I'll Never Grow Up

"Well, when you're the mom you can do it however you want."

Said my mom a million times while I was growing up. And in my heart I secretly swore that I would. I would never fix my husband hot chocolate and let him drink it in front of the 6 year old when it was the last cup. I would never force my 10 year old to wear red jeans (at a time when they were NOT the style) and tell her that just because they say "chic" on the butt pocket means they're in style. I would never make my 12 year old go to bed at the same time as her younger siblings, even if I did let her read for an hour before lights out, just so I could spend time with my husband after he pulls into the driveway at 9 or later. I would never read my 16 year old's emails from her high school crush. I would never forbid my kids to have a Facebook until they graduate high school. Oh no, those are all things I would never do. Because when I grew up I was going to be a better and upgraded version of my mom.

But now I'm learning. I'll never grow up. I'll never be a better mom than mine. And those of you who know my mom know it's true. What was I doing those 18 years while I was supposed to be learning how to parent? I was too busy not growing up. Sure, I was getting older, but I wasn't paying attention like I should have. I should have been watching what my mom did when my two year old sister decided that the proper response to any parental request was "no!" I should have been watching what she did when my 1 year old sibling wouldn't sleep and spent an hour or more straight crying. I should have been watching how she cooked dinner every.single.night. instead of defaulting to frozen pizza just because she was tired. I should have been watching how she managed to do the dishes and laundry despite having 5 kids under 6. I should have been learning. I should have been growing up. Instead, I was growing older. Breezing through life thinking that my mom's job was easy. Being ungrateful because she didn't get my dress hemmed by Sunday tomorrow instead of Sunday next week.

I knew that being a mom wasn't easy. I probably knew it better than most new moms simply from being the oldest of 12 kids and nannying my way through school. But I had. no. clue. Like really. None. I think a part of my brain just thought that intuition all the sudden showed up as soon as you held your baby for the first time. I thought that I would know how best to discipline my child, when to take them to the doctor, how to tell what was bothering them when they were too young to tell me. I thought that I could deal with sleepless nights and still be fine the next day. I thought that I would always have time to look nice for my husband and that finding time separate from the kids to spend with him would be easy. I thought that once I was a mom, I would automatically know stuff. I thought I would all the sudden hit that "maturity."

I was wrong. I was still just a twenty year old girl with no clue. I mean, sure. I learned to nurse my baby and meet her needs. I felt a kind of love that I never thought possible and felt a bond so strong with my child that it blew my mind. But the first time she projectile vomited, I was at a loss. Was something wrong? Was this something to worry about? And it just kept turning into more questions. How do I teach her that she can't bite? How do I soothe her ear infection? What do I do when she breaks her femur? How do I tell when she's ready to potty train or ride a bike or start using crayons? I mean seriously. Everything became a question. I am on the phone with my mom twenty times a day asking her what the heck I'm supposed to do!?

And then it occurred to me: being mature isn't knowing everything. Being grown up isn't about being all-knowing. It's about knowing what you don't know and being humble enough to admit it and teach yourself about it. It's about using resources and relying on the Lord. It's about realizing that you can't do it all by yourself. It's about admitting your mistakes and working not to replicate them.

So maybe I am growing up a little. Maybe I'm getting slowly more mature. Maybe tomorrow instead of goldfish and canned pears I'll feed my kids something nutritious for dinner (although it could have been worse...maybe...). Maybe I'll change some little thing about myself. Maybe I'll try harder to listen to the Spirit. And maybe I'll grow up a little more.

And I must be growing up a little because I can tell you right now that I don't know everything but that I will be reading my kids' emails periodically and I will make Scott hot chocolate when my kids have to drink water and I will make them all go to bed so that I can spend time with him and they won't have facebooks until they graduate. However, I will never make my child wear red jeans. That's just cruel. But hey, my mom isn't perfect either :P