. Today's guest is my friend/mentor Num-Num (not her real name), who is the parent of an amazing, wonderful 40-year-old man* who voluntarily lives within walking distance of her (with his brilliant wife and their above-average preschooler). Num-Num says:
"I’ve answered the question for those of us who love mothering. For those who have felt burdened by it, it’s a whole other story, and it’s more about responsibility than love.Mothering never changes. Boundaries change, responsibilities change, resources and life circumstances may, but mothering doesn’t.
There are few boundaries at birth and each separation is a brick in a wall of independence, both for you and your child. Long before adolescence, a child’s body has been turned over to her to care for. (That’s when you might think about the wisdom of criticizing her hair.)
After adolescence, her mind and heart gradually separate from her mother’s. But just as your own mother is more important to you than you might have imagined when you were a rebellious teenager, your children will feel the same way. It is shocking, sometimes, how much weight a casual motherly comment will carry. (You’re using cloth diapers? All I can say is thank God for disposables.)
At each major stage in your child’s life, she goes through turmoil that resembles leaving the womb, especially when she exits out into the world. For those of us who have loved being mothers as much as we’ve loved our children, the last is the critical time. You never stop being a mother, but you back off, gradually, while she tests out who she is and what she wants from life. You keep one hand lightly on the small of her back and send brownies. Be prepared for a certain disdain for your opinions as she adapts to her own generation and a world that is new to her, if not to you.
She ought to be able to count on you to remind her of the constant thread of her gifts, of the track record of her successes, and of how much you believe in her. Don’t worry about setting her straight about her faults; she’ll encounter others happy to do that.
Some common interests, developed over the years, help you spend your time together without the need to examine every inch of your personal lives, or chew your child’s small and large decisions to pieces. Is there any decision anyone ever makes, from when you start feeding a baby solids to which spouse or profession to choose that can’t be challenged?
Recognize that as your child becomes independent she needs you less, but when she does, she may startle you by turning into the ten-year-old you had almost forgotten about. Unnerved as you may be, when you hear that desperate cry, drop everything. It’s been said that soldiers call for their mothers in the heat of battle. It’s primitive.
Children also have a duty to establish their own families. Loving them often means waiting to be called on to help; believing that if you figured out how to raise your children, they’ll do the same; trusting that you’ve given them a good road map and, even if they’re off on a detour, they know the way back. Most important in families is for the grandparents to understand (and to call on memory) that their grandchildren do not belong to them. Parents get to decide when and how you see them. There is nothing to beat the enchantment of grandchildren, but they are someone else’s children.
Mothers of adult children also have some realistic expectations as well. Your children need to know that you may not be able to help them in ways you could when you were younger. You ought to tell them, really you should. When you need your children, it’s also a natural thing for families to sacrifice for one another and give each other love and comfort. There is no time limit on that. But the hierarchy of needs that’s been mentioned should have everything to do with the seriousness of the need, not the person who has the need.
I haven’t talked about specific situations. But I’d be glad to, if it would help make the principles seem more real. If you have an endless series of conflicts with your Mother, decide what your self-respect requires you to do for her. Then look for role models and semi-surrogates in your life. You have only one Mother, but there can be multiple motherly influences.
With all my instructions about holding back, mothering with a light hand, being positive and rarely interfering, I have always told my children that I reserve the right to pull them back if I see a Mack Truck coming their way. I get to judge whether or not it’s a truck."
I see Num-Num working constantly to get it right with her son and DIL, to be close enough without smothering them. I think this is particularly important: "the hierarchy of needs that’s been mentioned should have everything to do with the seriousness of the need, not the person who has the need."
What resonates with you in what Num-Num says?
Tomorrow's guest poster is going to be my mom. Get ready, because it's a loooong post.
* Cute, funny, smart, a provider, does his share of night duty, enjoys being around women. He's not perfect, I'm sure, but she really did a great job with him.
I think we all do the best we can at the time, and that it's natural to keep wanting/hoping that your parents can give you what you need. Even understanding why my parents are the way they are (growing up in harsh families w/either emotional or physical abuse and Victorian notions about parenting & children, doesn't always help. I get caught between empathy for what THEY didn't get as kids, and bitterness for what I didn't get as a kid, and then more bitterness/anxiety when I feel like I'm acting just like my mother toward my own child.
There's a phrase that's sometimes been helpful for me, "Don't go to the hardware store for milk." As in, don't go to my emotionally unavailable parents to get my emotional needs met. When I've had a good experience with either of them, I sometimes let down my shields more & hope for more, and then get slammed.
I also don't get to share much of my parenting w/them, as my mother takes it as direct criticism. which it isn't meant to be, however it is to some degree in response to how her parenting felt to me. so she doesn't know that my husband has been co-sleeping with my son, and that we just recently moved on to our son sleeping on his own, and we've done it gently & so far so good. sad to not share this success with her.
we've had to detach with love (which is hard because it's easier to detach w/bitterness & anger!) so still working this out. our parents are aged and somewhat infirm, physically & mentally. we have geographic distance & had put some emotional distance there as well. they are not going to be very involved in our child's life and it's sad, but that's the way it is. I grieve it in little ways all the time. sometimes I'm very accepting & other times it hurts too much. and sometimes I feel like a very small hurt child who is not capable of parenting another very small child. which feels ridiculous as I've just turned 44!
Posted by: Lisa F. | May 27, 2008 at 02:54 PM
I woke up and read that Moxie was asking me to share in this post and realized this will be “long post” week from many of us, please forgive me in advance. This is a huge one for me, and Moxie knows why, my son just announced last week that he’s moving to Spain, I’ll get to that in a moment.
I’ve read the posts, many of you have had great moms, and you should shout it from the rooftops. But not all of us were that lucky. I’m going to open up and take a risk here and share a little of my story, hopefully it will make sense and possibly inspire those of you, who like me, lived a slightly less shiny childhood and may be afraid of repeating some of that parenting with your own children, I know I was.
I’ve been parenting since my sister was born; I was three years old. My sister was an RH baby who had her entire blood supply transfused at birth, it’s what they did then, before the shot they have now. The Dr told my mom not to touch my sister except when bathing, feeding or changing her, they were afraid of germs after the transfusion. Mom says each morning she’d hear a cry from my sister and go peak on her, only to find me sitting in the crib already holding her. Mom said she loved that; she could get some more sleep, so that became my job. That’s how mom chose to parent us, I was the nurturer, I became the emotional parent for my sister at 3 and the fall out from that moment has rippled through our lives into adulthood.
Mom was serious about two things in life, her life or lack there of, and punishment. Mom believed in “my way or the highway!”
I suspect my mother never really knew, until it was way too late, that she didn’t really want children. We were a bother in her life. Don’t get me wrong, I know now that she loves us and always has, but she wasn’t good at the job, her words-not mine. She has always said, and it’s true, “that’s what you did in my day and age. You went from your parent’s home to your husband’s home and you had children. You never got to find out who you were; women didn’t matter.” My heart is sad for her on that one, I know that was true for her.
My mother was pissed off ALL the time and we were to be seen and not heard. Hedra speaks of knowing she was supported and inspired to be independent. It was the exact opposite for me. I never remember being supported for anything. I was always taken down several pegs; I was criticized and told that almost everything about me was wrong. From intellect and curly hair to my glasses, to my body size and my “loud” mouth, I was wrong; I didn’t fit the mold.
