I remember when I was growing up my mom cried a lot after one of us kids did something to make her mad. I first witnessed it with my mom and sis in her teenage years and then one day my sister moved out and it was just me and my brother (and of course my dad) to make my mom cry. My brother was a boy and did not always make the best decisions in life back then...this made my mom cry. After seeing all the things they did I vowed that I wasn't going to be that awful yet still even I made my mom cry.
We were all bad in different ways and even though my things I chose to do were more subtle, they still broke my mother's heart at times. Perhaps it wasn't always the actions but the words we used because we knew it would hurt her and we as kids want to feel like we know more than our parents. We would never make the same mistakes our parents made and we rolled our eyes or said bad things under our breath.
Back when I was growing up I was genuinely scared of my parents and even though my dad was the main person I was scared of (perhaps it had to do with that back in the day leather belt) I was also scared of my mom, though I never showed it or at least tried not to.
I remember when I was about 9 and my mother was having an awful week...Grandma Jean just passed and my mother was grieving for her mother. This did not matter to me though and I continued to be a little brat. My mom asked me to go get the belt and I refused-heck no was I going to go get that belt and hand it over so she could smack me! So she went and got the belt. Lucky for me my mom loves to arrange furniture and she arranged our couch so it was in the middle of the room. She came out and chased me until she gave up...but that's not the end of the story! I had this little white doll with blonde hair that I called Amanda and I carried her everywhere, she was my baby! Amanda happened to be on the couch that day and since my mom could not catch me...Amanda was the next best thing! She got that belt and whooped my baby doll Amanda so bad and her little plastic eyes kept opening and closing. I remember screaming..."MY BABY...YOU'RE KILLING MY BABY! I AM GOING TO TELL MY DADDY! My mom stopped and I took my doll and went to my room. It's a good thing that doll took the beating for me that day. Mom and I still laugh about this now and now I have no idea what even happened to that little doll!
Now I have kids of my own and though they have not tried to do some of the things my siblings and I got away with, I have found that now as a mother, their mother, I like my mom did so long ago cry at times. Kids don't realize how much they break our hearts with actions and words. Even the littlest kids can make us feel so incompetent and awful and they're not even trying. We beat ourselves up over how we could have done things differently to have raised them better or we find ourselves saying..."IF ONLY and blame ourselves for what they do from the time they are born to the day we die.
Lately I have found that my kids are getting the best of me and I cry and pray and try to help but after a while I know that I am doing the best I can. One day they will be parents and realize that there was some truth to things I told them and understand that everything we do or say to them or for them was for their own good. Until then I will just hope that they turn out ok like me and my siblings did.
Thanks Mom for caring and loving us...I love you and miss you.
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