This Ones For My Mama

The other day I was pushing the Boodge on his swing in the backyard. We were having a rollicking good time. I was pretending to duck with an exaggerated "Whoa!" every time he swung towards me, which was sending him into hysterical giggles and me too, because what is a more joyful sound than your baby giggling? Suddenly, from the other side of the fence, I heard our neigbour interacting with his own child, a boy about 8 years old. (Names changed, of course).

"Brad, get off the lawn, you fucking idiot! Jesus, you do some stupid shit sometimes Brad!"

Giggling stopped. Moments passed while I felt my emotions turn to anger and sadness for that little boy. I imagined his little spirit, how it must shrivel when his dad talks to him that way. Then I heard this:

"Where's your brother? He's over there. Jesus--WATCH HIM! I am so sick of having to tell you the same fucking shit over and over and over!"

I looked at my little Boodge and tried to imagine talking to him that way. I hope I never do. I wondered how many times that boy across the fence will have to hear something like that before he starts to see himself as a stupid fucking idiot, before he fills with anger and starts treating other people the same way. I wanted to jump across the fence and lay into his dad.

I thought about it for hours, and am still thinking about it days later. When I told the story to my husband over dinner that night, I had gotten to the point in my thoughts where I said, "I'm trying not to judge his dad."

"Of course you should judge him!" Sean retorted angrily. And he's got a point. Of course we should speak out about people abusing their kids, emotionally, physically, mentally. The consequences are just too great. As a therapist and during my brief and miserable stint as as child-protection worker, I've seen too many of these kids and the incredible damage this treatment does. But when I worked in child protection I also saw that when a kid came to our attention, it was likely that in the file room you would find 3 or 4 volumes on that kid's mother or father or both, detailing the abuse in their own childhood. These things don't come out of nowhere, and that is what I meant when I said I was trying to to judge him. I was trying to understand where it came from.

I've said on this blog that I think all parents try to do the best they can for their children with the resources and knowledge they have at the time. But so much of our parenting resources and knowledge come from our own parents, and unknowingly we parent our children in the same way, or in reaction to it. If you grow up in abuse and neglect, that can easily feel like a natural way to treat your own kids. Not every person is able to see how their own childhood affected them, and is now affecting their children. If we are not blessed with a few different and positive examples in our environment, we may never see another way.

And seeing it is only one thing--facing the grief and anger and shame that comes with the seeing, and then making the conscious and tremendous effort to find a better way and practice, practice, practice that new way, is no small feat. Habits we were raised with run deep within us. We try, we fail, we try some more until we can create new habits. The clients I have seen in therapy who really do face those things and change them are my heroes. They are some of the most courageous and determined people in the world.

Today is Mother's day, and the experience has got me thinking about how much gratitude we owe our mothers (and fathers, but it's mother's day, remember) for all the things they got right. All those efforts they made to raise an emotionally healthy child generally are taken for granted, but they make a huge impact on the world. We bring those habits into all of our future relationships, at work, in partnership, and in parenting. Unconsciously, we can do a lot of damage, or a lot of good, depending on what we were taught to expect and give in relationships. I think it's fair to say (although it's changing in this generation) that usually, mothers do the majority of the role-modeling to children about intimate relationships and parenting. I know my mother did.

My mother was not perfect. None of us are. Issues from her own childhood came back to haunt her when she was already in the thick of marriage and parenting. That, combined with grief over losing her dear sister far too early, caused an emotional tailspin in her for a while. My parents marriage eventually fell apart, partly because of that, and she struggled for many years during my adolescence to regain strength and emotional stability. She and I have been over this topic, and how it affected me, a million times. Although my forgiveness of her is complete, I'm not sure she has fully forgiven herself for being so human.

But mostly, my mother got it right. And since becoming a parent I am more and more grateful for all the ways in which she, by her own parenting, prepared me to be a parent myself. I know now how easy it is to lose patience and lash out, especially when my own stresses and need for nurturing are great. I see now how much my mother taught me about being a good parent and person, just through her own parenting example. Here are just a few things she did.

