Me, on the other hand, that’s a different story. Soccer makes me retreat, retreat, retreat. The kid attacks on the field whereas he normally retreats on the sidelines. I’m the opposite. I am normally a loud, vivacious and opinionated kind of person. But not so much in situations like these.
I'm working on scientific proof of what I call Pavmom's Theory of Conditioning. Maybe you can remember learning something about this scientific theory in school… In the real theory, Pavlov's theory, a bell ringing would cause dogs to salivate in preparation for food. In my theory, kids do the same thing, but with mommy noises.
Eating out is my love language. I’ve always said this. I think it must be because I crave and value uninterrupted time with my family. Eating at home is chaotic and I hate to cook. Then I have to clean. Truly, if you love me, you will take me out to eat.
Life isn’t about entering battles I am destined to lose. Even if I “win” momentarily, I can lose on the exact same subject by the very next thread posted by people who haven’t been true friends in a long time, if ever. I want to make a conscious decision to step down, out of the virtual bubble that defeats me, and into the real life that beckons joy and peace.
I hope my kids remember me as loving and kind. I don’t want them to remember how I responded when they decided to empty all their dresser drawers after I spent two days folding all the laundry and putting it away. So, sometimes I have to utilize the resources I have available to me to deflect a few of those trying moments.
How do I talk to my children to explain about the evils of which they have not encountered? How do I? How do I teach my children better? How do I peel off the layers of generational hurt and anger? How do I help them understand the issues that I myself do not understand?
I never realize how *I* talk until I hear it coming out of the mouth of my kids. For instance, my daughter was looking outside and asked me what that bird was just on the other side of the “wind-ah.” The what? Oh, the WINDOW.
I knew I wasn’t doing a good job of it, but as her mom, I wanted to comfort her in a time of sadness. I wanted to explain it in a way that she could understand and feel peace. I wanted to find the right words to make her feel safe and reassured. I was an idiot.