I suppose my overall, general perception of my mom could be summed up in one word: strict. When I was young, I just remember there being a lot of rules in my house. Bed time was at 9pm sharp. No R-rated movies were allowed in the house. Chore day was Sundays. Bedrooms were expected to be picked up; no piles of clothes on the floor. No TV during dinner. No food in the living room. There were certain TV shows that we weren't allowed to watch (oh, and we didn't have cable. To this day, they still don't.) You had better be on your deathbed if you were going to tell mom that you were too sick to attend school or church, and even then, she made us go 95% of the time either way. I could go on and on. We used to say the entire rosary as a family in the living room every Sunday evening. If we were traveling, we would say it in the car. Each kid had to recite a section of it. True story.
When my son left babyhood and embarked on his journey into toddlerhood, I tried my best to take it all in stride, considering what a neurotic, control freak I am. I knew that I had to learn how to relax, not stress about every little thing and to learn how to pick my battles if I was going to get through it unscathed. I cannot stress enough how important it has been for me to pick my battles. I'm not saying I get it right every time; I don't. But I try very hard to not sweat the small stuff. However, I'm still only human. And toddlers have a very super-human way of getting under the skin of even the most composed mom.
I lose my patience and temper way too often. I yell more than I ever thought I would. And these things make me sad and disappointed in myself as a mom and as a person. I struggle sometimes between the push and pull of wanting to give my babies everything but also not wanting to turn them into spoiled, entitled brats. And it can be so difficult sometimes to keep your composure, especially at the end of a long day when your toddler hasn't napped and your baby is cutting teeth and cranky. But, I will *always* apologize to my kids and tell them I was wrong when I feel it's the case. Just the other night, my kid threw a tantrum for having to take a bath. He was running on no nap and he just looked exhausted, so naturally he fought me when I informed him it was bath time. Instead of recognizing his immediate handicaps (e.g. no nap) I escalated quickly myself and ended up yelling and setting a poor example for how a mom should act when her toddler is tired and being obstinate. I made a point to apologize to my kid the next morning and talk with him about what mommy did wrong, but also what he did wrong, too. I asked him to work on his temper and using calm words to explain his feelings, and I vowed to also work on improving mine.
Sometimes I wonder if I had had kids earlier in life, if I would parent any differently than I do now. Overall, I think I would be the same; maybe just a tad more mellow and with more energy. But I don't regret waiting to have kids this late in life. If anything, I wasn't nearly mature enough to have children in my twenties. I'm barely mature enough to have them in my thirties.
I think the takeaway from this question of what kind of mother am I going to be is something like this: as long as I love my children, the rest will happen how it happens. I never want my kids to question my love for them. I never want them to feel like they can't come to me when they're in trouble. I will not tolerate disrespect and I will never be the mom who tries to be BFFs with her kids. I will do my best to hold my kids accountable for their actions. I will not raise my kids to be entitled assholes. I hope I can be effective in teaching my kids how to have empathy for others. I hope my kids have confidence in themselves. I hope they grow up to be close with one another and have each other to lean on when mom and dad are gone. I hope they will take care of me when I can no longer take care of myself. I hope they will put love and positivity and activism and altruism out into the universe as they grow and get older. I hope they will love themselves.
