Friday, May 9

My teenager - the five year old

I am mothering a five year old teenager. Well, that is what it feels like. My teenager already wants to wear makeup to kindergarten. When she is asked to do something, she automatically goes into negotiation mode; 'so what are you going to do for me into return'. She thinks she is more capable than anyone in the family and thinks she is the only one who does anything. My five year old thinks that she should be independent. She is too old to have her mother doing things for her. She even is moody and obstinate. This is not how I imagined motherhood to be. I thought I would have at least another 10 years for this to start.

I actually didn´t ever think that I would be a mother, but when I was pregnant, I would have lyrical dreams about how my daughter (always a daughter. For some reason I could never imagine having a son) and I would make discoveries in the garden and explore delights such as the butterflies flying around around, the beautiful flowers, I would show her the worms hidden in the dirt. We would snuggle together reading books that she would love, like I love books. She would come and smother me with kisses saying 'I love you mummy, you are my snuggy bunny'. We would put the music on and dance around being silly. My little girl would see me as the fountain of wisdom and advice. I would even handle the nappies and the constant demands of a helpless child with a smile as this was my unconditional love. I wouldn´t have any thoughts about the lack of privacy and the constant demands made by a child. I wouldn´t even think about the lack of self that I would develop. I was enveloped in a cloud of loveliness. The best love affair you could imagine.

The reality was something else. I have become something that I do not like. I find myself being disciplinistic and authoritarian. I tried the negotiation. 'Honey, lets sit down and see what is happening. I understand that you are upset about this, but you need to go to sleep. Let me sit by your bed and sing you lullabies until you fall to sleep'. 'No I want to stay up and drink wine too. You are so unfair. I don´t want you to be my Mummy. Go away. You make me cross.' I tried constant and fair discipline. I count to 3 in my sleep. My daughter knows her bedroom intimately. But in her bedroom she is a princess. She makes a castle. She is scorned by the evil witch. The evil witch must be punished......... I´m very sad to say that it ends in both of us screaming at each other. I feel angry and frustrated most of the time. My dreams have been shattered. No-one tells you about the realities of being a parent. No-one tells you that there will be times that you don´t like your children. or that you get so frustrated you want to shake them so hard but instead just yell and send them to their room. No-one tells you that you may reach a point whereby you look forward to the time when they are not around and you can sit with a class of wine and be quiet.

But just when you think that you know the status quo, a little one will come and snuggle into me, putting her arms around my neck. Not saying anything. But then she doesn´t have to. I´m her mummy and my baby has come back.

3 comments:

Ariane said...

I could never imagine having a son either. Of course I have two...

I now also have a daughter, and I am more worried about bringing her up than the boys...

I live by Tanya Byron's parenting advice, I like having concrete suggestions. :)

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