When I was traveling home from Norway with three little kids, I learned a lesson that I should have already known. Little kids think that their parents (mostly their moms) can do everything. That we control everything.
On that trip, I was traveling alone with the three kids, one eight years old, one five and the third not quite two. We sat in the plane, on the tarmac, for a long time waiting to be cleared to take off. We probably sat there for two hours. After we had been waiting for a while, my five year old said "why aren't you driving mom?". I tried to explain to him that I was not "driving" the plane, the pilot was and it was his job to decide when we could fly. This five year old did not believe me. "unh uh, YOU are the driver" he insisted.
What did I learn? What I learned is that our children believe that we are all powerful. That if the weather is bad, if they fall and need a kiss, or if the plane is taking a long time to get moving, we are the one that makes it all happen.
Another case in point. A man I know was taking his girlfriend to meet his mother. The girlfriend asked him to describe what his mother was like. The man said "she's really tall". The man is over 6' tall. His mother was around 5'2". The girlfriend was surprised when she met her future mother in law. The man, in his mind, saw his mother as a much bigger person than she actually was. Because , in his mind she was a big presence.
My own mother held some of the mother power over the three of us. We all loved her dearly. But we all were afraid if her too. My sister and I washed some bath mats of our mother's. When we took them out of the dryer, the little rugs were reduced to ragged, fluffy things. The dryer was full of pink fluff. Our first thought was "oh no, she's going to kill us". Now you should know that our mother was 5'1", disabled, and attached to an oxygen hose. Physically there was nothing in the world she would have been able to do. But, we were still scared. When we tried to sneak the shredded rugs past our mom, she saw us. My sister and I burst out laughing. When we showed the rugs to our mother, she laughed too. What on earth were we afraid of? We were afraid of getting in trouble. Being scolded and made to feel like naughty little kids. That's the power my mother had.
Years ago, I cannot remember the conversation, but my daughter was upset at something. Probably something I said. She was crying when she said "I do everything to make you happy". I was so surprised! I told her that I do not want to have that power. I don't know if anything happened in that moment, but I do know that my daughter is able to be honest with me and I think (I hope) that she is not afraid of disappointing me.
And now, I think that we have become our parents in some strange way. The kids see the things we are not doing "right" and want to correct us because they know better. We are told that we shouldn't be paying for TV cable. We should get these other things with strange names (Hulu?). We'd be able to get all the shows we want and wouldn't be spending as much. We have our cell phone service with a crummy company and should change that as well.
We (Nick and I) know and admire that things that our adult kids know. We are often in absolute awe. But, we don't have to change things if we are happy with how we are doing things.
Recently we were "blamed" for anything that's wrong in our house. "why did you buy a house that is so big? has this or that problem. Why don't you call a plumber?" As long as we are competent, we will continue to do whatever we feel is right in our own house
There will be a time I am sure, when we will need the help of our children for much if not all of our needs. But not yet. It is my plan and hope that we will be in a place where we can be as independent as we want and know that there is care available when we need it.
I do miss my mom. Nick misses his mother. But I don't miss being second guessed and being hurt occasionally. I did "give" her that power. No consciously , but [probably] naturally.
Maybe one day I will write about fathers. Mostly my father....
My sister's high school graduation, 1966