I know now that my mom felt powerless, and acted from that place of powerlessness as she mothered. Her reaction to her powerlessness was to shove punishment, her power, down our throats. This was her unconscious way to feel more powerful in a life where she felt helpless.
And yet I struggled, especially during the early years that I was parenting, for answers as to why I felt that mom didn’t love us or why she didn’t want us around. I spent many years filled with anger and blame on that one. By this time I had children of my own and I knew pure love. I knew the importance of attention. There wasn’t a cell in my body that could do anything but love them, so what was wrong with my mom and why had I been cheated of such love.
Believe me, I have dealt with this one, and I own it. Blame is no longer my chant. I know that my ideal childhood was my dream not hers. I came to know that forgiveness was my answer.
Forgiveness was what I need to do for me, not her. I came to understand that point when a very wise woman once asked me how I would feel if my children never forgave me for my parenting faults? When I began breathing again, I knew the depth of the pain I had sent to my mother, and I no longer wanted any part of causing her pain. I would not do to her what she had done to me; I would not reject her. I began to show my love and find ways to repair a relationship that was broken and damaged. I, of course had now begun to mother my mom, not a good choice. I had to deal with that one as well. This of course happened as a result of her first bout with cancer, oh how life works!
Now maybe you can begin to see why I do-what I do as my life’s work. I sum up my career as an educator as helping parents go from punishment and criticism to heart-felt supportive discipline. If it were up to me no child would feel rejection or the deep wounds of criticism, ever. A pipe dream I know, but it fuels me.
I had to, and have found ways to release myself, reconfigure my view of myself, and consciously choose to be warm and present with my parents. I do that now having learned they did the best they could with the knowledge they had. Still hard to accept fully, but remembering that point puts me in a better place than other thoughts I had!
Num, Num, I love the name! She said mothering never changes. I agree and disagree. Mothering in its purest form never changes. But mothering done not so well REQUIRES change. The buck must stop somewhere. Someone must be willing to stop the bad behavior that’s perpetrated on a child from going forth into the next generation. There are times when mothering must change.
My favorite thing to say to parents is, when you parent you’re holding hands with three generations, your parent’s generation, your generation, and your child’s generation. When you make changes, you not only impact your child, but you’re changing things for those yet to be born, your grandchildren, as well!
Sorry Hedra, but I disagree with you on the brick point. For my sons the bricks have been bricks of independence, for me they were bricks of separation. There is no doubt Hedra is correct about this part, the bricks need to be and should be bricks to build a foundation. But the bricks can only be a solid foundation of freedom and support if that’s the intention of the bricklayer. Hedra’s mom sounds wise and clear, so it is no surprise that Hedra is wise and clear too!
For those of us who had other mothers, the bricks were not put there to free us. My bricks unconsciously repeated the pattern of my parent’s childhood. The results were that the bricks separated both my sister and myself from ourselves. The bricks formed a pattern of lack of confidence, shame for disagreeing with family and anger for not being treated as you saw others being treated and so on and so on.
This leads my story to the next generation, my sons. Please wipe off the tears of joy that are all over the screen. My oldest, or taller as I call him, moved into our house last night to pack and get ready to move to Spain. My other son, tall, is living in Oregon and doing so very well. And that brings me to my point; I knew I had one—bricks of independence or separation. Which was it for you, and what will it be for your children?
There is one thing I know to be true. My children could not be who they are if they had not gotten bricks of independence. And giving them those bricks REQUIRED that I change myself and my parenting or I would have simply repeated the same pattern of brick laying that my parents used.
Num, Num poses the point that parents need to stop chewing on a child’s small and large decisions. My parents believed that they knew me better than I knew myself, and felt that gave them license to be involved in every decision I made. I’m sure the fact that I didn’t give them that power caused a few problems, another post.
I didn’t do that to my sons, I always told them they know themselves best. I showed them how to access their own ability to make a decision. I told them to go inside and feel their feelings. I raised them to pay attention to how they feel, not how I feel, as a way to make a decision. I knew they had to know where to find their roadmap, their guidance system if they were to be successful in life. And now the result of fostering that independence is on my plate big time!
Do I feel good that he is leaving—are you crazy! I’m sad, hence the tear stained screen. But I’m also overjoyed at his strength, independence and curiosity about the world around him.
I have been blessed to witness the growth of two individuals who are stronger than I am, and that is not said to diminish my own value. Each generation has to be faster, stronger and brighter than the one before it, that’s how life progresses.
I have blathered on for way to long, sorry about that. I hope you found a grain for yourself in my rant. If you came from a slightly less shiny childhood than others, no need to fear, your pain can be used as growth.
Your wound can show you how you DON'T want to parent, and can cause you to choose how you DO want to parent. And that is how I put my wounds to their best use, and you can too.
Your children will thank you for stopping the wounds from leaking into another generation, they are family members, and they see what’s going on with you and your parents. Both of my sons, I’ll be honest and say it didn’t happen until after college, but it did happen, did call home and thank me for raising them to be strong and independent, and that has been my greatest moments as a mom. They got it; they saw my pain and realized even with all my faults as a parent, I didn’t visit my pain on them!
Posted by: sharon aka mommie mentor | May 27, 2008 at 03:08 PM
@Hush - Don't worry, my mom is an enigma to me too! But as an only child, I often yearn for the solidarity that I think a sibling could provide. It would be nice to be able to discuss things with someone else my mother had a hand in raising.
Like you, I often felt when I was younger that I was the bad one and our fights were my fault. In fact, it wasn't until I lived on my own in college that I realized that things in our family were seriously wrong. I wonder if I would have realized that sooner if I had had a sibling to discuss everything with?
Posted by: ace | May 27, 2008 at 03:16 PM
I just have to say how delighted I am at the richness of my relationship with my dd now that she's a mother, too. She was always crazy independent. Although we aided and abetted her, we worried we were throwing her under the wheels of the train! But she and dear sol now have this delightful little guy, and it seems like THIS was what she and I had been waiting for all along.
We've hit our stride together - oh, joy! Maybe it's easier because I'm curious about their decisions, but don't have opinions myself. I care, but I can't imagine the world they live in except to see they're strong, smart, funny and kind, and are making a fine life together.
What they need from me are periodic visits to shop, cook, clean, do laundry and weed the garden (with frequent baby breaks!), and constant phone calls and emails so she can sort things out for herself. Sometimes it's to cry or grumble or snivel - and I'm honored she feels safe showing me all her navel lint. Painful as it all is to hear sometimes, and much as I wish I could make it better, I know all those feelings and respect her too much to dismiss them and her struggle. When the clouds clear, I see an amazing woman (tears) whom I love more than ever.
Posted by: filbert | May 27, 2008 at 03:33 PM
Ah, Sharon, you're right - they CAN be bricks of separation - if that's how they choose to place them. I was speaking to the process we're working here - being better parents than our own. If we're allowing them their steps toward independence normally, *those* experiences don't build a wall of bricks, at least not in my experience or observation. But yeah, there sure are a lot of other bricks they set up there that weren't maybe what we were meaning to give them. If we're giving them the bricks they need, they'll build foundations - even if the foundations are not nearby. The separation has to do with other choices, not with the bricks they formed with each step of independence.
