Notice to My Children
It has come to my attention that some of you have made utter fools of yourselves recently, lately, in the distant past, or will do so in the future. It is only fair that I warn you that, if you go too far with your tomfoolery,
I AM STILL GOING TO LOVE YOU TERRIBLY.
This terrible love is painful to me, my young fools, because it is entirely unrewarding and Not Fun. The Surgeon General has determined that parenting can be dangerous to the heart, stomach, and spleen and can cause premature graying, baldness, and insomnia.
Therefore, until further notice, your father and I demand the following:
- You do not have to be 100% perfect. We will settle for perfect Within Normal Limits.
- Any mistakes you make must be modest in size, and legal.
- Your youthful brashness and arrogance must remain tolerable, or at least amusing, at all times, giving your father and me something to chuckle about over coffee.
- Crises are allowed, but must be manageable and must not involve changing diapers, paying child support, or visiting anyone in prison.
- Emergency rooms, hospitals, and morgues are absolutely off limits. I am not joking.
- When you call to say, “I’ve had a wreck,” the first words out of your mouth had better be, “I’m OK.”
- Behaviors that embarrass us must be equal and proportional to behaviors that make us proud and give us something to brag about.
Signed,
The Mgmt.
13 responses so far ↓
Alida // July 18, 2008 at 6:29 PM |
May I have a copy to post on my fridge?
henitsirk // July 18, 2008 at 8:03 PM |
That’s hilarious, and so true. I can’t believe the grey hairs! Oh, my spleen, my duodenum!
Graciel // July 19, 2008 at 1:03 PM |
This is so fabulous, it should be made into a small poster and sold on etsy.com. You would be selling them world-wide.
I found you via Barry Weber and the exquisite comment you left recently. Your writing “illuminates and inspires”.
And you photos…just beautiful. What can you tell me about that amazing little bed?
All my best,
Graciel
deb // July 19, 2008 at 1:14 PM |
Good luck with that. My kids obviously didn’t get the memo, having visited my son in prison and my daughter in ER. I do love them something fierce though.
Eve // July 19, 2008 at 2:03 PM |
Graciel, hello to you, and welcome. I’ll be visiting your blog shortly, as I can see from the previews when I mouse over your name that I’m going to enjoy it. Hurrah!
That amazing little bed, you can find the details on by clicking on my Flickr photos (somewhere in the bar to the right). It’s a NY Metropolitan Museum of Art holding. It’s charming, isn’t it? Interesting how concrete and home-making the non-modern mind was. I doubt we would find anyone making such an intricate little bed for baby Jesus these days.
Eve // July 19, 2008 at 2:06 PM |
Deb, too late, I fear. I’ve had numerous ER visits and not a few jail visits, too. I wrote this tongue-in-cheek and quite wishfully. I want my mothering life, and the rest of my life (dammit!) to be WNL–within normal limits. Comfortable. Safe. I only want my heart to pound or break over pathos, not the pathological.
My children (and everyone else I care about, for that matter; and life itself!) do not seem very cooperative. Hence the memo. It’s a memo about what I wish life were, especially as a mother.
Put another way, my kid just gave me reason to pull my hair out this week. The memo is for that kid and for all my other kids who so clearly did not get the memo!
Shirley // July 20, 2008 at 8:45 AM |
Eve, take heart.
There were many days during which I could have killed every one of the four of whom I am now so proud.
Eve // July 20, 2008 at 10:09 AM |
Shirley, I do take heart; but sometimes I think it would be nice if we were born directly from the forehead of God–like Athena–and didn’t have to go through all this developmental, human foolishness.
My friend told me a story yesterday. Her mother is 80 years old, and they were discussing some young adult foolishness of one of my friend’s children. My friend was moaning and complaining about it, and her mother said, “Honey, I am 80 years old and my youngest child is 42, and I can just now say that my children are all living up to their God-given potentials and living as best they can; be patient.” My friend said this put it in perspective for her. I know it will be well, but it takes a special kind of self-discipline to walk by faith and not by sight when it comes to one’s beloved children. I have no doubt that you know what I mean.
deb // July 20, 2008 at 8:39 PM |
Nice to know I”m not alone:)
Lee // July 21, 2008 at 7:44 AM |
I love this, even though it is the family situation we all “want” and don’t necessarily have. It is indeed what we strive for!
You wouldn’t believe how many times in our house we say “could you please stop doing thus and so, we don’t need a field trip to ER tonite!” My 4 y/o is utterly fearless!
Eve // July 21, 2008 at 8:38 AM |
Deb, no, you’re not alone. When I was a much younger parent, I actually believed that there were things I could do as a parent that would guarantee that my children would, in effect, be about 80-90% perfect by adulthood, and remain so throughout adulthood. That is, they wouldn’t wreck the cars, sneak out of the house, have premarital sex, take drugs of any kind, drink alcohol under age, do stupid things that lead to jail time, develop addictions, drop out of college, flunk out of college, refuse to even go to college, scream “I hate you!”, require ER visits or hospital stays, date or even marry the wrong person, end up divorced, have affairs, vote for the wrong political party, and not only think but also tell me how dumb my beliefs are. Though one or another of them haven’t yet done all these things, these are what I feared the most as a young Christian parent. When I was a less developed human being, I must have wanted them to be enthusiastic little evangelical Christians–and if not that, then at least devout at some religion–and if not that, at least be environmentally friendly and recycle.
My first teenager cured me of that, and it was a hellish road, I can tell you. By the time my fourth teen was raised, I realized with a cold certainty that all the home schooling, church youth groups, and good parenting in the world would not cure my children of what Jews and Christians call “original sin” and what Buddhists call bad “seeds,” and what atheists and agnostics call being human.
I was once at a home school support group meeting and a mother with a rebellious teenage daughter was doing some verbal hand-wringing about it. Another mother spoke up and asked, “Do your younger children have any Care Bears?” The distraught mother looked at her blankly for a few moments before answering, “Yes, they do.”
“The Care Bears are in your house?”
“Yes,” answered the teen’s mother. “The rainbow one and I can’t remember which other ones.”
“That’s your problem. Those Care Bears come out of New Age witchcraft and they’re defiling your home. Get rid of them, and your teenager will stop acting up.”
The teen’s mother looked surprised at first, but you could see enlightenment spreading over her face. “Wow, thanks! I never even thought of cleansing my home!”
I was dumbfounded. The last time I checked, the rainbow was a natural occurrance; and if you want to look at it Biblically, God set it in the heavens as a sign of his promise to Noah. So is there any reason why a Christian home would have to be “cleansed” of something created by God? Much less something occurring on a TEDDY BEAR?
I never went back to that group. But the scene has stayed with me all these years as one of the stupidest but best examples I’ve seen of parents superstitiously believing that they can control outcomes for their children, and create ‘perfect’ children when God Himself could not, in fact, manage to create people who did not insist on going their own way from time to time. I’m not saying that good parenting has no effect; of course it does. Too many outcome studies show that children who are loved and parented well from the beginning have better outcomes than those who do not. But Care Bear defilement? Please. Guarantees? Not likely.
Even so, I’d like to be able to control outcomes and download wisdom and virtue into my kids’ brains. It would make my life so much easier.
Eve // July 21, 2008 at 8:50 AM |
Lee, hello there. Your comment made me laugh, because one of my favorite lines is, “Stop running in the house! I don’t have time for an ER visit today!”
andrea thaggard // July 26, 2008 at 8:54 PM |
Loving Eve.