The Left Side of the Moon: The Woman of the House

I don't like to rely on my husband for much of anything. Not that he isn't reliable, I just hate not being able to handle things by myself. I pity those women who came generations before me, who hadn't the slightest clue how to manage the financial aspects of their lives if and when they were widowed. If one of us were to die tomorrow (god forbid) chances are he'd be much more lost than me. I just don't think it's even within me to hand over that much control over my life to someone, anyone, else.

I feel this way in my parenting as well. I made a deal with myself eight years ago. I would NEVER be the mother to say to my kids, "Just wait until your father gets home!"

Maybe you're one of these women. I don't mean any disrespect. But for me, some how it just signals to your kids that they've won. Mom's given in, she's not the boss. And how often does dad actually DO anything when he gets home? Oh, there may be a bit of yelling, but seriously, whatever. I remember thinking that as a kid too. Well, if that's all you got, that's really lame. My respect just dropped ten points. Maybe we're in negative numbers now. We're probably inventing new, imaginary negative numbers. Actually, forget the numbers. It's probably better represented by a formula where the limit is approaching negative infinity. The punishment was always way worse when mom inflicted it herself. Those times she was just too tired, or just didn't have the energy, those were the times she'd resort to the old standby. And I'd climb the stairs, rolling my eyes, thinking, "Yeah, I know. Just wait. I'm in for it now." I'd have to physically restrain the snickering.

So when I gave into the idea of being a mother, I promised myself that those words would never cross my lips. And in eight years, they never have. Blackstone likes to jump in every now and then when he feels one of the kids is disrespecting me in front of him. I have seriously conflicting feelings about this, though I've never discussed it with him. I appreciate he wants the kids to respect me, I also know that he's not doing me any favors by trying to demand they respect me. There's only one person who can make them respect me, and that's me. I don't really feel he's doing me any harm though, so I just let him. The boys know how it is when we're mono e mono. They know who the boss is, and they don't need dad there to coax them on who it is.

Not that the boys and I don't have our moments. Believe me. We HAVE our moments. I don't call them Trouble for nothing. But I always face them head on. No cop outs. No excuses. No giving in. They lose their allowance. They have friends sent home. They get punished with extra chores. They get time outs. They sit on my office floor while I work. They, on occasion, get spanked. They have their treats taken away. They have video games and TV taken away. I can get real creative. When I'm at a serious loss, I'll take a moment, breathe deeply, and channel Bree Van de Kamp. Go ahead and laugh. It keeps me strong, I swear. And not once have I ever backed down. They WILL listen to ME. They will not have to have their father tell them do it. They will do it because I demand it of them.

Does this make a good parent? Who the hell knows. I'm sure I'm giving them my own personal brand of dysfunction. There's never any way around that. But I will get through this parenting thing, do my damndest to look in the mirror at the end of every day, and know that I stayed true to myself, did the best I possibly could by them and by me.