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I know I’m the adult here but…really?!

Dear Loch,

You wrote a song recently. Your Dad was away for the weekend and we had his car so you were right beside me when you started singing. The song went like this:

I love my Mom. I love my Mom. I love my Mom. But I love my Dad more.

I was in the middle of saying, “Oh, honey I love this song…” when that last line came and I felt as if I’d been doused in water.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now. I know you love me. You need me for chats and fears and snuggles and hurts but, for the last six months I’ve played second fiddle to anything your Dad. I get it. Your Dad works a lot. He’s busy. You don’t get to spend as much time with him, so your time together is special. Combine that with the fact that he’s 100% yours when he is around – full of exciting role playing games, outdoor adventures and full fledged wrestling matches – and your Dad’s a God. He doesn’t drag you around doing errands. He defeats giant underground worms, builds forts that take up entire rooms and fashions elaborate creations out of legos. Your Dad’s the man. I’m just the Mom.

photo 2In contrast to the rare and special times the two of you spend together, you see me every single day. Intellectually I can comprehend why you’re sick of me. I’m old news. It’s natural to take the thing you’re most confident in for granted. I suppose I should take it as a sign I’ve done something right. But, it’s hard not to feel under appreciated and, if I’m being honest, hurt.

Your Dad and I have different strengths. He’s able to meet your childhood energy and I’m not. He’s available for brief stints and I’m around all the time. He does the fun stuff, I do the necessary stuff and we’re both well suited to our jobs. When it comes right down to it, he’s dessert and I’m the vegetable, and we all know how kids feel about their vegetables. You don’t care that I spent two years inundated with essays and applications to get you in to just the right school. It doesn’t register with you that I buy all the presents or ensure the house never runs out of food or toilet paper. You’re not interested in who makes your bed or buys your clothes. You’re aware that people like you but not how much of that is due to the fact that we’ve worked so hard together  on your manners and attitude. Your Daddy is the shining star and I have bad breath in the morning. You once told me, “Daddy is the King. I’m the Prince, and you’re the maid.” I asked you to leave my room.

I'm a bit of a background player in your life these days.

I’m a bit of a background player in your life these days.

Being taken for granted, marginalized or discredited hurts no matter who does it. I know I’m the adult. I realize I should have the capacity to rise above my sore feelings. For goodness sakes you’re five and I’m the one who needs to grow up! But when you tell me after a three hour playdate at a friend’s house it would’ve been more fun if I wasn’t there, or I ask if you had a good time at the Aquarium and you tell me it would have been better if I was Daddy, I want to cry. I also want to scream, “You know what kid? I had other things to do today too you know! It would have been better for me if Daddy was there too!” Of course I’m happy doing things with you. I love spending time together. I know you’re starting Kindergarden is the beginning of the end of our extended one-on-one relationship, and I’m thrilled I was able to be there for so much of it, but I was a fully realized person before you were born and as much as I’m honored to have played such a big part in your childhood, I put a lot of myself on hold to do it, and your complete dismissal of my contribution makes me sad.

photo 1 copyI’m sensitive. You say hurtful things and I get hurt. My face gets screwed up. I look at you and say, “that was mean” or “Loch, how d’you think your saying that makes me feel?” I suppose it’s better you learn from me how much words can hurt rather than discovering it after you say something thoughtless to a friend, but it doesn’t make it feel any better. You’ve actually taken to apologizing lately without any prompting. It’s as if you’ve learned to recognize from my reactive body language that you’ve done something unkind. This summer when we were walking around Disney you said,  “I like you this much (indicating a bench mark with your hand) and I like Daddy this much (indicating a higher mark). Sometimes you’re here (meeting Dad’s high level) but most of the time you’re here (back to my original lower position)”. You followed that comment directly with a quick “Sorry Mommy. Sorry, sorry. I love you both the same!” but I got your message. At this point I’ve learned to bite my tongue and say something like “I understand Loch. Your Dad is very special and you love him very much”, but that doesn’t mean I don’t do it with a big sigh in my heart.

photo copy 2The reality is you appreciate things more when you don’t have them all the time (that, and your Dad rocks) but it’s hard for me to think of the future without worrying if I’ll be around or not, and when you say things like you wish you wasn’t here, it breaks my heart. Sometimes all I can hear when you say that sort of things is, “Well, you might get your wish…” and that scares me. As I said when I started this whole process, I want to be around as long as I can and I hope you always feel confident enough to take my presence for granted, but it’s something I can’t guarantee. Recently I wasn’t feeling very well and you were so mean to me. I couldn’t do anything right. It was as if you were punishing me for being sick. It made you mad. I’m sure what you were really feeling was nervous, but anger was your way of processing the fear.

