Biting My Tongue

Throughout many years of mothering, I've learned a lot of lessons. I've learned that drawings displayed on the refrigerator should only be thrown away after a child is in bed and not when I'm having a meltdown regarding the fact that NOBODY PICKS UP AFTER THEMSELVES ANYMORE. I've learned that my idea of a clean bedroom and a child's idea of a clean bedroom are very, very different. I've learned that the meal that I've spent all day making is never as impressive as the delivered pizza.

It seems that the hardest lesson for me to learn is something I fondly refer to as "Back Off/Shut Up." In other words, do nothing at all. It sounds easy, doesn't it, but it goes against every natural maternal instinct with which we're born.

As the mother of a 13-year old girl, I'm finding "BOSU" to be invaluable. When we shop for clothes, I know that my opinion instantly makes an outfit either hideous or awesome, but not in the way that I'd like. If I want her to wear it, I cannot, under any circumstances, tell her that it's cute.

When homework is being done, ten minutes before school starts, it is critical that I not remind her that she could have done this assignment last night instead of sitting at the computer instant messaging friends.

What is essential is that I know that A) My jokes are dumb, B) I have never had as much homework as she has ever had, and C) I couldn't possibly understand what she's going through at any time...ever.

It sounds cruel and demeaning, but really, I do know that it's just the current phase under construction in her 13-year life. Along with everything else going on in her world, her home life is where she gets to go every day to totally lose it....sometimes at my expense. Oh, sure, I have my own breaking points and occasionally have to LOUDLY remind her of my place in the family tree and the respect I am due. But I also think back to the days when I'd pick her up from day care and she'd fall apart in my arms. The teachers would look at me, puzzled, and reassure me that she had a great day and was happy as a clam. Apparently, my little clam finds me an oasis where she needs to spit a few pearls once in a while.

The curious thing is that it's taking me nearly 20 years to figure out that like everything else in life, motherhood is a journey, not a destination. I'm always learning and yet, most of the time, it feels like I've mastered nothing. What works yesterday is oh so wrong today. By trial and error, I find what's effective until life moves on and it's totally not working anymore.

Right now, it's all about saying nothing at all. Ouch, my tongue hurts.