My mom got the same bricks you did, by the way, plus those of your mother, too - constant destruction. She was too anything - too smart for a girl, too blonde, too skinny. She tells of the 'when you grow up and when you get married and when you have children' assumption, so profound there really weren't any spaces there - it was whenyou growupandwhenyougetmarriedandwhenyouhavechildren. There was no self for girls. And less for her than some. If she did it, it was wrong, until the day her last elder relative died. If she was proud of something she's accomplished, she was a braggart, if she succeeded with money she was greedy and shallow, if she asked after someone's health she was nosy. She was never enough. She wasn't *allowed* to be loved, admired, cared for, respected. She wasn't allowed, period.
Frankly, it's a miracle she physically survived, and at one point she was the only reason her sister survived (she stopped her mother from suffocating her infant sister, and got a broken bone for her effort).
Wise and clear can also come from the bricks we discard. The bricks we collect from other people are also forming a foundation - and as parents we don't get to choose where that foundation is laid. Or even whether they'll use the bricks we give them - it's fingers crossed and hoping that the brick is right for them at some time, even if they just use it as a doorstop. The separation comes in the fact that they are the builders, and we are not. The sense of separation - when the relationship was healthy and supportive - comes from the fact that they choose the design, site, and construction - it is not up to us. THAT is separation, yes. But it is a side effect of their process - if I picture them building a wall, I picture them walling themselves off from me. ... And that was what I was talking about, not the fact that separation comes in their time, at their choice - it comes, and there may be walls indeed, but I still don't think the walls are built with the bricks of independence.
But yes, it works whatever way they need it to work. The bricks are just bricks, and they can build whatever they wish with them. If we give them ones that don't serve them as foundation, then they may end up being part of a wall instead. I can see 'wall' imagery up to when they have their foundation built (whatever age that ends up being), and then ... then wall is only left if needed. And I know plenty of people whose kids didn't ever build a wall of separation - it was merely foundation not right next to the family of origin.
Looking around my family, we are scattered - at one point we were Alaska to Florida, Southern CA, Oregon, and east coast. But the scatter isn't separation, it's distance. The steps toward independence were the good bricks of foundation, they weren't the damaged lessons. The walls were built more often by the times when independence was NOT granted, not the times when it was.
Does that make sense? (I suspect we're working different analogies with the same words, here. ;) )
Posted by: hedra | May 27, 2008 at 03:57 PM
Hedra you nailed it.
Sounds like your mom and I have lived parallel lives. My mom tried to suffocate my sister too, I wasn't present.
The "not being allowed to be you" was described brilliantly. To this very day my family has no idea of my success, if I shared it with them I would be accused of bragging.
I also think we ARE working the same analogies with different styles and words. Just like the laying of bricks. It;s different for everyone.
This also gives me a chance to say mention another point I forgot. I wanted to mention the amazing opportunity for growth that comes from the bricks.
The opportunity is the chance adult children get when they dismantle the wall for themselves.
If I hadn't lived the life I lived I would have never been motivated enough to dismantle the wall for myself and my needs. I would have never found my voice, my passion, and my life. So for me, the wall of separation, in the end, has blossomed into a wall of wholeness.
I read my son this post before I posted it and this is what he said. "No one can believe that it's possible to be friends with your parents, most people dread staying with their folks, I love it-we're friends and it's fun!" His words, not mine.
That statement shows me that his bricks created a foundation of independence that fostered his appropriate goal of separation and it worked because his bricks were lined with supportive mortar, very different than my own. We, as a family, are fine with being in different locations, we are sad-but invested in supporting all of our dreams and freedom.
Hedra, you and I are on the same page, even if we come from different generations!!
Posted by: sharon aka mommie mentor | May 27, 2008 at 04:24 PM
These comments are really interesting and enlightening, every time I break to write my own I just get sucked back in. I want to apologize in advance that my thoughts won’t be as well formed as others because I am so utterly confused at what my mom is supposed to be for me. I had a terrible relationship with my mom during the teen years but (like others here) it seemingly got better after I left home. Now that I have 2 kids it’s a mess. (Are teenage and postpartum hormones similar?) My mom was a “you do it yourself” or “I’ll just do it for you” mom but NEVER a “Let’s do this together” mom. She will only help if I am utterly out of commission, otherwise it’s “I had to do it (undoubtedly uphill with 50lb weights attached to her arms) so you can do it”. I know she had things hard, but she uses it as a weapon (GUILT!!) instead of a tool with which to teach, or educate her 5 offspring. Reading Num-Num’s post on what the parent should be to an adult child made me so sad because for us it’s just not there and I’ve resigned myself to the fact it never will be. I too had a bad experience after the birth of #2 and needed comfort/love/support as well as help with things like cooking, cleaning and holding the screaming baby. My mom was instead helping my deadbeat, very manipulative 38 yo brother clean out his trailer. It’s been months, and she’s pseudo apologized (“You probably needed my help then?” Ya think?!!!!), but I can’t get past it. I felt totally abandoned by her. I hear so many people say how much more they appreciate their mothers once they have kids. I only see her faults. Why couldn’t she put down the ironing and color with me once in my ENTIRE childhood? I know I’m bitter and the issues are deeper but I wish for a sense of peace and love when I think about her after she’s gone, because the feeling I have now is so disgusting. Some days I am absolutely appalled at the way she raised me. She definitely raised all 5 of us very differently. She let the easy, independent, intelligent one’s raise themselves and was a crutch and enabler for the problem children. Sometimes I want to scream “I needed/need you too!!!” at the top of my lungs but I know it would be lost on her. My mantra has been “she did the best she could with what she had” and this has afforded our relationship to proceed without blowing up. But I’m a mom now and I gotta say, that shits not flying anymore. She can’t change what she did then but she can try now. And she’s not and it hurts just as much now as it did at 14.
Posted by: rowan+keaton+mama | May 27, 2008 at 04:37 PM
The grandparent stuff resonates with me. I adore my mother; she's my best friend (and "Hi, Mom" as I know you'll read this), but she often forgets that I'm the parent of those adorable kids... not her. My mother has great judgment, and she is rarely wrong... but she likes to beat me to the punch with the kids. Hey, I have great judgment too! Trust me a little... I think her lack of trust in me to be the great mother I am is where she and I snag in our own relationship.
Posted by: Amy | May 27, 2008 at 04:44 PM
@r+k-mama: Your description of your mom really resonates with me. I have often had a confusing combination of feelings around my mom: why do I feel so under-the-microscope with her AND why is she always too busy to be there for me? In my family, it's all about crisis-management. If I NEED her, she'll be there, no question. But it has to be a real need, not just a want. Because she has other [more important is the implication] things to do.
So, for example, she used to have a standing arrangement to watch my kids on Fridays. Friday isn't a work day for me, so the idea was that some weeks we'd all do something together, some weeks I'd be able to leave and do something on my own and there wouldn't be a childcare gap on the weeks that she wasn't available.
It didn't take long, though, before she started calling in the morning before she headed out. Did I need her to be there right away? Because if not, she had a few errands she could run on the way up. Also was I planning to leave while the kids were napping? Because if not, she might just go ahead and go after lunch; again, things to get done, you know. It all combined to make me feel like she didn't really want to spend time with any of us. She didn't care enough about it to prioritize it above a trip to Costco, ya know?
