If I Didn't Love You

     I can remember being a middle schooler and beginning to truly be at odds with my mom.  There were other girls wearing make up and having boy friends and actually going out on parent chaperoned dates (yes, in middle school).  If my mom said no to me once, she said it a thousand times!  I didn't agree with her then.  I bless her, now!
     She used to say, "If I didn't love you, I'd let you."  As an eleven year old, I understood what she meant, I just didn't care for it.  Bottom line, I still wasn't getting my way.  Although I knew she was saying no out of love, I didn't like it.  Not one bit.  I would give her the repetitive speech, "But so-and-so's mom is letting her."  Mama never faltered.  She's respond, "Well, so-and-so's mom doesn't love her the way I love you."
     Years later, and now I'm the mom.  And, of course, my mother's words are ever springing from my own heart.  More than once I have told my ten year old the same thing that Mama told me, "If I didn't love you, I'd let you."  In essence, what I am saying is, "If I didn't love you, I'd let you do anything you want.  If I didn't love you, I'd let you have your say and your way about whatever you'd like.  But, because I love you, I am not afraid to hurt your feelings.  Because I love you, I am determined you will NOT always have your way.  You will have to face consequences for your actions.  I will be here as you face them - you are not alone - but you will face them.  Now is the time you learn to become a strong, character filled, young man of integrity.  Not later.  Later is too late.  My love for you compels me to stand up to your childish, foolish, unbridled desires.  I'm not controlling you - I'm leading you, and one day you will lead yourself.  And when that day comes, you will finally understand my love.  It is not some feeling I have for you - it is the driving force in my raising you.  It is my motherly vocation, if you will, to love you - purposefully.  It will not always be what you expect, but I promise you this: it will never let you down."
     I see way too many parents who have been misguided by social whims that preach on many levels through many venues that being the parent is equal to being the buddy.  I see moms living vicariously through their daughters.  This was obvious when a friend recently posted a question on facebook asking for opinions on our school system using uniforms.  Most parents were for it.  But the ones that were not were mothers and each mentioned similarly that they enjoyed shopping with their daughters for cute clothes for school, etc.  What they couldn't see in themselves is that their objections to the uniforms had nothing to do with their daughters.  It had everything to do with themselves.  That's the problem with parents overdoing it in the "buddy" category.  They are doing everything they can to not disappoint little Chase or Ashtyn/Ashton/Ashtin (...what????  Using "Johnny" or "Susie" doesn't register any more ... gotta get with the program ... and the updated names!).  Afraid their child will stop liking them, they pull back, softening their discipline if not letting go of it altogether.  Instead of restriction or whatever punishment might fit their child's "crime", they opt for a chocolate milkshake to make it all better and smooth out the wrinkles.
     Let me stop and say that there are times when mending is the right thing to do.  I have had a few school mornings when, after dropping my child off at school after a miserable morning, I turned right around, went back to the school and asked to see him.  Those times have been few and far between, but have resulted when he took the brunt of my bad attitude, when my morning was awful and I took out my frustration on him.  Bottom line, when I am in the wrong and bring the hurtful feelings on my child, then I believe it is my responsibility to make it right by admitting my fault and asking for forgiveness.  It's part of leading by example.  I will stand my ground when he is wrong.  But when I am, I must admit it.
     I disappointed my oldest son this morning.  I told him I loved him when he got out of the van.  He just mumbled something back ... I think I may have heard "love" and "too" in there somewhere.  His eyes were a little misty.  My compassion for him rose.  And I drove away.  I am confident that this afternoon I will be greeted with a smile and maybe even some laughter.  And knowing my son, there will be an apology for his attitude of this morning.  And we will go on .... and he will be one step closer to manhood.  All because I loved him.