You need big shoulders to be a parent.
In my house I get blamed for all sorts of things:
“can’t find my leotard – I put it in the wash last week and it hasn’t come out” – you can do the washing next time
“there is no food in the house” – you can do the shopping next time
“you didn’t wake me up” – don’t you have your own alarm clock?
“I am going to be late” – so organise yourself more
“there are no socks” – yes there are lots and they need matching by one of you kids
“I’m hungry – when is tea” – you know where the fridge is, why don’t you make it for a change?
“You haven’t filled that form in for school” – you get a pen, you fill it in and I will sign it.
“All my other friends mothers let them stay up late” – well go and live at someone else’s house
It was not in the original job description under Essential
Mother wanted. Needs very big broad shoulders and not to take things personally
But it comes with the role.
As they get older the blames get greater and the shoulders need to be even bigger.
“I am rubbish at exams and that’s your fault. I must have your brains and not dad’s”
“Why can’t you be like other mothers?” – oh you mean the boring mothers?
All this is getting has been getting me in training for the big punches. I totally understand that it’s the mother that is blamed and the father (who avoids deep discussions and confrontations) is the Angel of the House, the Popular Person of the Year. I totally understand that the kids are taking their frustrations out on me.
And better to take them out on someone who loves them dearly, who is always there for them – than to shout at their best friend, or to hit a passer- by, or swear at the bus driver, or be rude to their form teacher. I know all that. I can take it – well most of the time.
What is harder and what I have been practicing for over the last 20 plus years is the big ones.
“It’s your fault I have a shit life and that I am disabled”
“I blame you for me struggling to get a job and putting it on facebook and making it sound like it’s taken me 23 years to get a job”
I am sure there is a lot worse to come. It is a bit like a marathon or should I say Motherthon. I am just working my way towards it and I am less than half way round. Pretty knackering and sometimes it takes the wind out of you.
It’s normal – my psychologist husband tells me as he continues to eat his breakfast as the words pour out of my daughter’s communication aid blaming me for her disability. “Am I failing miserably?” I ask my husband as he focuses on eating his breakfast. He did a PHd and studied psychology for 7 years and then tells me “It’s all normal stages of life until the kids get their full independence you will be to blame for most things”.
Time for reflection, time to look at my never ending parenting journey, time to look at how I can be a better mum. So they can blame the dogs instead next time. Or even their father!