Anyway, I have some of those same feelings. I'm proud that I'm capable and strong and competent, but at the same time I hate that she can't figure out that she can be supportive even when I don't need rescuing.
Posted by: Jan | May 27, 2008 at 05:00 PM
This ties into the body image posts too, doesn't it? At least for me? My mother and I have a very strained relationship, and as I get older and look in the mirror it can be really, really hard to see that I LOOK like her. It's an unwanted visual reminder that she will always have some sway over me, through DNA and my childhood experience.
Posted by: dregina | May 27, 2008 at 05:09 PM
My wonderful Auntie once told me that we need to give kids two things - roots and wings. To this day that is my favorite simple parenting philosophy.
Posted by: H | May 27, 2008 at 06:01 PM
Like Maria Wood, I lost my mother when I was 24, after she had been sick for years, and I lost my dad two years before that. I never really got to have an adult relationship with either of them. I can't decide if that is a good thing or not. On the one hand, I never grew to resent them for interfering in my life. On the other hand, they weren't there to interfere in my life to try to keep me from making some pretty bad mistakes.
Posted by: Sheryl | May 27, 2008 at 06:02 PM
Oh what a subject. I almost didn't want to post, feeling like a bad person after reading about so many people working it out with their difficult moms.
My mom and I have a comfortable relationship I'd say (we're far from best friends), which is better than it's been since I was about 6 and about where I like it. If it gets beyond that, she eagerly jumps in and every boundary I set becomes the trenches of the Somme--there are endless vicious fights over where *exactly* the boundary is and how I'm wrong about it and whether setting one in the first place means I hate her and how she could have gone so wrong as to raise a child like me and how embarrassed she would be if her friends ever found out I was excluding her in this way. She, like so many others have mentioned, comes by her issues honestly--authoritarian, abusive, possibly undiagnosed asperger's parent and 2nd parent unable/unwilling to go against the authority. She's done better than her parents--by a LOT--and I love and honor her for that, but there are a lot of things she's not prepared to let go of despite extensive therapy (well, she fires a lot of therapists, mainly as far as we can tell for not agreeing with her interpretations of things enough) and at some point it just. couldn't. be my problem anymore.
I wasted a lot of emotional energy in my teens and twenties trying to help enough, be good enough, involve her enough, provide opportunities to heal her wounds through my life. Didn't work--my mother specializes in double-binds, one I can laugh about now being the successive "we don't spend all this money on private school so you can get Bs" and then, when presented with my next, improved report card, "there's something inhuman about people who get perfect straight As--a 3.9 is classier". She is stunningly un-self-aware, and sadly, I believe still very unhappy and haunted. But I've learned that I can't un-haunt her, and I'm damned if I'm going to put my mothering under the kind of lens she's used on the rest of my life--it's too important. Getting my writing out from under it took some serious therapy, but it's been easier with the parenting because my expectations had changed. I don't mourn some ideal mother--I have the mother I have and I believe she gave me as much as she could. She's fantastic for some things and certain kinds of advice, but by no means an unconditional supporter. I love her, I'm all grown up, and Mouse adores her. I wish she'd talk less about how jealous she is of Mouse and conversely, how we're spoiling her...but that's just life.
Luckily, my father (who was the primary caregiver when I was small) has always found it easy to treat us as people and he still does. He's been happy for my happiness, commiserated with my pain, suggested things and not necessarily expected me to do them...called me out when he's upset with me...and not assumed that whatever I do is a personal reflection on him. My mother was for a long time jealous of my close relationship with him (they're together) and in fact a couple years ago insisted that we not talk without her present and a few other things. I do mourn that--it was something tangible I used to have and now miss. But I know why he made the choice he did and I respect it. Again, I'm grown up--I can manage.
I don't know if I want Mouse to think of me as her best friend when she's grown--I certainly hope she'll know me as a constant supporter and sounding board--and I hope I will have helped her build a foundation, watched her go to live in it, and cried my inevitable tears in private...and of course I hope to adore her children and spoil them rotten...but I'm not so sure that tight, tight parental relationships are the ideal for everybody.
Posted by: Charisse | May 27, 2008 at 06:25 PM
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
Posted by: Kristine | May 27, 2008 at 07:06 PM
Wow this post & this weeks will definitely hit close to home. I'm the oldest of 4 kids & 2 of us my brother & I both have kids. When I had their first grandchild I was told that they weren't ready to be grandparents yet & we had to fly out with a 4 month old to see them for them to see him for the first time. Since then they have only visited once when it coincided with a conference. Other than that it was expected that we would go to them (in another state) if we wanted them to be in our children's lives. We also wouldn't be allowed to stay at their place but have to rent a hotel since they didn't want to be woken up by young kids early in the morning. "they did their tour of duty already" I now have three children & they have yet to see the youngest in person & he'll be 3 this year. They haven't seen the older two in 6 years despite offers to pay for them to fly out to visit.
I just cringe since I grew up with grandparents coming to visit for a week at a time at least once a year & wanting to be part of our lives. How can you go from expecting that as your role model to the exact opposite? And boundaries won't work with my mom. I purposely don't tell her anything about my life or the kids since any slight or mistake is brought up forever. I'm still hearing about things I did when I was in high school and I'm almost 40!
I am just so fortunate I have a fabulous mother in law who loves the kids & flies out to visit twice a year. When my parents call the kids try to pass off the phone as fast as possible. When their "grandma" calls I have to wrestle the phone away to talk to her grin!
I was the stubborn independent one who did things my way & wouldn't do things just to be popular or part of the crowd. I came to the realization that to her I will always be a disappointment (it was said over the phone to me several times) to her & never measure up regardless of what I do. I'd love to shut her out of my life but dh won't let me since he said I'd regret it. So I just talk about the weather listen to her brag about how fabulous my brothers kids are & am happy that they are at least involved in their kids lives but know that I would never ask anything from them since it would be brought up as a reminder of what they "sacrificed for me" for the rest of my life.
A very theraputic week this will be. Thanks so much Moxie et al.
Posted by: dawn | May 27, 2008 at 08:03 PM
@rowan+keaton's mom - that's the same reaction that I had to my step-son's mother when I had a baby. The bio-mom is mostly out of the picture, and frankly, has missed out on a wonderful kid. Before my daughter was born, I had some empathy for her - doing the best she can with what she has (which is not much). However, all that went out the window when I had a baby. The sentiment was, "She can't even send a postcard? I can totally understand not having money to run up the phone bill every week or fly the kid out for visits, but what about a postcard???" The baby is 5 1/2 now and the feeling has simmered down to "Man, did she miss out."
Posted by: Cathy | May 27, 2008 at 08:11 PM
My dad: totally absent - physically and emotionally for 15 years of my life....until I was well into college. Guess what? His parents were the same to him, and us. They were the kind of grandparents who wanted to see us dressed up on Christmas Eve.....and maybe again at Easter. They never babysat, we never went over there without my dad, we never did anything with them. Visits were usually a couple hours tops.
