Mom, why won’t you get me a tissue?
I hit bottom today. I hope. This morning, my daughter Rhys (4), sneezed. She reached for the tissue box, her fingers poised over the puff of white, “Mom, will you get me a tissue?” she asked sweetly. Without thinking, I walked over from the other end of the kitchen, “Of course, love. Here you go!” I replied as I handed her the tissue. Our eyes met and widened. We both knew what had just happened. I had fallen off the wagon.
Old patterns are a bitch to change. And one of my most insidious patterns is my need to do things for my children that they are perfectly capable of doing for themselves. Whether it is retrieving a tissue, a spoon or a pair of socks, somehow I’ve internalized the belief that mother equals sherpa, butler and server in our family. Unfortunately, I’ve reinforced this pattern with my children for several years.
When Ava (8) was in preschool, her teacher pulled me aside one day at pick-up time. Mr. Chris explained that while Ava was a compassionate, caring child, her tendency to jump up whenever someone sneezed and dive over the other kids in her eagerness to grab her classmate a tissue was disrupting to the class. My first thoughts: Disrupting? It’s not like you’re teaching them calculus! My child is helpful and caring! How can one precious four-year old (mine) disrupt a roomful of snot-nosed kids playing peek-a-boo? Please!
Then the shame crept in … Realizing I was busted, I explained that Ava came by her behavior honestly (as if Mr. Chris hadn’t already guessed). I modeled the same behavior for Ava, anticipating each sneeze and producing the necessary tissue with flourish. I had always thought this attention to my child’s every need was the mark of a good mother. While my belief in what makes a good mother has changed over the years, my actions have yet to catch up.
I thought my confession to Father Mr. Chris would change my pattern. Wishful thinking. Flash forward four years: Ava would no sooner jump up to grab someone a tissue than share her last bite of birthday cake, but she still will earnestly ask me to get her something that is within her reach. And if I respond, I often feel angry and resentful, neither of which are smart strategies for good relationships with my children. Or for sanity.
I like to think I’m improving, but my “do it yourself” muscles are as weak and flabby as my neglected core muscles. And no amount of side-planks and crunches are going to fix this pattern.
I’m clear my tendency to anticipate and fulfill another person’s needs isn’t for the other person. It’s for me. I get to feel in control – useful, needed and important – a paper towel here, a spoon there, a refill of cereal for you and a freshly-sharpened pencil for your sister! I’m like a short-order cook on crack – faster, faster, faster! Gosh, I’m great! (All this multi-tasking counts as exercise, right?)
Keeping my children small and dependent is also a great way for me to stay busy so I don’t have to focus on my own life adventures. And running around attending to my kids’ real and imagined needs assuages my insidious mommy guilt. (Here I am typing away on this blog while my beloved daughter’s boogers go unattended. The horror!)
Unless I’m on a quest to resent my kids as much as possible, something has to change. And apparently that something is me. So I decided to start today. Here’s how my redo with Rhys went this afternoon:
Rhys: “Mom, could you get me a spoon?”
Me: “No. “
Rhys: “Mom, would you please get me a spoon?
Me: “Thank you for the ‘please.’ And no.”
Rhys: “Mooooooooom, why won’t you get me a spoon? I’m starving, my yogurt is getting cold and I need a spoon!”
I was tempted to reply: “My darling daughter, ‘no’ is a complete sentence. I want you to have the experience of satisfaction and self-esteem that comes from doing things for yourself. I want to model for you that there is no shame in refusing a request, especially when that request will bring resentment. I would rather say “no” now rather than resent you later.”
I resisted the urge to explain. I would have lost her attention at “darling daughter” anyway.
Instead I replied: “I hear you need a spoon. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”
Rhys: “Fine.”
Not a drop of resentment in me. And I didn’t have to stand up. Unfortunately, I’ll probably burn fewer calories if I stop jumping up at every request! Perhaps I can fill my newfound time with side-planks.
Do you struggle with doing things for your children or others that they can do for themselves? If so, I’d love to hear. If not, quit gloating and share your secrets already!
I have not mastered the “no is a complete sentence” trick yet. I’m working on it!
Me either! I prefer the “do as I say not as I do” parenting approach!
You mean your kids weren’t learning calculus at 4? Hmmmm. How will they get into Harvard?
Well, we’ve “ruined” Ava with the calculus fiasco, so we’re setting our sights on Rhys (the little dear is mastering a statistics app on the ipad as I write this!).
Yes, I struggle with this…for kids and husband. Most of the time I retrieve whatever it is they want/lost because it is easier than listening to them whine. I also have difficulties with the word ” No” in general.
Conflict avoidance and whining avoidance – two of my specialties! I wish my husband had a problem saying “no” to me – unfortunately, he is comfortable with that concept.
Hilarious that the preschool teacher called you on that. I am guilty of this and working on it. My kids are 9 and 6 and they get mad when I tell them they are capable of doing things for themselves and I’m not there to serve them. Then they say they wish they had a maid and so-and-so has a maid. I tell them the maid is for their friend’s mother, not the kid. “No” would be a lot simpler than the crazy conversations we end up having over everything.
