Guest Post: ‘As always, I love you,’ signed Mom
Photo credit: Amy Wilbanks / Foter / CC BY-ND
Note from Dan: When we last heard from Christina Dietz of Blue Ridge, she was taking to task Liberty University. This time up, she writes: “I noticed on your blog that most of the issues you’ve been addressing lately are political, so I hope you don’t mind me throwing a change of course your way. It’s mostly just for your amusement (since your blog openly invites us to “vent” to you).” Thank, you, Tina. Enjoy, folks!
By Christina Dietz
November — pre-Thanksgiving — usually solicits requests for what people are most thankful for. Unfortunately, for some of us the actual holiday usually ends up being an all too obvious reality check that our families are NOT a Norman Rockwell painting, which is where the need to keep a sense of humor comes in.
Most of the story you are about to read is true. I sort of compiled the “winner” in the story from stories from other mothers I’ve commiserated with over the years. I wrote it mostly as therapy for myself, because after talking with a few friends I have regained my sense of humor.
But I’m considering sending it into the “Ask Ann Landers” column because the more I talk to other parents, the more I realize many of them have at least child like one of mine, and could use a good laugh and someone to speak their voice.
Hope you had a nice holiday. Feel free to share this with others you run across who need to regroup their own sense of humor.
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My Dearest Child,
Thank you so much for another exciting holiday. You’ve certainly given my friends and me plenty to talk about.
The account of your having a snitty fit over my not having the right kind of paint brushes on hand had us weeping with laughter. And I really thought you were a shoe-in for the “Child Who Behaved Most Badly Award” this year when you made the declaration that I single-handedly ruined your every birthday for as long as you can remember. Especially when you had your Dad march your lovely, 33-year-old blubbering face before me and demand that I apologize to you.
I’m not really sure exactly how, or even when, you selected me for the exalted honor of being your happiness guru, but had you asked me about it first I would have told you outright that I can only wish you happiness. I don’t have now, nor have I ever had, the ability to whip up happiness for you or to make you be happy. In fact, I’d always thought happiness was the responsibility of an individual and rose from being appreciative for what you have or receive and from having the ability to recognize and be thankful for your blessings.
But maybe that’s considered just plain old-fashioned now-a-days.
Alas, though, the award went to another daughter this year who, among other gracious acts, threw a hissy fit over her mother not having the “right” shampoo, and who vividly described through the entire festive dinner how the dark meat of a turkey is harmful to your health.
Then when helping clean the table, she took the initiative to throw out all of the turkey leftovers except for the breast meat, which she put dumped all of into a doggy bag for herself, then hastily marched her way out the door while directing the classic epitaph at her mother, “I wish you’d never been born!” I guess in her frenzy it didn’t occur to her that had her mother never been born then she herself would not be around to take such pleasures in saying such things.
So, I guess you will have to try harder next year. Knowing you, I’m sure you are up for the challenge. Keep up the good work — the tales you’ve given me to share through the years have given much comfort to other mothers who flail in their relationships with their children and who find themselves constantly falling short of their children’s unrealistic expectations.
No one asked me what I was most thankful for this Thanksgiving, but after you left I’ve thought about it. This year I am most thankful that you do not yet have any children, or else you would most undoubtedly have found a way to hold me at fault for ruining every single one of their birthdays, too.
Right now, especially since your father is still mad at me, that is truly my biggest blessing.
As always, I love you,
Mom
December 19, 2012 - 8:00 AM
Too funny and too true in a bitter-sweet way. Glad to be part of your catharsis. Honestly, always thought it was my duty (one I willingly accept) to be there for my children when they need me but raise them so that they don’t. That “don’t” part sometimes takes longer than expected. Tina, thanks for the reminder that laughter is the best elixir. Happy Holidays everyone.
…i prefer the darker side of turkey meat.
…be patient. i’d bet most kids grow a little more “appreciative” of their growing up years, and their parents…even moms…after they themselves have kids.
I would just like to point out that we are, all of us, at least in part what we are willing to tolerate. I did not find this letter amusing. I found it pathetic.
Whew.
I am not a mom,being that I am a dad,but I would guess that a good dose of truth has been dug up by this letter.Bless all moms,sometimes it has to be a thankless job
I am a Mom, and a very happy, blessed and after reading this letter, grateful Mom. I cannot relate on any level to grown children who behave like a 13-year-old drama queen. Thankfully I did not raise any of those. My daughter is 29 and my son is 27 and whenever they leave a room, I am inundated with questions and comments about what wonderful kids I raised. I take no credit, in any circumstance or comment, not from others and not from my kids. I tell you we are born hardwired to be who we become (excluding neglect, abuse and indifference) and I did nothing special, right, wonderful or noteworthy to end up with great, loving, kind, thoughtful, respectful, well-adjusted, gainfully employed, conscientious kids.
Christina
In the since5re hope that this was an exaggerated satire written to evoke laughter and poke fun at people who become too serious, I wish you a merry Christmas and much laughter.