She respected me. She never spoke to me abusively, or abused my body or spirit. When she needed to reprimand me in a room full of people, she took me aside so I wouldn't be embarrassed. She accepted who I was, and didn't try to make me into a different person. Still now, she accepts my decisions about who I am and how I want to live, even if they are not what she would choose. When I was a teenager, she respected my need to define myself and make mistakes. She respected my intelligence. She didn't offer dictates like "Don't have sex," or "Don't do drugs." Instead, she offered information about the potential risks of these things, and how, if I chose to do them, I could most minimize those risks. And when I screwed up she was there to support me. She also respected my emotions. When I was angry with her for the effect some of her choices had had on my life, she listened, even if it hurt her to hear. She never told me my emotions were wrong or minimized them in any way. Through my mother's respect, I learned to respect myself and others.

She was positive. My mom has always, in spite of her own dark periods, been an optimist. She always has hope for a better world, and tries to see and bring out the best in people. In my presence, she never made negative comments about me to her friends or family. Instead, she took every opportunity to share positive observations about me. When I was a teenager and barely talking to her, she didn't fall into the pattern of many parents of teenagers who gripe about the age and say how difficult their kids have become. She kept reinforcing the positive, and told people all the reasons she thought the teenage years were a neat time. She lived positive--she smiled and laughed and acted so silly it mortified me sometimes. But she showed me that life is about enjoying the little things, because if you wait for the big things you won't have enough opportunities for joy. Through my mother's positivity, I learned to live positive as well.

She was honest and real. She didn't put up a wall of authority between us, pretend to be perfect, or censor my exposure to hers and others' real life. She was honest about her struggles and she showed me that with hard work and humility, a person can overcome and change. She was honest about cruelties like homophobia and racism, and how much they hurt other people, and taught me not to tolerate them. She didn't try to hide from dark emotion or suppress joy. Of course, we need to protect our kids from the pain of life in an age-appropriate way, but also, we need to show them that problems are teachers, and if we are willing to face them we will grow and learn in amazing ways. We need to show them that it is OK and normal to get down, because life is just hard sometimes. My mother did this through her honest example, sharing her struggles and triumphs and lessons. Through her honesty, I learned not to fear the ups and downs of real life, and to be honest with others about my struggles.

She was generous with her love. My mother is one of the most giving and unselfish people I know. Sometimes, this is to her detriment, as it depletes her or causes others to take advantage of her. I have the same problem. Still, when this quality is in balance, it is so fulfilling both for the giver and receiver. There was never a time when I doubted my mother's undying love for me. Even when she was deeply mired in grief and despair, she never left me emotionally or physically. She has been there for every event in my life, good and bad, big or small. Even today, she is my biggest champion and supporter. This may seem normal--doesn't every good mother love their child like that? Maybe it is normal, but it is still a tremendous gift. Through my mother's love, I knew I was lovable, and I learned to be generous with love too.

All of these things that my mother is I am so grateful for because now I am a parent and I don't have to struggle with these things myself. I don't have to catch myself in behaviors that are not good for me or my child, and painstakingly change unhealthy habits. Not too many, anyway--of course I have my share. We all do. And as Boodge grows and my life happens, I may discover new challenges. But for the most part, my instincts towards my child are good. I can respect him, I can live positive for him, I can connect with him honestly, and I can love him deeply and unselfishly. It would be easy to take this all for granted. But I know that I owe a lot of it to my mom. If she hadn't been such a good parent, all of this would be much harder for me.

Thank you Mama. Thank you for not being that parent I heard over the fence. Thank you for working so hard on yourself over the years so that you could be a better person and parent. Thank you for loving me so well. We should all be so blessed as to have a mother like you. My deepest hope is to bless my babies in the same way. You have given me a great start.