My mom: Involved in every way within reason (as per my post earlier) and her parents? We spent every new year's eve at their house, spent the night drinking root beer floats, they would give endless back scratches, drop everything to take us to the bookstore and sit on a bench outside the store while we wandered around for hours, bought us all the books we wanted even though they couldn't afford it, got a dog for us TWO different times because we begged them to (they both hated dogs), my grandfather would screech to a halt at the curb if one of us even MURMURED "Oh, look....doughnuts" and buy us a full dozen. Before my mom switched careers my grandfather would get us up in the mornings and drive us to school and pick us up at the end of the day. They were involved, but again always maintained a respectable distance and did things the way my mom wanted them done. NEVER did they judge her or her decisions. The only thing they did that was against her rules was to slip us $20 bills when she wasn't looking. But she actually knew about that too. Maybe for some people this would be too involved, but I am so blessed that Alex has the kind of relationship with his grandparents (my mom and stepdad) that my brother and I were able to have with ours.
I think it's easy to continue with the kind of parenting you got, and so extremely hard to break the cycle - my husband struggles with this every day. But it is possible, and I commend all of you out there for being *so* self-aware and the hard work you do every day.
My grandparents were not at all perfect, and neither is my mom - she drives me crazy at least once a week with some "advice".....but I'd rather have it than not have her.
Our relationship changed dramatically once I had Alex. And I think she always knew that would happen and was so happy to finally have me "get it". And I do. Except for the times when I'm too busy being an exasperated 15 year old.
Posted by: Julie | May 27, 2008 at 08:20 PM
So much to relate to – even without a living mother through my mothering journey! I too got less sympathetic with my mother after I had a baby:
I too get an awful sinking feeling when I see that I'm looking more and more like my mother. She was unhealthy in the extreme as I reached my teens and early 20s; the years of drinking and smoking and not exercising were taking their toll. Combined with her fierce refusal to make any effort with her appearance – which was couched as a free-spirited, liberated, hippie attitude, but which I now recognize was undoubtedly a product of awful self-esteem and feelings of unworthiness (transferred of course to me, as I've posted here before) – she was a mess.
I don't think I'm that much of a mess, but since having a baby, going through the process of leaving an abusive relationship and trying to keep things together as a single parent – well, I am less fit and more overweight than I've ever been, my haircuts are few and far between, and my clothing is ill-fitting and practical. So I have huge feelings of dread when I see my mother's jowls and soft neck in the mirror.
I do think my mother did better, at least in some ways, than her mother did, and I am trying like the devil to do better than she did. At least I don't smoke and drink, and I attempt to quell my judgementalism, and I have some self-awareness.
Posted by: Maria Wood | May 27, 2008 at 08:21 PM
Just to add a funny note to this serious subject.
My husband is sometimes hurt by the fact that our 17 month old daughter always wants mommy first and daddy second. My mom said to him the other day, "Don't worry, when she's an adult, everything her mom's says will get on her nerves and she'll think you can do no wrong".
That made me laugh and my husband feel better.
My mom and I are very close, but we do have our battles.
She lives across the country and to quote someone I can't remember it's like I can't wait for her to come visit, can't wait, can't wait and as soon as she gets her, she's on my nerves.
Posted by: Stephanie | May 27, 2008 at 08:31 PM
Excellent post.
There were many things that resonated, but the one the two that really grabbed me were these:
"Recognize that as your child becomes independent she needs you less, but when she does, she may startle you by turning into the ten-year-old you had almost forgotten about. Unnerved as you may be, when you hear that desperate cry, drop everything. It’s been said that soldiers call for their mothers in the heat of battle. It’s primitive."
Several of my issues with my mom boil down to that primitive need for her, and her tendency to fail me in those moments. Her tendency to NOT be there when I need her, making those times when I want and need to cry out for my mom difficult because I just don't know that she'll be there.
And then this one:
"With all my instructions about holding back, mothering with a light hand, being positive and rarely interfering, I have always told my children that I reserve the right to pull them back if I see a Mack Truck coming their way. I get to judge whether or not it’s a truck"
I loved that.
Posted by: Mandy | May 27, 2008 at 08:45 PM
This was a really fabulous post--I hope I can really apply it as my little ones grow into not so little ones.
My relationship with my mom has been up and down over the years, but since I went to college has only improved--bumps up when I married a great guy and had kids. We have had our moments, mostly because she wants me to have close relationships with family members with whom I have very little in common. Eh, it blows over eventually.
This really resonated with me:
"You have only one Mother, but there can be multiple motherly influences."
I agree. Regardless of where my relationship with my mom has been on the curve, she is my Mother. My only one. The greatest thing I can say about my stepmom (and she has been a treasured friend and confidant over the years) is that she never, ever expected me to call her Mom. And conversely, my MIL, who is overall a good one and really respectful of my parenting and my rules with the kids, wants me to call her Mom and I...just can't. As nice as our relationship is, she's not my mom--she's my husband's mom. Thank goodness for the kids--now I call her what they do.
And I do take lots of parenting lessons from all kinds of role models. I'm open to anything that might cut down on the yelling :-)
Posted by: Kate | May 27, 2008 at 08:57 PM
Wow. I just realized I posted first and completely bypassed any reflection of my own mother and me. Most likely because our relationship was non-existent. I'm constantly trying to undo the damage the lack of a motherly figure had on my growing up, as evident in the fact that I instantly translated it to my own mothering skills.
I don't want my kids to ever feel that void.
Posted by: Sarah | May 27, 2008 at 09:14 PM
It's hard not to feel envious of those of you, like Hedra, who are lucky enough to have such a emotionally nourishing situation.
Like many of the other PPers, my mother suffers from a mental illness which makes boundaries very difficult to negotiate.
The very best thing I have ever done for myself is get into therapy. This year I've learned how to list for "pure message" and to get past the poor communication skills which always make me bristle. It also taught me that it is NORMAL (love that word) for me to want to put my husband and my needs first, as well as those of our child's.
Some of the comments here about grandparenting according to an imagined relationship have really resonated with me. My mother continues to morn the fact that our adult relationship is not what she imagined it would be and, by extension, also mourns that she is not grandparenting in the way that she wishes to.
Not succumbing to the guilt associated with this and just knowing that I know what is best for my child and my family (and myself!) has been a real journey that I'm sure isn't done yet.
Another big blowout is coming - the fact that although we can do sleepovers at each other's houses, we don't feel comfortable leaving our 3 year old overnight alone with them yet. They keep telling me "Go on a holiday or something, we want alone time." They're hurt that we haven't done this yet and can't understand that we aren't jumping at the chance to take off and leave them to it. Sometime I think we're in the wrong, but I know I'm just not ready yet. We can leave them to babysit, catch a move, take off for the day, whatever, but that overnight just doesn't feel good yet. And somehow that makes me an evil person who doesn't want my child to have a relationship with anyone other than me and her father.
I don't know. It all just hurts, but the therapy is helping. Someone told me that as a woman the 30s are all about negotiating your adult relationship with your parents. I think they were right.
Posted by: Melanie | May 27, 2008 at 09:16 PM
It's hard not to feel envious of those of you, like Hedra, who are lucky enough to have such a emotionally nourishing situation.
Like many of the other PPers, my mother suffers from a mental illness which makes boundaries very difficult to negotiate.
The very best thing I have ever done for myself is get into therapy. This year I've learned how to list for "pure message" and to get past the poor communication skills which always make me bristle. It also taught me that it is NORMAL (love that word) for me to want to put my husband and my needs first, as well as those of our child's.
