When Your Children Hate You, Let Them

Image Credit: Google Images “Angry Child”

I’ve had my children hate me from time to time. One now. The other, later. Sometimes both simultaneously.

As of today, I’ve been a mom for 22 years, 6 months, and 8 days, and I’m still as imperfect at parenting as I was when I first took on the role.

My children have hated me:

· When I told them to put away their toys and they did not want to

· When they had to fork over $50, then $75, then $100 copayments for phones damaged, lost, and destroyed

· When I needed them to not speak to me for at least 30 minutes upon arrival at home after work

· When I didn’t take them to parades and amusement parks because I couldn’t handle the crowds

· When I pushed them to communicate through writing, as an alternative to trying to verbally express themselves when their emotions were all knotted up

· When I enrolled them in schools they did not want to go to and when I enrolled them in ones they wanted to attend

· When I wanted them to apply themselves more and do better in school

· When I calmly hammered, broke, and threw away their Nintendos, DSs, and other games (Yes, on different occasions)

· When I kept them with me, in my classroom, until 7:00pm many nights

· When I dragged them to college class, after college class with me for nine years straight

· When their dad was part of our home and when he wasn’t

· When they somehow thought I was responsible for leaving their dad with $29 in his paycheck

· When I listened to their complaints about each other and about me, and when I didn’t

· When I was calm and when I yelled at them

· When I was stressed — which, admittedly, was often

· When things were beyond their control and they needed to lash out at someone, and I was the safe space

· When they thought they were grown but really were not.

The list likely runs the circumference of the earth, if not the solar system…