It was time for us to start our daily reading when yet another battle began. I was not in the mood for this. Dinner time was fast approaching and every minute wasted arguing about reading instead of doing her reading meant fewer precious moments that I could spend putting my pregnant feet up.
We’d been at it for weeks! Every afternoon, I watched my 4 foot nothin’ first grader turn into some sort of union rep trying to redefine the terms of her job description.
When was this kid going to realize that no matter how many times she begged or how many excuses she threw my way, I was not going to allow her to dodge reading time?
She had a job to do!
My Less Than Finer Moment
I’d like to say that I dropped a knee, came to her level and gave her my best “Danny Tanner speech” to patch everything up in 90’s sitcom style. But that’s not what happened. Perhaps, I should’ve worn a scrunchie?
Anyway, what actually happened was that I lost my cool. I yelled and went on and on about how she gives mommy such a hard time. I complained about how hard I work, listing a daily chore with each of my fingers and ended my case with a pathetic, “I wish you would just listen!”
Unable to press her tight lips together a moment longer, her brave face fell as she uttered words I will never forget, “Mommy, you don’t like me!”
Oh, the tears came pouring down, hers first, then mine, each one making the weight of my heart heavier and heavier.
“What? Mommy likes you. I love you! Everything I do is for you!” I cried, feeling like a failure of a mother.
Handling Failure
I know we toss the world failure around too much as mothers, but I truly had failed in that moment. I had failed to love my firstborn the way we all want to be love-unconditionally.
I was so focused on what I wanted as a parent, that I’d forgotten what was best for her. If I’d been honest about the situation, I would have admitted to my own part in the recurring reading battle.
What was I doing to make reading time a time to look forward to?
Every time we sat down to read, I was selfishly in a rush to be done so that I could take a break. My coveted quiet time had diminished the value of quality moments with my daughter. So much for developing a lifelong love of reading.
And then there were my expectations. I put extra pressure on her to read with accuracy because of my own fears about her academic performance. I wanted to undo my shame as a struggling reading by forcing her to excel.
She could feel it. She was only seven and she could sense that I wasn’t pleased with her. But really, I wasn’t pleased with ME.
How often do we do this as parents? We say I love you with words, but fail through our deeds.
The BUTS
I love you, but I want you to play this sport and win that competition so that you can fulfill me.
I love you, but I’m going to point out your messy hair, that thing on your nose and that awful outfit because it will embarrass me in front of our relatives and my peers. Mommy can’t have that.
I love you, but you have to pursue a “real career” even if you hate it because the last thing I want is for you to live in my house any longer than necessary.
Ouch.
All of that is failure to love and I saw it in my daughter’s eyes the day she said that I didn’t like her. She had sensed that my love was based on how well she could perform for me.
The Lesson
I’m so thankful for that failure. It stopped me in my tracks and forced me to consider how my sweetheart perceived mommy’s love. The reading time and my quiet time meant nothing anymore. I was reminded that I didn’t want a robot or a 2.0 version of myself for a daughter because truly, she could be so much better.
I wanted her to know that I love her no matter what. It’s my desire for each of my children that they understand that my love for them is unconditional.
I believe that most of us feel this way, yet there are moments we let the pressures of life and fears of the future tangle our heart strings.
Let’s keep those strings straight, secure and ready to vibrate the kind of love we want our children to experience.