I understand as annoying as this behavior is, it’s also very normal. I’m a grown woman and I know my parents would still love it if I called them more. I have to remind myself constantly to make sure I actively acknowledge how much I appreciate your Dad. It’s all too easy to take those we count on most and love the deepest for granted. I don’t take care of you for credit. It just stings to be discredited. But I’ll take that feeling any day over the alternative. I’d rather you not know what you have than be aware of what you’re missing.

So go ahead. Dole it out. I can take it. I know you love me and, no matter where life takes us, I hope you always know that I love you.

xoxo Mommy

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7 Comments Post a comment
  1. This reminds me how it seems that in situations of divorce, kids often favor the parent they DON’T live with, because they miss that parent and that parent is the “fun” parent. I see that you understand that and I’m sorry it doesn’t ease the pain. I hope your little man learns to appreciate his mommy soon. It’s a slow lesson for some people, but with your guidance and that of your husband I’m sure he’s on the right track.

    And sorry I missed you at Disney! I work there, but I’m always looking at the ground so I miss all the cool people. Walked right by John Stamos and didn’t even notice. /sigh

    October 21, 2013
    • First of all Chuck you have the coolest name. Chuck Chuckerson? I love it. How unique. As far as my baby, I know he loves me. I still get cuddles and I love you’s all the time, but you’re right about it being hard when you aren’t the “fun” one. I recently told my husband to please talk me up to Loch when they’re together so he’s reminded he has more than one cool parent. He assured me he already does this. Phew. Ebbs and flows right? I’m just hanging on!
      Sorry we missed you at Disney too! We’re season pass holders though…maybe we can see you again?
      xo leigh

      October 21, 2013
  2. Leigh!!! Another insightful, honest, brave post. Right to the gut. So much love to you- you are such an amazing person and I’m so happy to know you and call you a friend. xx

    October 21, 2013
  3. Margot #

    WOW….another excellent and heart felt post. Leigh….you always seem to hit the nail right on the head! I think this post can be adapted to any family….and not just ones with children. It reminds us to not take what we have the closest to us for granted. I think most of us have certainly fallen into that trap at one point or another in a family relationship. Thank you for your wise insight. You touch me more than you know.

    October 22, 2013
  4. Reading your post, I took a trip through my own childhood and remembered some harsh, unkind things I’d said to my mother in those days. I think — when you’re a kid, and you’ve not yet experienced an adult perspective, you’ve only heard the opinions and reactions of adults — you tend to speak without a firm understanding of the weight of your words.

    I remember my mom bringing home some new clothes she’d just bought and trying them on for us. She asked me how I liked this one particular outfit, and I flat-out said I didn’t like it. She cried… I made my momma cry! I felt like DIRT. I didn’t understand the complexity of emotions that go into someone asking for your opinion on their appearance. I wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings, and yet I now know that adults learn how to express criticism in ways that are less blunt when they care about someone.

    I also remember repeating things I’d heard my mother say to other people. Once, I overheard her on the phone with her mom (my grandmother) say, “You’re not my boss!” As a kid, I thought that was hilarious… I didn’t once consider whether this was a joke or whether my mom was seriously talking this way to her mother. A few days later, my mom told me to take out the trash. I replied, “You’re not my boss!” I still remember how hard I was slapped. I laugh about it, now, but I remember how betrayed I felt, at the time.

    Anyway, I say all this to show that sometimes kids are trying to hurt their parents the best way they know how — and they do this with words that they barely understand, and they seldom truly mean it even though they do want to hurt you. They don’t understand how deeply words can cut, because (hopefully) you’ve always chosen your words so carefully when talking with them. And, then again, sometimes kids are just “acting out” and they’re just firing words off willy-nilly and an adult in a vulnerable/sensitive mood might just get caught in the crossfire.

    I’m glad you handled all of this the way you did!

    October 22, 2013
  5. Wynn Everett #

    Oh man!!!! Tears again!!! So So beautiful and hilarious and heart wrenching! all things! Though we are not there yet because Asher is so little I bet there are 10 million moms that can relate to this post perfectly. You are such a fantastic writer and your blog is so awesome!!!! Love you guys so much! p.s we are expecting another little lady this March!!! Starting to tell friends now.  We are so excited.  We have to see you guys soon.  we are here through the Thanksgiving and Christmas – are you guys going to Canada?  Love you!

    October 22, 2013
  6. Oh Leigh – been there and still there – I have two boys now 13 and 15 -my husband and I both work full time. My husband worked at night and did the daycare during the day when the boys were young while I worked day shift – so the boys have always had both their father and mother – I tell you – their father rocks and I have felt hurt over the years – Loch may not show it and may say mean things but boys don’t think – that’s what I’ve learned – boys don’t think – he loves you as I know mine do! I’ve been blessed lately by both my boys to stop and hug me and tell me how much they love me for no reason – I think they’re getting it – Loch will too – hang in there!

    November 3, 2014

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