Parent & Friend

Conventional wisdom tells us that, in order to parent properly, we must strive to be our child's parent (that is, the authoritarian figure) rather than his friend. The reasoning being this being: a friend is someone we like and even respect, but not someone we obey. And we must have obedience, mustn't we? After 22 years of parenting, I wonder if this "wisdom" is actually wise at all.

I've been known to hold contrary viewpoints when it comes to marriage and children. I'm not in favor of date nights. I don't believe in putting my spouse before the children (it's not a competition!). I tend to question the neo-traditional ways of doing everything from home-birthing to homeschooling to refusing vaccinations and circumcision. So it shouldn't surprise anyone that I have concluded that it is OK to be my children's friend. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that it is essential.

I lost my own mother 10 years ago this month. I'd give nearly anything to be able to visit her or pick up the phone and talk. She was the person I went to with my good news and bad. She would listen to me talk about anything. She was interested in whatever was going on in my life. She knew me since before I was born and so what mattered to me, mattered to her. She was my mother, but she was my best friend. No one else cared like she did. No one else COULD. No one else shared so many memories and so much life with me - not my closest friend, not even my husband. No one was so intimately acquainted with me as she was. Her passing was a great loss to me.

As a mother myself, I am on the other side of that relationship. No one knows my children like I do. No one else but me remembers feeling them squirm and kick inside my body. I was the first to hold them in my arms and look into their eyes. I nursed them. I taught them. I loved them.

I don't have to assert any authority because my position as mother is in bedrock. The evidence is carved all over my body. The law (for the most part) upholds my rights to make decisions on their behalf and defers to me in matters of authority. I choose the curriculum. I buy the clothing. I make the meals and schedule the activities. I decide bedtime and snack time and set the chore schedule. No one denies that is my right and obligation as mother.

But "mother" is not somehow separate from "friend." They can and DO coexist. In fact, they must. For if I am only mother and not friend, then I am really just a boss, a master, an employer. Someone who tells them what to do and when regardless of how they feel.  But mothers kiss owies. Mothers rock children to sleep when they wake up from a bad dream. Mothers take care of their children when they are sick. Mothers change diapers and wipe bottoms and faces and use their sleeves to wipe noses. Try asking your boss or employer to do those things.

And "friend" is not somehow separate from "mother." Friends -- true friends -- will offer advice. They will encourage you to do the right thing, and discourage you from doing the wrong. They will call you out on bad behavior. They will tell you what you need to hear even if you don't want to hear it. They have your back in difficult times. They rejoice with you. They weep with you. They will listen without judgment. They will offer judgment and correction out of love. They will make time to be with you. If friends did not do these things, they would be, at best, acquaintances - people who know you and will chat with you when they see you, but won't invest in you.

Mothers . . . they are parent AND friend. The best of both worlds rolled into one. My children are my friends. I don't need to be worried about being too familiar and losing my authority. I don't need to demand obedience and forego friendship. There isn't a miracle that happens the moment they become an adult that suddenly changes the relationship from parent/child to friend. I don't have to wait 18 years to enjoy their company as my peer. And they never have to wonder if I will stop kissing owies or holding them close when they are afraid. I am Mom and I am the best friend they will ever have.

For some reason, we like to set up "either/or" scenarios and then pick a side and defend it. Maybe it's an innate trait in humans. Maybe there's some benefit in breaking things down into categories that I am missing here. I am surely wrong about many things and you can take what you want and leave the rest. You can leave it all. My choices aren't tied to what others think as much as they used to be. I'm not here to convince anyone else to live their life differently.

I am just going to keep loving and parenting and enjoying the wonderful gift that is being a mother. These children really are my closest friends. I will always be here to be both Mom and friend, whether they are 5 months old or 22 years old. There really isn't a difference.

My Once-every-three-years Post

Surprise! 

I once again forgot about this blog (I'm a terribly blogger) and found it. A link to it came up on my Facebook Memories feed. The last post was just weeks before our first boy was born. He ended up a week late and we named him Benedict Elias.  He's now 2 years, 7 months old. Oh, and he's a big brother too. Another boy come into our family four months ago. He's my third rainbow baby. He's also a Superbowl baby. He's got quite the story. His name is Tobias Eliot which means "God is good" because, you know, He is.

The kids are eating lunch. I just finished mine. Baby is in the swing and starting to fuss.

Let's see . . . since my last post, besides having more children, I've also ran for city council and won. (I was unopposed so don't be too impressed.) This will be my third year of a four-year term. I also ran for PCO for a second term.  Won that too. I was (briefly) the vice-chair of the county party but having baby, baby having feeding issues, a touch of postpartum depression, and the urging of my husband finally convinced me to step down.

So here I am. Still homeschooling. Still fighting for Liberty. Still making babies.

My oldest daughter now lives in Ohio. Don't ask why. That's a story for another day, probably three years from now when moving to Ohio seems like the least of the things to tell you about.

Baby is full-on crying now and since he's dealing with a bit of a head cold, I won't make him wait.

Maybe I'll think to post here more often. Lord knows it would be good for me to get some things written down, chew them over, share them with others.