Some of the comments here about grandparenting according to an imagined relationship have really resonated with me. My mother continues to morn the fact that our adult relationship is not what she imagined it would be and, by extension, also mourns that she is not grandparenting in the way that she wishes to.
Not succumbing to the guilt associated with this and just knowing that I know what is best for my child and my family (and myself!) has been a real journey that I'm sure isn't done yet.
Another big blowout is coming - the fact that although we can do sleepovers at each other's houses, we don't feel comfortable leaving our 3 year old overnight alone with them yet. They keep telling me "Go on a holiday or something, we want alone time." They're hurt that we haven't done this yet and can't understand that we aren't jumping at the chance to take off and leave them to it. Sometime I think we're in the wrong, but I know I'm just not ready yet. We can leave them to babysit, catch a move, take off for the day, whatever, but that overnight just doesn't feel good yet. And somehow that makes me an evil person who doesn't want my child to have a relationship with anyone other than me and her father.
I don't know. It all just hurts, but the therapy is helping. Someone told me that as a woman the 30s are all about negotiating your adult relationship with your parents. I think they were right.
Posted by: Melanie | May 27, 2008 at 09:16 PM
It's hard not to feel envious of those of you, like Hedra, who are lucky enough to have such a emotionally nourishing situation.
Like many of the other PPers, my mother suffers from a mental illness which makes boundaries very difficult to negotiate.
The very best thing I have ever done for myself is get into therapy. This year I've learned how to list for "pure message" and to get past the poor communication skills which always make me bristle. It also taught me that it is NORMAL (love that word) for me to want to put my husband and my needs first, as well as those of our child's.
Some of the comments here about grandparenting according to an imagined relationship have really resonated with me. My mother continues to morn the fact that our adult relationship is not what she imagined it would be and, by extension, also mourns that she is not grandparenting in the way that she wishes to.
Not succumbing to the guilt associated with this and just knowing that I know what is best for my child and my family (and myself!) has been a real journey that I'm sure isn't done yet.
Another big blowout is coming - the fact that although we can do sleepovers at each other's houses, we don't feel comfortable leaving our 3 year old overnight alone with them yet. They keep telling me "Go on a holiday or something, we want alone time." They're hurt that we haven't done this yet and can't understand that we aren't jumping at the chance to take off and leave them to it. Sometime I think we're in the wrong, but I know I'm just not ready yet. We can leave them to babysit, catch a move, take off for the day, whatever, but that overnight just doesn't feel good yet. And somehow that makes me an evil person who doesn't want my child to have a relationship with anyone other than me and her father.
I don't know. It all just hurts, but the therapy is helping. Someone told me that as a woman the 30s are all about negotiating your adult relationship with your parents. I think they were right.
Posted by: Melanie | May 27, 2008 at 09:46 PM
Oops, double post and full of typos at that!
Posted by: Melanie | May 27, 2008 at 09:49 PM
Thank you, Num-Num and Hedra. I cried as I read this post, as I'm sure I will throughout the week. I no longer have that guiding hand on my back- my mother died suddenly just before I turned 18. Since having my son (who will celebrate his first birthday in a week and a half), I have missed her tremendously; we had an incredible relationship even through my teen years and I could not have asked for better.
Every brick that is placed in the wall building toward my son's independence affects me in a way I could not have imagined. I feel a hurt so deep it's like losing a part of me again and again. Thank you Hedra, for putting this in a different perspective for me...it's not a wall of separation but a wall of foundation. That seems easier to deal with.
@MariaWood- I would love to know what the Mother Loss Handbook is. Feel free to e-mail me at bethiebritt@gmail.com.
Posted by: Beth | May 27, 2008 at 09:50 PM
Today I'm finding blogging hard because there's so much more to a person's story than can or should be posted.
With that in mind, after re-reading my response to Hedra I wanted to mention 2 things.
My mom is an amazingly strong woman who has been through a lot in her life and I know you can't tell that from my post, and I do love her.
And most important my mom had severe PPD, which is why she tried to suffocate my sister. There was no support for PPD back then and I don't know if it even had a name 47 years ago.
I forgot to acknowledge that fact and that was disrespectful, sorry mom!
Posted by: sharon aka mommie mentor | May 27, 2008 at 10:09 PM
@Jan- "I hate that she can't figure out that she can be supportive even when I don't need rescuing" Yes! I feel like I need to tell her my arm fell off to get her to come over when I just need a break. When she did come over to help out it was on her watch. She could fit me in between lunch with her sister (she sees 3 times a week) and bible study- so what if it's during naptime and I just need to rest.Grrrrrrrr.I understand she doesn't help me (unless I spell out a dire need) because no one helped her (and she really could've used it with 3 in diapers). What bothers me is she won't even admit she ever needed help. As a mother I just KNOW this isn't true. We all need help, whether we ask for it or not.It really is a primal thing to want your mom. Even when our relationship was at its worst I knew I needed her.
@Cathy- How wonderful he had/has you.
Posted by: rowan+keaton+mama | May 27, 2008 at 10:23 PM
This week is going to be great, especially if the comments on this post are an indicator.
I love the strength here. And the willingness to be vulnerable.
My relationship with my mother got much better after a lot of therapy and letter her just be an adult with flaws. I know there was a comment that thinking like that is a mistake, but it allowed me to release expectations, which for me was needed. My mother was never going to change and be nurturing in the way that I wanted her to be.
The idea behind "I will always love you more than you love me" is so deep and obvious but something I would never have articulated. It *really* explains my father in ways I wouldn't quite have managed. And of course it means so much because every day I appreciate how deep parental love is. My pregnancy was planned (and I never wanted to have kids) - having said that, now that I do, some days I want 20 because my one son is so wonderful. Even when he was first born (I had a bit of PPD) it wasn't the magic it is now at 14 months. I'm growing into being a mother, at 43.
My mother definitely makes the offhand comments, but mostly now when they're about DS I explain why I'm doing things so that she'll understand and be in on it, but not in a way that allows her to have decision making power. And that works for her. If I just treat her with respect and talk about it. Don't get me wrong, when those comments are about me I'm not always calm or polite. I've told her where to put it in no uncertain terms. I think she has always been more comfortable with my brother and his family because they were less "weird" than I was, their politics were the same, and my brother has lived in an expected manor. She's become more comfortable with me the more predictable I am. (I don't mean that in a bizarre way, but I didn't marry in my 20's, I travelled a lot, I did my own thing and was single until my late 30's).
In any case, I love all the comments. I cry when I think about my son growing up and having his own life - because I will miss him and because I hope I can provide a good groundwork for him as an adult.
Posted by: rebecca | May 28, 2008 at 04:30 AM
@Rowan+Keaton Mama, I have some kids who are independent and self-sufficient and don't 'need' me so much. And I have to remember that the fact that they don't cry out in need doesn't mean they deserve less attention (I at least am aware of this issue, which my mom was not so good at attending to). I was that kid, too, to a degree - certainly the more intense the need, the LESS I made clear that I needed. Both my parents (bio) have noted to me that the more hurt I was, the more I retreated. Pursuit by them to comfort was met with resistance and growling from me, and so they learned to not bother me when I was licking my wounds - they accepted the boundary I set but didn't recognize it was a boundary on their style of attempt. It was really that I just needed companionship, not 'help'. They'd try to help or fix or actively comfort, rather than just sit and be with me while I worked it through. It wasn't togetherness they offered, it was assistance, and assistance made me feel weak and afraid (as they had rightly noted). They didn't get the concept of *just be together* reliably. My mom did seem to note something lacking, and would try again in different ways, but didn't really figure it out - she felt sometimes she was forcing it on me, so she kept back. And there were times that her decision to stay back out of my way was perfect. It was only when there was a miss that it hurt.
