The other night while I was putting my daughter to bed, I started to think about how I was as a mother.
About how I parented.
What would my daughter say about me 16 years from now if she had a blog?
I don’t know that I would like it.
I’m not the fun one, I’m the stern one, always correcting, always ensuring the rules are followed, always making sure the line isn’t crossed.
The stick in the mud.
My husband, who balances me out, brings the fun, finds the adventure, balances with one foot carefully on the line, never crossing it but always walking it.
I watch them run in circles, laugh histerically, jump up an down, be daredevils, and my anxiety rises.
We have rules!
I want my daughter to have integrity, morals, manners, and act appropriately and somewhere along the way I designated myself to be the one who ensures she follows all of the rules all of the days.
No fun ever.
I’ve been throwing out no’s, don’t do that’s, that’s not polite’s, and what do you say’s, instead of allowing the fun to lead the way.
The rest will fall into place if I model the appropriate behaviour.
So in light of this I have decided to try to have more fun.
Let her see how to be appropriate from how I behave but know that I’m also able to laugh, play, and relax.
It won’t be easy because naturally I’m uptight but letting my shoulders fall might be a good thing for me as well.
And may just lead to a great summer.