Reflections from the Kitchen Sink on Parenting

So some of you might think I am crazy strict and a bit out of the loop with contemporary parenting techniques, but I’m going to share two of my most recent verbal exchanges with my older son anyway, examples of teen drama from Campbell-land. (Hold your applause or boos until the end of the story, please.)

It was probably a year after his dad died that my then 15-year-old tried to express his manhood (well, wannabe-manhood) and tell me “no” to a simple request. He also tried to intimidate me a smidgen because he had grown to a little bit taller height than his less than petite mom. (I’m 6’ for those taking notes.) I swiftly reminded my boy that he lived in my house and would play the game by my rules. Rule #1: “I always win.” I wasn’t kidding. He knew I wasn’t kidding. He backed down pretty quickly and rerouted the conversation. (Exit pouty child stage left.)

Fast forward three years, and now my boy is a man according to the number 18. Ta da. (Sounds of royal horns welcoming the King can be heard from the distance.)

Now I will say, I have a pretty open conversation rule. My kids can express their opinions even if they contradict mine IF they state those opinions in a nice tone and using appropriate language. That’s fair, I think. That’s about as “new wave” as I can be, I’m just telling you. Anymore than that, and it is past my pay grade. I didn’t receive training on the soft, be-their-sweet and always agreeable-friend parenting method. It ain’t gonna happen. It just got seriously real if I drop the a-word. (Cue gasps from the audience.)

Ironically, I was just recounting these instances I will share momentarily with a friend today. Each time, her eyebrows raised, there was a pause, then she chuckled a bit. My friend knows me. She knows my kids. I’m sure she saw the play-by-play in her mind. (Dim the stage lights.)

Incident number one had to do with freedom of expression. My man-child had expressed his opinion on a topic. I had received his opinion and stated what would happen instead. He at this point decided that repeating himself would change my mind. I stared blankly at the man-child who proceeded to say his peace yet again. When I calmly retorted we would stick with the original plan, he emphatically said, “Well, so much for freedom of speech.” I swiftly agreed with him. I said that was a gift upon which our great nation was founded, but as dictator of Campbell-land, there were limits, and my way was the plan of the day. Man-child was visibly displeased, but life went on. (Play melancholy version of the national anthem.)

Incident number two focussed on yet another “right.” My boy wasn’t keen on going somewhere with his brother and me the other day. There are some things his father and I made a pattern of and considered a responsibility though, and as chief cook and bottle washer of Campbell-land, I now take lead on those practices. After again trying the broken record of persuasion, he was greeted with my saying, “Thank you for your thoughtful input. Get in the car.” My boy immediately shared his disgust of what he called my diminishing the gift of “free will.” Then, he got in the car. (Protagonist slams door and huffs and puffs like the Big Bad Wolf.)

Before you send in my nomination for “Mean Mom of the Year,” please note that my boy got over both moments quickly. The world kept turning. Flowers continued to bloom somewhere on the planet. He told me he loved me at bedtime. My point is that standards matter. Holding kids to general standards of respect isn’t mean. Certainly there can be things managed too harshly, but that wasn’t the case in either incident I shared. In my crossing over into the days of “when I was a kid” reminiscent moments, I see flickers of my parents’ management skills. I feel like a mom-fail so often, but holding to my core is all I know to do. (Cue Mr. Rogers’s train whistle and bell tune as curtains close.)

Oftentimes, the lesson of the contemporary world doesn’t roll with the tide in my home. I’m okay running counter to that. Will my kiddos be frustrated with me? There have been and will be plenty of instances of that, but hopefully, there will be more times when they are parents themselves my boys will have some a-has and think back to their dad and me and understand why we did and said things. Yeah, that’s the moral of the story.

I have often heard parenting isn’t for the faint at heart. I think solo parenting through the teen years is holding my feet to the fire for sure. It is also improving my prayer life as I linger at this sink a little longer some days. Hold firm and carry on, fellow parents (and grandparents) of teens!! And maybe grab an extra cup of coffee before you hunker down for the day 🙂

Until next time…

Bio-Melinda Campbell is a retired educator who currently focuses her efforts on raising her two teenaged boys, advocating for individuals with special needs and against drunk driving, and serving in her local community. Melinda has been gaining recognition for her writings labeled “Reflections from my Kitchen Sink” since the tragic death of her husband Michael in 2015. In her stories, she shares observations from her daily life including moments she has as a solo parent, a widow, and a woman who battles significant health issues including fibromyalgia and depression. BIG ANNOUNCEMENT- New Kitchen Sink Merchandise-Click Here?