Sandi, you are so right that we are hardwired to be who we become. We are born with the basic foundation of a temperaments, and this foundation stays true for our entire lives. I am an emotional sort – have been since I can remember. Others see the world through the lens of order or logic or adventure. All have intinsic value and are worthy of respect. Imagine a world without people who value adventure and take chances; or without people who value order and consistency; or without people who are driven by logic and have vision; or who intuitively understand when someone is happy or sad. My wife and I have not molded our sons into young men; we have guided them along a path with many turns, answered their questions as best we could, and provided a model of reasonable behavior. With all its ups and downs, I have loved being a Dad.
If her adult daughter truly behaved like that, I don’t find it funny either. The behavior of young children can sometimes be excused, the behavior of adults, not so much.
Picture day was one day last month at my grandson’s school. He and several of his male friends, all 7 yrs old, threw fits over having to wear nice shirts. They all wanted to wear t-shirts. My grandson told his mom that he hated that “rusty,crusty,musty,dusty shirt” and another kid told his dad, “you’re so mean, you’re so bossy.” They still had to wear their shirts though, with t-shirts underneath so the dress shirts could be taken off after the pictures were taken. I fully expected my grandson to scowl when his pic was taken, but he surprised me and smiled.
Frank, when my daughter went off to college and was on her own, she became very appreciative of me. She was fussing a few years ago about how rude and hateful her teenage stepsister was to her parents. I reminded her that she had once been the same way. She hung her head and said, I know, I’m sorry.
That may well have been satire, but I have seen and known parents with children rather much like that.
hey Debbie,
yep, the older THEY get, the smarter WE get…or, something like that.
I love having boys. If used the words “right” and “shampoo” in the same sentence they’d look at me like I was insane.
Just to let you know, my 33 year old daughter is actually mostly very sweet, considerate, talented, and successful, and despite the times she has a “stupid episode” with me (like with the paintbrushes and birthday deal) we both get over it quickly and don’t hold it against one another. I’m glad some of you have “perfect” kids (sounds like you wouldn’t settle for anything else, so thank God for them they are!)…I’m glad I don’t…God doesn’t either and I learn a lot about His Grace towards us, both from being imperfect and from being around others who are imperfect, including my kids. (And my gosh, some of you should just plain lighten up. Golly, has this country ever forgotten what a sense of humor is! Quit sitting on sticks!) Truly, there are MANY mothers out there who “got it.” I know because I have talked to lots of them! If you aren’t one of them, then sorry, but simply, I didn’t write “As Always” for you. Don’t take it personal.
yes, boys are more compliant, more willing to please.
and, less inclined to question, dis-obey, and push the envelope.
…have an apple, anyone?
Kristen, reminds me of a joke I saw on FB. One pie chart shows the reasons women choose shampoo. It’s got about a dozen reasons. The other pie chart was for men. It was one color representing “the bottle says shampoo.”
Tina,
I’m glad some people have perfect children too. God knows I don’t, although as an adult she is much better than she was as a teen. She has a son and a daughter, I’m looking forward to her going through their teen years.
Gdad, I remember one time when my daughter was in high school, she was going to the movies with a male friend. She asked him on the phone what he was going to wear, something teen girls always ask each other. His response was, “What am i going to wear? I’m gonna wear what I’ve got on.”
Gdad, that about sums it up around here. If i end up with one I don’t like I just send it down the hall.
Debbie, I love it when my sons come home and treat me to tales of their female friends behaviors. It’s like they’re talking about a different species. “Mom, hen you were in high school die you have to go to the restroom at the same time as all your friends? Do ALL girls go to the bathroom together?” ( uh, yes and yes). Cracks me up.
Tina Dietz, the only person here who used the word “perfect” is you. Your “letter” struck me as sad, not funny and IMO not satire either.
While I am not one to air my personal problems, my family, myself, nor my children are or have ever been perfect. The very idea is laughable. No one is perfect. And that was certainly not my point. My children had meltdowns and public displays of selfish behavior…when they were two. We had some difficult interactions when they were teens, but adult children who behave that way at holidays or family events are not “sweet, considerate, talented, and successful” the other 364 days of the year. There is an underlying hostility, and unresolved anger in such behavior that is not entertaining to me. But, to each their own.
Sandi, you saved me the need to response. I love you.
Boys are easier to raise, but the world is harder on them IMO. It always struck me that my daughter asked about 100 questions and needed explanations and reasons why things had to be done, achieved, discussed, etc. to my son’s 10. When you are living through a stage, it is so different than looking back on it years later. It is also odd how the “big things” for me are not the “big things” for them. Whenever a sentence begins, “Remember when…”, one of us is likely not to.
Kristen @ 8:18, I love it!
I have to agree with Sandi. A 13 year old having an attitude comes with the territory. When a woman in her 30′s behaves like a bratty teenager, it’s not humorous, it’s sad and embarrassing.
I am glad for yor sake Tina, that she doesn’t behave that way all the time, and I don’t doubt that she is mostly very sweet, considerate, talented, and successful. She may well be an extremely funny person most of the time too, I just don’t find the behavior you described as funny as you apparently do.
Miriam, thanks, I love you too!