Entries Tagged 'Mother-Daughter Emotional Osmosis' ↓

Children learn their most significant and lasting lessons about autonomy and independence before the age of five. As a child begins to test her legs in the world, most of her initial walking away is from her mother. With her newfound skills, the child feels elated. It is crucial that the mother share a child’s sense of accomplishment and elation and mirror it back to her. This helps to establish a bedrock sense of self-confidence. If a mother fails to do this, or doesn’t actively nudge her child away to enjoy her freedom, the daughter, depending upon her temperament, may end up finding it difficult to assert her independence and ability to go after what she wants in the world.

Christiane Northrup, Mother-Daughter Wisdom

Though I acknowledge that the culture at large plays a significant role in our views of ourselves as women, ultimately the beliefs and behavior of our individual mothers exert a far stronger influence. In most cases, she is the first to teach us the dictates of the larger culture. And if her beliefs are at odds with the dominant culture, our mother’s influence almost always wins.

Christiane Northrup MD,

Mother-Daughter Wisdom

One of the things I like least about being a parent is being unable to accurately predict how my children will feel about my decisions or parenting style in the future.

If I behave this way _____, they will behave this way _____.

If I don’t do this ______, they will feel this __________.

I find myself attempting to change or alter my first-instincts on parenting or over-thinking my parenting decisions based on how my children might feel later as teenagers or adults.

This appears to make sense.

Until I really get that there is no determining how people will feel in the future. There is a whole rainbow of feeling flavors to choose from in every situation, depending on temperament, mood, influences and let’s face it: choices.

My kids get to choose how they feel about my parenting. They can even change their minds mid-way through and decide that something they have been fine with previously, now sucks for them. They can re-alter history, as children have been known to do, and pull out my parenting decisions later so as to use them against me as evidence of my flawed parenting technique. I know, I did this to my parents, my mother especially.

No amount of over-thinking or mind-changing or future-predicting can save me from this.

It might be the biggest bummer in parenting.

Some examples: I try to get my children to watch what they eat and exercise so they can have healthy bodies. While walking the tightrope of body image and trying to control whether they feel good or bad about their bodies. If I put too much pressure on this I worry my daughter might feel like I don’t think she’s good enough or beautiful, but if I put too little pressure on this, I worry that she’ll later feel like I was a bad mom for not teaching her the proper ways to eat and exercise.

The reality, of course, is that I can only put some good opportunities (I nearly said “the right opportunities”) out there for her, but ultimately how she chooses to feel about her body is her responsibility.

I will sometimes re-examine my parenting decisions in “light” of “how she might feel about it someday.” Which is really dumb, because I can barely predict how I might feel about something someday. Sometimes I can barely muddle through feelings I’ve already had in the past. Also, as I grow older and learn the art of forgiveness and letting go, I understand that feelings change over time and they’ve always been my choice.

I certainly can’t predict how another person will choose to interpret their experience. Will they use it as a building block for a foundation of future resentments or achievements?

I know this to be true. I know that I can only make the best parenting decisions right now, based on current circumstances and I should trust my gut. But, I forget sometimes and try to bring out my emotional crystal ball and then let it dictate for me what the right parenting choice is.

Am I alone?

I’ve had the pleasure of being invited to a book club of truly creative, inspiring, interesting and strong women. Several of the members write and publish a new magazine – get born. It’s a bold, brave, creative look at mothering. Not just the “oh how sweet” parts, though there is that, but the parts you didn’t know were going to happen or the parts that make you a little ashamed of yourself for feeling.

I was touched by the below piece, printed with permission from the editor Heather Janssen, because I could relate so well to Carol Lang’s daughter’s habit of talking back “as if  my equal.” It begs the question, “Is this inevitable, no matter how frustrating and painful, if one is intent on raising a strong daughter? As opposed to the former, girls should be passive and docile and keep their opinions to themselves or just not have any strong opinions at all? Is this a natural progression in the mother-daughter relationship, if we want them to grow up willing and able to express themselves boldly? If so, how on earth are we, as their mothers, supposed to handle it internally?  Because really, sometimes it just sucks to be on the receiving end of it.”

get born is a magazine that deserves to thrive. To do that, it needs subscribers. At only 16.95 a year, for four issues, it’s a great bargain to open the pages and have the divine pleasure of knowing, “Thank God, I’m not the only one who has ever felt this way.”

The Impostor Mother

by Carol Lang

When I was a kid, I didn’t play house. I didn’t play with dolls.  I played kick-ball and climbed trees. I chased boys, rode my bike and roller-skated all over the neighborhood.

I was a Girl Scout, but did poorly in all things “traditionally domestic.”  My mom gave up after a while.

When I was older, I did babysit. The money was awesome and the time with kids short. I didn’t dislike the kids but mostly I liked staying up late and watching Saturday Night Live.

I went to college, studied math, computers, chemistry. Drank too much but got good grades. I met a boy.

