A Fierce Mom

Before I became a mother, I declared that I wanted strong-willed, independent, free-thinking children. On several occasions since making that declaration, Gerald has reminded me of it. When each of our kids went through the temper tantrum stage, (you know, when they're somewhere between ages 2 and 3, and they so desperately want to do everything for themselves but can't possibly, and they know exactly what they want all the time only it changes second to second, and life becomes so frustrating and overwhelming that their only solution is to throw themselves down on the floor and kick and scream), Gerald would again remind me of my declaration. I wanted strong-willed, independent kids.

Now that our youngest is ten, it's easy for me to watch a three-year-old's fit with pure delight. "Wow," I think to myself. "What a beautiful tantrum!" I mean really, the child is demonstrating perfectly age-appropriate emotional development. Parents should rejoice! However, when I, myself, was the parent, the one carrying my child out of a store, my arms tightly circling his waist, his arms and legs flailing with every scream, well let's just say I didn't find it quite so "beautiful." As judgmental onlookers scowled at me with expressions of disgust, I wanted to throw myself down in a tantrum. I felt at times like the worst mom in the whole world. "Why can't I control this child?" I would ask. "You said you wanted strong-willed, independent children," Gerald would remind me. "And that is exactly what you got."

Thank goodness!

With wills of their own and the confidence to express their feelings without fear of punishment, they grew from tantruming toddlers into independent children and teens who had the courage to say no when faced with all sorts of undesirable temptations. Woo hoo! I couldn't be more proud. Yet, there is a flip side. With such independent spirits, they also felt able to make their own way in the world sooner than many kids do. I've observed families where the children stay close to home after graduating from high school. Many even continue to live at home as they attend college, work, or prepare for missions.

Not my children.

Each of them, one right after the other, made college plans early, worked hard through the summer following graduation, and took off immediately in the fall to begin the next chapter in their lives far away from home. Luke went to Whitman College, about five hours from Mt. Vernon. Both Shulamith and Isaiah went to Westminster, nine hours from Billings. Now we have Eli, who was my baby for seven years until we were blessed with Seth. The photo on this post is the one that will appear in the yearbook as his senior picture. Following his older siblings' example, he too feels ready to strike out on his own. On Oct. 23rd he will take the ACT exam, the first step in the application process for admission to BYU-Idaho in Rexburg, five hours away. Not only that, but Eli is also planning to submit his mission papers as soon as he can before turning 19 in March 2012. That is only 17 months from now, in case you're wondering.

Strong-willed, independent, free-thinking children. That's what I asked for, and that's what I got. I am thankful. I am so proud of each one of them, yet it pulls mightily at my heartstrings when they leave home at barely 18. I grieve every time. Over and over. A friend of mine, an older lady with no children of her own, once remarked: "Terrianne is a fierce mom." I have never felt more complimented. A fierce mom. Yes. Motherhood is not my sole vocation. I do some other things. I teach English classes. I exercise. I read. I shop. I travel. I socialize. I try to figure out new ways to look younger and thinner. I write a blog. However, none of these activities is remotely close in significance to my role as a mother. Nothing I do is more important, and nothing brings me more joy.

As I watch Eli prepare for next year, and I remember so clearly when he was Seth's age and we first moved to Billings, I wonder if I might alter my parenting strategy in some way, so when the time comes, Seth might stay home a little longer. Selfish? I know, but the thought has certainly crossed my mind. It's probably too late, though. At age 10, Seth already shows signs of being just like the others. He threw his share of toddler tantrums, and he now has no fear of expressing his opinions whether solicited or not. He's obviously not ready to face the world on his own, but he grows more independent every day.

"A fierce mom of strong-willed, independent, free-thinking children." You can put that on my tombstone when I die....that is, as long as you promise not to also put my birth date, unless you lie by at least 15 years. Glad we got that straight. Whew!