That's one of my greater fears as a parent - that somehow I will just not understand my child. I have a relative who didn't understand one of his kids AT ALL - and knew it, from early childhood. It's wrenching, a constant loss. On both sides.
One of my children needs (I think) mainly to be watched - to have my eyes accompany her. At times she'll accompany me. But I (modeling my mom automatically) hesitate to join in with her in her activities. Heck, I hesitate to join in with any of them on most things - applaud, yes, and participate on things I am leading them on, watch and smile, but... not so good at sitting down and coloring (I always took that as competition when my mom did it - she was better than me). We do cook together, and garden together, but ... well, those are activities they ask to join, rather than me asking to join them.
Something for me to work on, there. Thanks.
Posted by: hedra | May 28, 2008 at 04:58 AM
@Sharon, my grandmother had many reasons to not function, as well. I don't know why she tore up her roots and drove from NY to CA in 1914 (with her little sister, just the two of them alone, her just 20). What were they escaping? The family myth is that it was a grand adventure, but given who they each married, and how they each lived, there was something wrong there. And my grandfather was undiagnosed as Aspergers until he was in his 90's. It wasn't a good life. I am betting my grandmother had PPD, anxiety, and a lot of other treatable issues... but we can't ask, as she died when my mom was 6. Step-grandmother lightly filled the void - too lightly. She held herself back from being loved, certain that nobody could fill the space of Mother after Mother died. Yet she was better at it than her predecessor. Bad, but better. She only consented to be loved in the six months before she died, when my mother asked her to please step into that space before it was too late. So, yeah, issues upon issues there. And with reason, I'm sure. Everyone has a story.
I am usually glad that my grandmother died before she did more harm. But stories like yours make me wonder if there might not have been a chance at redemption, and that makes it sad that there was no chance for it at all, for her. Fortunately, my mom took that chance for herself, instead.
Posted by: hedra | May 28, 2008 at 05:19 AM
Num-Num distinguished between those who love mothering and those who feel overburdened by it. How's that for a taboo topic: Some women don't love to be mothers. Can we talk about *that* sometime? I tend to think there's not such a bright line. That many of us, in some times or some ways, don't like this job at all. While loving it in other ways or times. And loving our kids. But the "not loving it" is underground and hidden and bad, and what do we do with that part?
Posted by: caro | May 28, 2008 at 10:25 AM
I agree, not a bright line.
So far, I've just embraced the not liking parts. It lets me speak it more easily to others. (seriously, can maternity leave just start at 6 months old?)
Posted by: hedra | May 28, 2008 at 12:21 PM
@hedra, that's a profound fear, of not understanding a child--it very much happened in my birth family. I was someone who, even if my parents weren't always pleased with me, they had some idea what my deal was. My sister, not. at. all. It's horrible for all of them to this day (she's 34). It's one of the reasons I have a very specific gratitude that Mouse is a child that seems to "fit" us relatively easily--I hoped I'd be able to do better, and be more conscious, than my parents with a child who didn't, but I didn't know. I still don't--I just feel relieved that so far, we seem to be alike enough that at least one of us has some emotional reference for most of her ways. I think a wild card like that is a huge challenge, and especially one where it would be great to have an extended family (which hopefully contains some additional variety of people) that is supportive and present.
Posted by: Charisse | May 28, 2008 at 01:20 PM
My daughter retreats too. Not every time, but when she is really feeling out of control she wants to be alone. She started at around 2 years old to run AWAY from me when tantruming; slamming doors (I thought I had at least another 10 years before I had to deal with that!), wailing "leave me aloooooone!".
Because I was a child longing for connection with parents with limited capacities for it, I cannot relate at all to her need to work it out on her own. In my psyche, ANY time anyone is willing to talk to you, be with you, comfort you, you take it - cause you don't know when the next chance will come. Because my daughter has lived with 'attachment parenting' and probably overattentive parenting, she doesn't have the same kind of hunger I do (to this day, btw).
I worry about her isolating tendencies, the trust issues she's already evidencing (are they part of normal development? Or pathological as a result of the complicated situation she was born into?), and what happens when she's a teenager and slamming doors wanting to be alone.
I know that just being with her is probably the right answer. It's really hard for me to do, and often when she's at that point of upset she doesn't even want me in the same room with her. Leave the door open and hover outside? Insist on sitting quietly near her? I don't know.
Posted by: Maria Wood | May 28, 2008 at 01:23 PM
@Maria Wood, I think it was either Parent Effectiveness Training or Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves that talked about the children that need you to just wait. Be silent, and wait. I think you've got a variation on that - wait, and THEN be with.
I have one who needs me to wait. R. Her time period for her emotions is long. She has to be in them, steeped and soaking, to feel them. (This may actually be a sensory issue - it takes a while for her to register some sensations from her body, so she may actually have a physical delay in registering her feelings. Oh. Wait. I was the reverse. Maybe I fled in part because I felt things so much and picked up so much from others that I could not bear to feel anyone else's feelings along with mine. Hmm. Hence the just being with, without emotion, judgement, help. Yep, that definitely clicks.). Anyway, with R, I have to wait. I have to let her feel, be in her feelings, REALLY stew in those juices, before she is ready to be done with them.
This causes some friction with her twin sister, who ... wait, she's changed. For a long time, she was in and out of her feelings like lightning. But, hey, part of my frustration with her lately has been that she WILL NOT STOP when she gets into a feeling. Which is actually a change. So, huh. Now I have two who need to be in their feelings (they swap personalities, I swear! Now I'm wondering if I'll see R flipping in and out of feelings in series...).
The first book I mentioned (P.E.T.) is my favorite of the two, but the second (on raising ourselves) has some good methods (even if they're a bit heavy-handed on the 'your child will turn to drugs if you don't do this part just right' thing). The SALVE method is adaptable, and sometimes just needs to be applied later. And in some forms, it comes in the form of a sympathetic look, an understanding nod. And other times still the words are a violation, and the need is to just be. Be allowed to feel the feeling, be allowed to not have it eased away, treated gently, or cuddled until it vanishes in both its power and its danger. I think that probably plays a role in there with me, too. Comforting me before I was DONE with my feelings was worse than not being comforted at all. It was emotional theft, a taking away of my passion and power. I do remember my mom reveling in my fury, her eyes alight at my rage, but that was when I was younger, and she had less complicated feelings about my feelings (pre-divorce, I suspect).
Not sure if that gives you anything useful to work with. But it gave ME something useful to work with! :)
Posted by: hedra | May 28, 2008 at 01:45 PM
Erna Furman, a famous child psychoanalyst, once said the following:
"A mother's job is to be there to be left."
Posted by: Jamie | May 29, 2008 at 12:10 AM
What a post!