Got a husband, and a career with lots of promise.

Husband said he knew I would want a family some day and he was comfortable, and confident, to wait.

I got pregnant. I cried. Husband celebrated. I pretended I wasn’t pregnant, most of the time.

I really wanted to keep working. I knew that was wrong. I planned a long maternity leave.

I became a mother. I wasn’t prepared. I had absolutely no freaking idea what I was supposed to do with the amazing miracle my body had created. So precious. So fragile. A piece of my heart outside of my body (Elizabeth Stone).

I read. I read a lot. Good mothers are smart mothers, well educated mothers.   I spent money — on the “right” toys, “right” foods, “right” products, “right” activities.

All my mother friends seem so confident, so on top of things.  Their babies so perfect. Perfectly wonderful, or perfectly horrible. Mine just are.  We mothers play a game. It’s competitive, ruthless. I am uncertain of  the rules but I play.  A game of extremes:  best or worst; smartest or dumbest; strongest or weakest.  No average. No middle. I compete, fiercely. I only lose.

Along came Baby #2. And, #3.

What am I thinking? There’s no way I can handle all this. What made me think I could serve, protect, love three priceless, precious beings?

Babies are getting bigger, older. Challenges are growing, too. I feel pressure to find solutions.  I keep going.

I get promoted. And, promoted again. I am surprised this is happening. I am scared all the time. I wonder a lot about priorities.

I can organize. I can plan. I am over-protective, control-freaked, and obsessive about every detail.  Babies are active, and involved in many activities, maybe too many, maybe not enough. I can feel things start to unravel, but I must keep going. I must keep them going. Good foods, family dinners, homework in on time, to bed on time, clean bodies and clean clothes. And, myself, I must smile – stay calm, relaxed. My heart pounds out of my chest. I hope no one will see.

I am faking it. Every day I fail to meet the measure, meet the expectations.

I hate you, mom. You’re a bitch. Leave me alone.

Quiet, shhhh – someone will hear you and I’ll be found out.

My oldest son fails geometry.

My younger son lies, a lot.

My daughter is full of sass, rebellious and recalcitrant. She talks back as if my equal.

The paint is coming off the walls and there are more weeds in the gardens than flowers.

I look over my shoulder.  I worry I will be exposed, the imposter mother.   I fear for my babies.  Am I good enough for them?

Subscribe to get born.

There’s a tape about money playing in your head.

It might sound like this: Money doesn’t grow on trees. You have to work hard for money. Poor people are more moral, more kind, or more generous than rich people. Rich people got there by cheating. Rich people are corrupt and selfish. People on Wall Street are greedy. I hate rich people. I’m a starving artist. I always work for free. My jobs never pay me enough. I can’t afford it. . . .

There’s a tape playing about your body in your head.

It might sound like this: Skinny Bitch, I hate skinny people. If I were skinny I’d have everything I want. I hate people who can eat whatever they want. Looks shouldn’t matter. Beauty is about what’s on the inside, it shouldn’t be about what we look like. There’s no correlation between being skinny and being healthy. You can be healthy at any weight. People discriminate against fat people. Fat people are nicer than skinny people. Skinny beautiful people are mean and rude . I look like I’m pregnant. My thighs are huge. I hate my body. I’m like a fat cow. . .

Which is fine.

As long as you’re okay with staying fat and poor.

If you’re aiming to become rich and thin, those tapes are a problem. They’re keeping you fat and poor. It’s a self-defeating habit. It doesn’t impact skinny, rich people at all.

Now, I’m done being fat and poor. It’s far more fun and exciting to be thin and rich. More choices, better kinds of attention, more strut in my walk, more confidence in my being, more swing in my hips, better swagger, more freedom, nicer stuff, better ways to spend my days, better food from every angle, more excitement, more liberating, more freedom.

To get there, I have to reprogram my brain back to being a thin person.

I was a thin person before. I’m a naturally thin person. I love being thin. It feels good to move my body when it’s lighter. I love buying clothes. I feel healthier. I have more energy. I adore getting on the scale. I feel great when I pull on my favorite pair of jeans. I love skinny people. Skinny people are awesome and fun and funny. I love eating healthy foods. I love exercise, running, yoga, biking, hiking. weight training, pilates, and swimming.

I love living in abundance. I love having more choices. My choices control my money. I am great with money. Money grows on trees – what DO you think it’s made of?  I love that my accounts grow while I am sleeping. I have everything I need and want. I can buy that if I want to. I can have that if I want. Money comes easily and frequently. Money helps me serve my purpose.

It’s especially useful to retrain your brain if you have a daughter. Think back to your mother’s beliefs about money and bodies – your thoughts are probably not so unique. Most likely, they’re inherited and then supported by evidence of your share experiences.

Change your own thoughts and change your daughter’s body and money messaging inheritance. What could be a better motive?

I can help you reprogram your brain. Contact me at traceesioux@gmail.com for Life Coaching.