Remember back when we were young and antagonistic? When every time our mom said "no" we were certain it was a grave injustice? Once (and probably much more than once), in seventh grade, I was still yammering away on the phone well past midnight. My mom threatened me repeatedly from the top of the stairs. I'd be grounded. She'd revoke my phone privileges. I think she even threatened to call my dad (ha ha, not while I was still on the phone!). Back then I swore when I had kids I was going to let them talk on the phone indefinitely whenever their heart desired, as long as they kept their grades up of course.
My imagined progeny were going to have cell phones from their earliest years. We'd eat Little Debbies every day with our lunch, and maybe even with our dinner. Then we'd have a bowl with three...
or maybe four...scoops of ice cream. During the county fair we would go every day and win as many goldfish as money could buy. Their room would have funky furniture and a waterbed. Of course they might not be there much because I'd make their curfew 1am and let them have as many sleepovers as they could pack into a week.
When they were home my imagined kids would get to play with the great number of pets we'd adopted, because I'd never say no. Or perhaps they'd watch movies and play games, because there would be no limit to their tv time. Clothes choices would be their decision and they would never be subjected to second-hand garb. And of course I would always readily provide transportation to and from wherever my child wanted to go.
One learns a lot in the years between being a child and having one. Things like the number of calories in four scoops of ice cream and the value of a good night's sleep. A little perspective allows us to see that a great many of the decisions we would have made on our parents' behalf would've been bad ones. And yet I have a hard time reconciling a few of those old attitudes with my responsibility as a mom. Some things are easier than others. Like fair fish. What a rip off. I can say no to a fair fish faster than Brynn can ask to play. Two dollars to
try to
maybe win a $0.29 fish? No, no, and no.
(Disclaimer: If you see me carrying a fish around at the fair in a couple weeks disregard my resolve in this paragraph),
Other issues really make me examine whether I'm saying "no" because it's the best thing for Brynn or if I'm saying it because it seems like the "good mom" thing to do. Take this evening's events for example. Tonight I dyed Brynn's hair blue. Not all of it mind you, just streaks, but it's "electric blue" and it's not going anywhere for the next 3-6 weeks. Some of you might remember back in 2007 when I put pink highlights in my hair for the summer. Brynn certainly remembers. Every summer now she asks me to dye her hair some funky color. The "good mom" in me says that I'm not supposed to allow Brynn to color her hair at all, and certainly not
blue. What will all the other parents think? What will
my parents think? And, *gulp* what will her dad's parents think?
The "good mom" in me says I blue it.
Ultimately though, I couldn't come up with very good reasons why a 10 year old shouldn't have blue streaks in her hair during the summer. After all, I'd done the same thing with pink as an adult. I bought the dye without harsh chemicals, so it wasn't a health issue. It'll be mostly washed out when school starts, and even if it's not there's no rule against hair color at her school. Part of being a "good mom" needs to be finding ways to allow your child to be happy (and healthy), and Brynn is absolutely thrilled. To be honest, I'm pleased with the whole thing too. It turns out it's no fun being the mom who has to say "no" all the time to a child's sincere but ridiculous requests. So, yes. Dye your hair blue. Just please,
please quit asking for me to abolish your bed time.
