I’ve been married for 12 years and a mother for almost nine. It occurred to me recently that some lessons that I’ve learned as a parent are equally applicable to my role as a spouse.
Pick Your Battles.
If I didn’t pick my battles as both a wife and a mother, I’d roll around the house like a rubber stress ball, bouncing off the walls and missing all of the fun. My youngest son is convinced that if I cut his nails, I’ll sever his fingers and blood will gush everywhere. Irrational, yes, but not worth fighting over. I now cut all nails while he’s sleeping. This lesson also explains why there’s not a fabulous silver and white trellis-patterned wallpaper in my bathroom. My husband doesn’t like it, and it’s not a battle worth fighting. (That doesn’t mean that I won’t keep trying to convince him, however).
Be Engaged; Be Interested; Be Present.
Sometimes, I just don’t care. I’m not interested in the baseball or football play that my husband claims I just have to see as he happily replays it for me. And, sometimes, I’m not in the mood for a play-by-play description of a movie scene that can only make eight year olds laugh. It’s true; sometimes, I just want to be left alone with my magazine or trash television show that I recorded a week ago and have yet to watch. I’ve realized, however, that the magazine will always be there, but these moments will not, so I put down what I’m doing and engage with my big or little boys, listening intently as they share something. It’s important to me because it’s important to them.
Tone is Everything.
Apologize When You’re Wrong.
It’s really not that hard to do. If I’m wrong, I say it. I’m not a perfect wife or mother, and I don’t pretend to be. I expect apologies from my loved ones when they mess up, so I better talk the talk when the time comes. The words I’m sorry with a hug go a long, long way.
They’ll Never Appreciate Everything I Do.
Neither my husband nor children will ever truly understand everything that I pack into a day. For a while, I got frustrated that everyone in the house didn’t acknowledge or appreciate the mental laundry list of times that I had checked off my to-do list, most of which benefited them. They’re not trying to be insensitive; because they don’t do all of these things, they cannot fully comprehend the multi-tasking juggling act that is required to get it all done. So be it. They love me, so it’s all good; I file this one away with the mantra “breathe, accept, and move on.”
Don’t take them to Target.
I’ve learned to resist the urge. There’s no such thing as a family fun outing to Target. Let’s face it, I’d rather be there alone, strolling the aisles with a vanilla latte while I take in the latest arrivals in home décor. My boys – big and small – aren’t wired for browsing, so it’s best to leave them at home so they don’t ruin my trip down the clearance aisle. Reserve the zoo for family fun outings; keep Target trips for myself.
Our Standards for Clean Differ.
The amount of pee on the toilet seat is unacceptable, but that doesn’t mean my complaining about it is going to magically improve their aim. That’s all that needs to be said about that.
A Bad Day is Simply a Bad Day.
I am not responsible for everyone’s moods in the house. Period. Bad moods come and go and it’s best to let them follow their own path toward the light. I’ve stopped taking bad moods personally and, instead, give my boys the space they need to step out of it on their own. In fact, these days might be the perfect time to go to Target. Alone.
