“I hate this house!” he yells at me. “You’re the worst mummy I ever had!” he throws in before storming out of the room. “Well,” I say, struggling to find the words, “I’m the only mummy you’ve ever had,” finally landing on the only words that come to mind, hiding the tears in my eyes.
The cause of the anger tonight? I wouldn’t let him have a snack before bed. I should explain that Mr. T is not supposed to eat right before bed, one of the repercussions of his health issue is that he suffers from reflux and he’s not supposed to eat and then lay down. My decision not to give him a snack minutes before he was heading to bed was not the act of an evil mother but truly for his own good, to prevent him from suffering late into the night.
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Sounds like an argument with a teenager doesn’t it? Nope; just another disagreement between me and my six year-old.
I sit on the stool, blinking back tears, as I hear him stomp up the stairs. I don’t know what to do. I know that giving in isn’t the answer, that it will only teach him to throw a tantrum every time he doesn’t get what he wants. Yet my instinct is to do just that, to call him back downstairs and give him his snack. To sit across from him at the table as he munches on milk and cookies and bask in his smile.
I want nothing more than to make my kids happy. I love to give them things that will make them smile, a little cookie before dinner, an extra cuddle during stories or 5 more minutes of bath time. It makes them happy and that makes me happy.
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Isn’t that what mothers are supposed to do? Make their kids happy?
As I hear him complaining in his room and I contemplate giving in, it hits me. At the precise moment when I’m about to let his tantrum win, I realize the most important job I have is not about me making them happy. The most important thing I can give my kids is the ability to make themselves happy.
I don’t want their happiness to be wrapped up in other people. I want them to be confident enough to go after what they want themselves rather than rely on someone to hand it to them. I want them to understand that life doesn’t always work out exactly as you had planned. Sometimes you don’t get what you want. There are times when, regardless of how badly you want something, you just can’t have it.
I won’t always be around to make sure that life works out in their favour. They have to learn to deal with that.
My job is to give them the tools to be able to know what it is that will make them happy and to give them the skills to learn to get it for themselves all while teaching them how to deal with the disappointment if it doesn’t go as planned.
My instinct, as a mother, is to give in, do whatever it takes to make my kids smile. My heart wants to bend over backwards to make them happy. My head knows that I would be doing them a disservice if I did that every single time. A couple of extra cuddles at bedtime and just one more story shows them I love them. Giving them everything they want each and every time shows them I don’t think they are capable of achieving their own contentment.
The best gift I can give to my children is the ability to find their own bliss. I may need a gentle reminder, the next time he claims to wish that I wasn’t his mummy and I want to give him everything his little heart desires. I may need a little reminder that this is all a part of his journey the next time my heart breaks just a little bit.
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