I love the conversation you have with your kids about maids! Ava’s favorite whine is “I am not a servant!” and “I wish I had parents that didn’t treat me like a servant!” Apparently, she’s watched Cinderella a few times too many …
I realized I was doing the same for my daughter when her Montessori teacher said, your daughter is really slow completing tasks in the classroom. Do you do a lot for her at home? I realized at that moment that I did do everything for her. I would ask her to do something, she wouldn’t do it quickly, so I would do it for her. It has been a painfully slow process to undo. Thankfully I haven’t done the same for the younger two so there is still hope
It’s a good thing we never got accepted into a Montessori school! I wish I was a quicker study – maybe we need to have a third so I can get this right with one kid!
Guilty as charged-I often do things for my kid that he can easily do for himself. Am trying to slowly wean myself of this habit. I have promised him that before he goes to college he will know how to cook for himself and do his own laundry
At this rate, I’ll be happy if my girls can pour their own milk by the time they go to college. It’s best for me to keep my expectations low!
Hi there! This is a good post. I frequently try and tell myself that if I just had the PATIENCE to teach things to my girls, they’d be more independent and learn how to do things for themselves. BUT-it’s pretty difficult, because it’s easier to just do it myself, or not have to listen to the whining and complaining during the learning process! **sigh**
Sooo much easier to just do it myself! Unfortunately, my short-term thinking is going to keep biting me in the a**! We’ll keep learning … Thanks for commenting!
For me, over-involvement in the kids’ doings stems partly from the fact that hey, I’m staying HOME. This is my JOB. So let me make it as much of an intensive, high-pressure environment as I had at work. I want to reach for the stars and get an A. If I let go of martyrdom, it’s like I’m letting go of ambition. It means more moments of just sitting in the sun and watching the kids eat sandwich cookies (because I ran out of fruit) and make the most of boredom (because I haven’t created an eco-learning art project using bottlecaps & gravel). That’s not why I went to grad school! Get over here, kids, so I can help you DEVELOP!
I still remember trying to cook all our meals from scratch with a colicky infant Moby-wrapped on my chest, and a preschooler wetting herself every 20 minutes. There was a certain gritty pride in the whole thing; I hadn’t combed my hair in weeks because SELFLESS!. There was always this still small voice going, “You know, you don’t get a promotion for this…” but I blocked it firmly.
Lately my daughter has told me she is ready to do lots more things for herself. And as thrilled as I am that OT has helped her over many humps, I’m gonna miss washing her hair and pouring her juice. I might have to just sit with myself instead, and listen to the birds sing. What a loser!
Yes, you got it and expressed it beautifully! This is exactly my stuff too! Do the birds outside your house sing “loser” too? What a coincidence! Who would want to sit still for that refrain?
Yes, yes and again, yes! This is a point of contention with me. My older son has a tray in his room and he puts it next to the bedroom door like he’s leaving it for room service. The Hubby and I joke that the guest in room 2A has left his dishes. Every night he wants us to get him a glass of water. He is 12. I am desperately trying to get him to do more for himself, while The Hubby insists that he’s a kid and should just enjoy himself, free of responsibility. Wrong. We’re working on it…
I hear you!!! I have to admit there is a part of me that admires our kids’ sense of entitlement and willingness to ask for whatever they damn well want! I think I could use a little more of that for ME! I hope your son at least remembers to tip the hotel staff!
Love this post
My daughter is only 2, so that I still do things for her is (I think?) ok but it never occurred to me to think about it like this! I also love to feel needed and use my children to distract me from my own goals so I’ll be remembering this as time goes on.
The tissues are my signal when I’m doing too much. Maybe you’ll be lucky and your daughter will want to do things for herself. If so, go with it! Thanks for commenting!
I’m the family “finder” or “all knowing and powerful one” – whichever way you want to look at it
I have an *almost* eiditic memory. If I’ve SEEN it, I remember where it is. My husband says it’s creepy but we all know he would lose his head without it – even though it’s attached to his shoulders. I’ve never thought to not tell them where stuff is, I often yell it out before they even ask! *I need help!* LOL
Love your choice of the word, eiditic!!
I am the family “finder”. I have an almost eidetic memory so if I’ve seen it – I remember where it is. My husband says it’s creepy but we all know he’d lose his head without it, yes, even though it’s attached to his head…
I’ve never thought to let them figure it out for themselves. Perhaps they’d start taking better care of their stuff? Who knows. It’s almost like an addiction, I usually yell it out before they even ask, I can’t stand watching them make a mess looking for something that’s RIGHT THERE!
I’ll have to consider this. Maybe it’s the excuse I need for a girls weekend away…leaving the family to fend for themselves for 2 whole days…something to consider!
Yes!!! It is like an addiction! So funny that you mentioned a girls weekend away – I’m doing that this weekend for first time since I had kids!!! I’m not sure what I’ll return to, but I’m willing to give it a try! I’ll let you know!
So funny and true. A constant struggle. In K, my sons teacher, said, “Tyler’s a great kid but could you show him how to zip his coat? He told me, I do it better.” Oops. My bad.
I’m sure we’ll “work it out.”
I better work it out or my kids will be demanding my sherpa/butler skills into their forties! Hmmm… I wonder if I can get my mom to do all our laundry? Thanks for reading this!