Hi. I’m your mom. I have one goal in this adventure called parenthood--to raise you to think your way through situations and make good choices that will lead you to productivity and a happy life. When I ask you to do something, there’s a good reason behind it. Sometimes, I can give you the simple reason and you can choose to understand or not based on the emotions of the moment and how high your hormone levels are. Sometimes, if I’m doing my job right, you can challenge my reason, and get me to see the situation from a perspective that I hadn’t seen before. Sometimes. If, however, you challenge me and I respond with, “Because I said so,” your best recourse is to shut up and get busy with whatever I just told you to do.
I know you though. I’ve watched you every day since I found out I was pregnant with you. I know that as soon as you hear “Because I said so” you brain misfires with the flat-out injustice of receiving such a vague answer that really tells you nothing. Chances are, you’ve ignored whatever simple answer I’ve already given you in favor of trying to weasel just a little more time doing your activity instead of whatever activity I’ve just asked you to complete. Chances are, I didn’t immediately respond with the dreaded “Because I said so” because that’s not my way. Again, my goal in this raising-you thing is to get you to understand why we have to do what we have to do. By the time I pull out the Because-I-said-so card, you’ve pushed me or something else has been making my day go wrong: I don’t have time to explain; I’ve tried to explain and you didn’t want to hear me; I have something else to do and I need this conversation to be over. Any of these are reasons I use this annoying expression. I hated it when my parents played it on me and, just like I’m sure you’ve vowed to do in your head, I swore I would never say it to my children. I would take the time to patiently explain until they understood, so that my child would’t feel this ridiculous frustration at not comprehending why my adult-activity was more important than their kid activity. You already know I’ve broken that promise to myself or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
I’ve spent much time teaching you the value of honesty. I’ve punished you for lying. I denied you privileges because you’ve broken my trust. I’ve modeled good behavior and spent so much time explaining family behavior versus societal behavior that I really hate that there’s a difference. You know how important honesty is to me, so you also know that for me to break a promise to myself, there must be some significant forces involved. There are. Quite simply I didn’t understand what my parents were saying with “Because I said so.” Now I do.
“Because I said so” is what I say when I simply don’t have the time or the energy to explain all the reasons behind whatever request I’ve made. There are reasons. Usually, there’s such a slew of reasons that I know you would lose track a few seconds into the explanation and never make it through the whole explanation. That’s the purpose of this conversation. To give you the background that I don’t have time to tell you when I ask you to get off the computer to clean your room. Or do your homework. Or feed the dog. Or go to bed. Or any of the other requests I make that result in a “why” from you.
My first reason for getting my way in everything is because I survived childhood. Heck, I survived puberty, something that still hasn’t been decided for you. I made my choices, some good, some bad. Guess what? You don’t know everything I’ve done and everything I’ve been through, just like I don’t know what goes through your head and all you’ve experienced. We only know what we share with each other and just like you hold back from me for whatever reason, like embarrassment or just because it’s none of my business, I don’t tell you many of the aspects of what I’ve gone through. I may tell you some when you’re older. I may not. Some things are just private. Some things require a level of maturity to comprehend. Some things are just too embarrassing to want to share with anybody, let alone the people I’m trying to guide in life.
I’m not saying you don’t have original thoughts. It’s possible. Chances are that I felt the same way about my parents that you feel about me. Whatever internal dialogue you’ve got going on in there when I frustrate you, I know I had a similar conversation with myself when my folks made me crazy. Those grandparents you see are not the same obnoxious, unyielding individuals who guided me into the reasonable adult I’ve become. I have some body-swapping theories about how aliens use the distraction of a grandchild’s birth to replace parents with grandparents, but that falls under a differently titled essay. Suffice it to say, they would have murdered me for the things they let you do. I’m pretty sure the hope of you is the only reason I’m still alive. I know the only thing keeping you breathing some days is the thought of the grandkids you’ll give me.
I’ve been through this hormonal stuff. I’m still going through my own hormonal stuff, though thank God it’s slowed down. Once those little boogers stop raging through your system, you’ll be able to see more clearly and use the reasoning skills I’m trying to get deep enough in there that they have a fighting chance against the hormones right now. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, about 80% of what you feel is chemical until you’re past puberty. It’s scientific fact. It’s also how I console myself that an end to the crazy, whiny things you do will eventually surface. Also, I’ll admit here, that despite my telling you that I was never that bad, I was. I can remember what it was like to feel so strongly and basically be out of control. I do remember. I learned to control it and then my body stopped harassing me with all those chemicals. I really was there. I prevailed. So will you. Part of what got me through was my parents losing their cool and tossing out “because I said so” because I was too out of control to realize it.
I have experienced so many things that you haven’t experienced yet. I’ve traveled. I’ve seen different cultures. Several different cultures. I’ve met so many people that I couldn’t begin to guess a number. Some of those people I liked and some of them I didn’t. Sometimes I didn’t even have a reason. I’ve learned to trust that small voice inside my head because the few times that I let the people around me talk me out of that voice’s perceptions, the voice has always been proven right. Always. You have that voice, too. When I was your age, it sounded a lot like your grandma. Nowadays, it sounds like your daddy. Regardless, it knows what it’s talking about. My experiences have made my voice smarter than yours. I better know what to look for in people to let me trust them. I’m able to see the big picture more clearly because the time I’ve lived has widened my perceptions. When you’ve seen as much as I’ve seen, your voice will be as smart as mine. Until then, “because I said so” will have to suffice in place of “because I just know so much more than you” some of the time.
Even after reading this letter you may not get why all these things play into “Because I said so.” I’m okay with that. I’ve done my job as a parent to present the information for you to think through. You don’t have to agree with me. Glory knows that I don’t agree with my parents all the time. I just wanted to sit down for once and take the time to explain because once upon a time, I promised myself that I would explain it all to my kids.
Did you understand it? Can you measure the experience and put it all together and process why doing that chore is so important at this time? I hope so. I hope I’ve raised you right and that you are smart enough to plow your way through this and honest enough that you can see two sides to every situation. I hope you are going back and evaluating what I say and reaching your own conclusions.
Ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter. I’ve earned my right to tell you what to do simply with the fact that I haven’t killed you yet, so now that you’ve finished this, please go work on whatever I’ve asked you to do that you didn’t want to do. If you’re not convinced that I have a good reason, don’t worry about it. Just do it because I said so.
No comments:
Post a Comment