Drinking the Haterade

I took a swig of the haterade while I was reading some posts on my facebook page this morning (see, this is why I shouldn’t even get on facebook). I had a fb friend post a link to a blog about mothering. Then I read, on that blog, her manifesto on parenting, and though I agree with her notions in general, she lost me at the part about gentle discipline. I can only assume, due to her overall tone, that she must be the parent of small children and is NOT in a blended family.

I believe, it’s easy to have these lofty goals and ideals about never spanking your kids , or, better yet, never  getting angry, when they are toddlers: sweet, tiny, adorable mini-people that seem to giggle more than pout and need you above all other things in this world.

Well, I used to live on that sunny and deluded plateau too. Then we got custody of his ten year old son.

Until that point, I too had been spinning circles on the grass like Maria from the Sound of Music. Then the boom sounded and the avalanche of pre-teen-dom erupted in my life and I have not seen that plateau since. I’d love to hear how she changes her tune when her kids start talking back, sarcastically and with intent.

I’d be especially interested to hear how she deals with the changes that come with the influence of the outside world.

Or will she just continue to bend to the wills of her children like a willow in the wind? If she has the patience of Job she will homeschool them, because letting children outside of your house, and letting them watch television just about kills any chance at unspoiled youth.

So yeah, I am straight hatin’ today.

I am hating on all these “mothers” in their sunny carefully tended worlds with their blessed “tinies” and how glorious it’s all going to be one day for them and their children. And I say “mothers” in the plural because for this one gal, there’s a hundred more just like her, basking in the glow of their kids that have not grown up yet and exerted their personalities.

I am barely hanging on to sanity, I don’t have room for loose parenting, going with the flow and all that.

Sure, that kind of talk is easy to follow when the biggest demands on your life are the demands of children under the age of seven. That kind of talk is easy when they are all small and the youngest aren’t vying equally for your undivided attention ALL THE TIME.

Somewhere around age 7, most children are in first/second grade, and then suddenly it seems that you have aliens in your house. At least it seemed that way for me. If I was a scientist, and my youngest two were an experiment, I would have had to call my theorems a wash in 2005 because at that point, an untested and unknown element was flung into my beaker and I have been dealing with the repercussions ever since. So yes, I am hating hard.

I didn’t ask for this life, not specifically or in words.

Hindsight has only served to show me that my current course was inevitable due to the actions leading up to my marriage. Had I had some kind of full disclosure that would have let me know that in the bargain of marriage and then soon to be impending motherhood I would not have improved my family connections any, that I would have had to forcefully distance myself and family from my future mother-in-law due to her irrational crazy,  and that my mothering would be forever tainted with the progeny of another who probably isn’t fit/worthy of the title that begins with an “M”… I would have run the other way and locked myself in a convent.

The Sound of Music is one of my all time favorite movies. I saw it for the first time when I was in Second Grade. It forever changed my life. When I was eleven, I wanted to join a convent just like Maria. Frankly, looking back on all what I would be missing, I wish my mother had said yes.

Here’s my rebuttal to the BS that I read today and just thoroughly set my teeth on edge…

First of all, I love my children, but I am scared to death that I am screwing them up for LIFE. I have no idea what the hell I am doing. I can’t blissfully absolve myself of the fact that if they are jacked up later in life as adults, I am partly to blame for that outcome. The product of my work is my children. It is my JOB to guide them through the muddle of life, because they arrive in our lives unknowing and hoping that we will guide them through. I don’t feel like crap if I get angry.

Secondly, peaceful resolution is for introverted sissies. If someone does something wrong, something that could have been avoided had careful thought gone into it prior to action being taken, I am not going to shrug my shoulders and turn the other cheek. I am not raising my children to be doormats of society.

SO on that note, if they do something wrong that could have been avoided had careful thought gone into prior to taking action, once I have ascertained that they are not injured, harmed in any way and mentally sound, I am going to let them know that it’s not okay. I am not going to shrug my shoulders and be like “Oh well”.

What the hell would they have learned if I take that stance? What kind of example am I setting? So, no, I’m not with her on her “gentle” way of life. Life is not gentle.

Thirdly, I love my step-son, but I am counting the moments when he moves on after graduation, for the sheer reason that I don’t think I am making a difference with him at all. I feel we are just going through the motions. He is doing what he thinks I want him to do only when he is around me so that I can feel appeased and stay off his back. I’m doing what I hope is best because I can sense that he is just putting on a show, but I still have to keep the song and dance going for the audience of two (age 11 &10) who are watching and documenting the whole play with microscopes.

So, no, I don’t have time to stop and smell the daisies, to let them set the pace, to take life as it comes a moment at a time. That kind of crap might happen on the Hallmark channel. I, however, don’t subscribe to premium cable…

So here’s to taking another drink of the haterade…and future swigs to come.