I am saving this one to read again over and over as the girl grows up. This is the kind of mother I want to be, but I know I'm going to need to be reminded during the course of her life.
What resonates? I think having to step back and letting her step forward into her life so she can try it out. Not challenging her decisions.
Posted by: Chabelamarie | May 29, 2008 at 12:28 PM
Following on fron enu's comment that "I knew that if she knew I could *not* figure this out, she'd have helped. So I must be *able* to figure it out. And if I figured it out wrong, I also knew that I'd either figure it out again, or survive the catastrophe, or she'd backstop me if it became a total emergency."
What do you do when the child in question doesn't want this?
I have two lovely stepchildren, whom I see a lot (it's about a 40-60 split between our house and their mom's). I am sure I make mistakes with this parenting stuff, but I do at least believe that my job is to teach them what they need to be grown-ups, while being there to catch them if they stumble. But the oldest (now 15) categorically does NOT want this. When I explain why it is I'm letting her work through things on her own, she sees it as me neglecting my responsibility.
So -- what do you do with a teenager who refuses responsibility, but still wants all the freedom that goes with being 15? Does this fall under "parenting adult children"?
Posted by: Katherine | May 31, 2008 at 05:56 PM
@Katherine, I think that was mine, not enu's... and does it help to know that at the time, I DID NOT WANT THAT? I wanted her to help. I didn't like that she'd said it was hard for her to not help, I was HURTING, and she was my mom, and ...
But I still felt stronger. And I still knew (though would not have admitted - and didn't for about two years) that I felt better knowing she trusted me, stronger, and that I still knew I could trust *her*.
At fifteen, I didn't want that. I wanted to be a grownup without having to be responsible for myself. I wanted to have the freedom (actually more freedom than adults actually have, but the freedom I *thought* they had), but not the requirements that come with freedom. I wanted to walk down the middle of the road, and never get hit by the cars.
At 15, I was still running back and forth (frantically) between being 16, and being about 2 years old. I was full of tantrums, emotionally overwrought outbursts, despair, insight, flashes of maturity, clingy desperation to be carried everywhere, terror of being apart and alone and separate, driven to run in any direction but the one my mom chose, etc.
It is probably not an accident that when my second daughter was born (five minutes after her twin sister), it took maybe two minutes for my mom to comment (from her spot against the wall of the ER), 'oh, my. Two fifteen year old girls *at the same time*...' I was kind of grouchy about that (can I not just enjoy them NOW?) but ... well, yeah. Fifteen year old girls aren't fun. Worse probably as step-kids.
Posted by: hedra | June 02, 2008 at 01:24 PM
Funny, I have had the opposite problem. My adult children (none are parents yet) have called me controlling. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
You know what I tried to control? Their involvement in MY marriage and totally unacceptable behavior. I felt both were old enough, to "know better" to use the situation to their advantage. Or to try and "overtake" mom's place in my marriage, irregardless of the permissive encouragement by their own father.
Their fathers ridicoulous permissiveness, and chaos making behavior destroyed our relationship, with both older girls.
This is their father, not a step. We, he and I, had some very rocky years from the time our children were young teens. He was in his second childhood at the time, and being absent during much of their early years decided to sit an atmosphere in the home, totally foreign to good parenting. He had bones to pick with me and made them "chose" by overindulgence and permissiveness. Bad time.
His parenting is excessively permissive...he doesn't/didn't believe in consequences, spoils unbelievably (whatever, and I mean whatever they wanted or however they chose to act, mostly towards me,) and since his retirement, was running a popularity contest with his children, often making them "chose" which parent they liked best. My parenting style was totally the opposite.
I loved my children dearly was very hands on when they were small, (he was an absentee father due to overwork) and felt the teen years was a learning experience with BOUNDRIES, as to behavior, age approriate activities, and would tolerate NO disrespect or "cussing" towards the parents, he called their "cussing fits" "venting" and thought I should allow it, WHAT????????
He was going through a "reversion" of his own maturity, and unfortunately over identified with their "breaking away" and relived his bad teen experiences with them, and of course I (wanting any respect or order etc) was the "enemy".
He allied with my two oldest to enforce the "anything goes" chaos of this time. Our counselor tried to tell him the heiarchy was upside down but NOTHING penetrated his "child brain at the time" and it was a horrible enviroment to try and raise anyone.
As you can imagine this caused much conflict with our relationship and with our children, especially the closer to "adult" they became. He also wanted the "company" and so allowed them to "sit the nest" as long as they wanted and basically gave them control over both of us.
If I tried to stop this total nonsense, I got "punshied" or was left out entirely as he ran his "popularity" contest.
Needless to say when I informed the oldest at almost 27, a college grad it was time to think about moving out and into REAL adulthood, and after she "covered" for Dad who when told to go by me, (couldn't take his overgrown teenage years anymore) he went to our apt out back where oldest lived, and "hid" out there.
She came in looking for "magizines for him", and basically lied about him even being on the premisses." He later moved in with her in a house across town. This totally turned my stomach, that he could NOT allow his children to "grow up" without following her and they two of them sit up house together.
I had never seen anything so "sick" in my life, though I do not think it was sexual, but nonetheless "twisted" and all boundries down and beyond repair.
Naturally this caused a real family split, as the two youngest got somewhat lost in this shuffle, and two of my oldest daughters and I STILL have somewhat strained relationships.
I am STILL trying to figure out how to deal with all of this happening. Husband still lives here (long story) mostly for convience........as I feel almost nothing for someone who could cause so much heartache from such "childish" behavior.
Counseling did not help, as he was sooo blocked from seeing his part in any of this.
Everyday I am saddened by the huge damage caused between the mother daughter relationship due to this period of our lives. I harbor great resentment and hurt from the older girls behavior, the "living arrangements" so "sick" to me that they shared while I struggled to raise the two youngest with an absentee father, who just happened to seem to prefer and lived with my oldest.
I don't think I will ever get over the total family damage done by such an imature man. I worry how our youngest is going to be "put in the middle" as she enters the teen years.
I think he "learned" better that somewhat a "united" front is essential, but KNOW he is still geared to "popularity rather than parenting".
The point, "be careful overly judging a mothers "mental state" or her actions, as often there are things that adult children (with or without children) don't know"
Crazy behavior often has a "crazy making" source. Imagine, your mothers being you in a few years Mothers are human, have feelings, dreams and hopes STILL. They are learning as they go, and many things are somewhat beyond their control to "fix".
Try to be loving, not too judgemental, and do so with the boundries of love, not resentment, jealousy, or a need to "turn the tables" and control mom. Nothing hurts a mother more than to be treated, unimportant, or senile before her time.
It is NOT the time to settle "old scores". My two oldest were always unbelievably strong willed, in constant challenge to my rightful role as mother/wife, and to this day there are some issues.......that I find totally unnecessary and disrespectful towards me, and no the ONLY thing I wish to control is my own life, and how the people I interact with treat me with courtesy and respect, and love.
Maybe instead of laying all blame on mothers, sometimes the fathers behavior deserve a glance.
Food for thought.
Posted by: Mitzy | March 31, 2009 at 08:18 AM
I’m a long time watcher and I just believed I’d drop by and say hello there for your very first time.
Posted by: proxy list | January 01, 2012 at 04:02 AM