A mother's monologue

Not long ago two of my son’s were sitting around the table telling their friends horror stories of my unique way of mothering. I am long past the time when I thought they would sit around and call me blessed. In my dreams they would forever praise me and ask their wives to be mothers like I was. Horse feathers. 

I am now being accused of throwing them out in the yard in the summer, locking the door and telling them not to come back until the street lights were on. It’s their lie so they can tell it anyway they want to, but I know I didn’t lock them out of the house and further more they never stayed outside until the street lights came on. We were either eating supper or at a ballgame of some sort at dusk. (I did make my daughter practice her saxophone on the front porch. To that I will admit.)

I prided myself in being a good mother. I felt like I dedicate my whole life to those children. Now I hear all the terrible things I did to them. My memory is probably clouded because there were times when I wanted to take them all to the dog pound and put them up for adoption. Their main purpose in life was to drive me bonkers and it worked!

We all have stories of our parent’s and how we were raised. But you know our parent’s raised us the best they knew how at the time and I raised my kid’s the same way. While it wasn’t a perfect life, it was our life and on most days it was a very good life. I didn’t do everything perfectly and I sure made many mistakes but I loved those little heathens so much. I still do. So let them laugh…I am not the one raising kids anymore…they are.

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pic courtesy : http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/29/Mother-Child_face_to_face.jpg,