Yeah, Yeah, Yeah... Whatever

A few years ago, probably before my son started school, I came across a book in the bargain aisle at Barnes and Nobles. Now, I normally don't like bargain aisles because I'm a bit of a condescending snob towards the books that get placed there. I can't help thinking they must be worthless compared to the ones sold at full price. That said, I have bought books from there and will continue to do so, since I do not prefer reading new releases just because everyone I know is reading them. I like time to pass, the book to become mysteriously irresistible, and then I pick it up.

Because I Said So by Camille Peri and Kate Moses is a collection of essays written by various famous and not so famous mothers on (what else?) children, faith, aging, sex and the relationships we have with those around us. I have read it a few times, laughing out loud at some things, implementing some ideas in my home, and sharing others with friends. I'm an advocate of candidness. No matter how outspoken and shocking, I'd rather surround myself with honest people than with those who say one thing and mean another.

This entry is not about the book though. Nor is it about my criteria for friendships. It is rather about the power struggles between mother and son and mother and daughter that go on in every house. Until my daughter was born, I had it easy. My son and I were so attuned to each other, that I'd mentally scorn every friend I had who complained about not understanding their kids, vowing I'd never end up like them. They yelled and yelled. I just had to give him a look. (I have this negative obsession of persistently comparing myself to others, determining my place on some obscure hierarchy of motherhood, but that is another subject for another day.) Well, then I had a daughter and it was like God said: "Time to pay up for that pompous, conceited, superior attitude, girl. And maybe a little for all the heartache you caused your mother."

With my daughter every request is met with: "No! I don't want to do it! Okay?!?" In the beginning it was cute and my husband and I tried to keep straight faces, happy that she was an early talker. Proud that she was smart. Right now we're wondering if maybe she isn't a little too smart. Or I should say, isn't too much of a smart mouth. Resistance on every issue, disregard for her brother's toys (or her mother's shoes), always a quick comeback. The list goes on and on. My husband likes to remind me that I wanted a girl and I got a girl, and of course since I'm the only other female in the house she's mirroring me.

True, children absorb what they see. But our son is growing up in our house too, and I don't see him becoming a mini version of his dad. And we were so sure of our excellent parenting techniques that we didn't deviate exploring other routes. On the one hand, I am happy that she's so sure of herself, meaning (hopefully) that she won't be as susceptible to peer pressure. On the other, this tug-of-war wears me down and I try to be patient, hoping it's just a phase she'll outgrow. And yes, I do yell. There, I've admitted it. I count to 10, then 20, and so on. But mostly I pray for guidance to do the right thing. And, hopefully, continue to learn from my mistakes and the mistakes of others.