There is no perfect parent

All of us will screw up our kids – no matter what we vow, or how hard we pray, there is no perfect mother and no perfect kid no matter what your insecurities tell you about the other mothers you see. The goal of motherhood is twofold; don’t drive yourself nuts striving for unattainable perfection, screw up our kids – and you will in some way - in ways that are different from your own nuttyness. If my kid is talking about the same issues that I have on the couch then I have failed as a parent – I have merely served as a conduit for past generations’ neuroses. If my child is bemoaning a different sort of angst while crying to a trained professional, then at least I have left a legacy all my own, having jumbled their psyche in novel and hopefully interesting ways that might even get a shrink published.

We cannot hold ourselves to an inhuman standard this will not make us strive to be better mothers; it just gives us more practice at self-flagellation. There is no perfect mother. Not one. No matter what “they” say or write or how many “I told you so’s you have to endure, this is your child and your motherhood so do it your way. There is no one right way to mother – there are a lot of wrong ways but sadly, no one, magic formula that will assure us of self confidence and kids who grow up to be people we consider good.

Now, this is not a license to foist all of your insecurities on the little tyke – this is your shot to save someone from those horrors and in the process hopefully save yourself too. Let your child know that they are loved beyond what you thought your heart was capable of, no matter how many times they say “I hate you” and in so doing, learn to love yourself and your capacity to do this. Of course a child’s angry remark hurts – but the ability to rise above that pain and love your offspring just the same is what makes a one a real parent.

Love them but do not smother them. Know that they have to reject us in order to become themselves and that holding us at arm’s length is part of the nasty individuation process. Odds are, they do not really hate us, they are simply trying not to be us which is a necessary evil on their way to becoming the ungrateful little snots that they will individuate into.

My little grunter – teenage boys go through this stage where they never utter a full sentence, thus his nick name – refuses all demonstrations of love which is frustrating because despite the mess of his room, the lack of full sentences I really do love the bugger. Eventhough he tests the depths of this love, I find it bottomless even when I am trying to speak rationally about an irrational proposition which involves him being entitled to: a. the car keys, b. more allowance c. less chores d. all of the above.

When my toddler refuses my hand and insists on tackling the stair case herself she is not rejecting me – she is challenging herself and, if I don’t want to be stuck wiping her butt when she is twenty I better let her wobble down the stairs herself – without ever leaving her side.

Both the toddler and the adolescent want the same thing – independence with strings attached. In a lot of ways, the goal of parenting is to make your job obsolete – although this is never so because the love of or approval from a mother is a blessing at any age – unless your kids really do hate you.

Remember, the only difference between a good parent and a bad one is that good parents only think of killing their children – bad parents actually do harm unto their kids. It’s alright to fantasize about sitting on their chests and covering their rotten mouths with electrical tape it is just bad to actual do it.

Breathe.. now, breathe again…. You are not crazy for loving and loathing this creature at the same time – you are simply a mom or a dad - contradictions are now a permanent part of your life.