Recent studies show that having siblings is bad for a child’s self esteem!
You don’t believe me?
Well, it comes from a reputable source -
My Childhood!

Today I received an email spam about some e-book to “Protect Your Child’s Self Esteem”.
I was curious and took a look at the site.
I then proceeded to follow links to read more about protecting and maintaining my child’s self esteem.
Let’s take a look at some of the information that seemed pretty common sense to me.

1. Offer unconditional love
   (Wow, what genius wrote this article!)
2. Be a good role model and show that you have good self esteem
   So I should stop tweeting about *smacking my forehead*
   That’s not setting a good “self-esteem” role model.
3. Listen to your children
   I understand that.
   But seriously, after the 100th time of “Mom, he did this. Mom, she did this. Mom…”
   Well, this mom isn’t in the listening mood!

And the list continued on like this.

The list had things I did/tried to do as a parent.
But aren’t these just common sense things most parents do?
Anyway.

Then I read the list of things to NOT do.
I realized it.
Everything they said NOT to do had been done to me.
But they had been done by my siblings or because I had siblings.

Ways Having Siblings Harmed My Self-Esteem
1. My siblings called me names
   Hurtful names like “chubby”.
2. They were quick to point out my faults
   Apparently I have a big forehead and long neck.
3. They reminded me of mistakes I made and embarrassed me.
   Yeah, remember that time when she…
4. They were always better than me.
   My brother is some kind of freak genius kid.
   He’s the could’ve-skipped-a-grade-read-the-encyclopedia-for-fun type of genius.
   My sister could write phenomenal stories and poems.
   She pretty much taught herself to play piano and guitar.
   Yeah, I had to actually take lessons.
5. And the list can go on and on.

Truth is, I love my siblings.
I loved being the youngest of three.
This “teasing” was just that – sibling teasing.
They may have picked on me but they also protected me.
You know the old “I can pick on my sister but no one else can” idea.
Ask the girl from high school who ended up with a smashed car window.
Mess with me and you get my crazy sister after you!
(Sis, I meant crazy in the nicest sense of the word)

So put down the books, don’t buy the magazines save the money from that class.
Instead, hug your kid, laugh at their jokes and go for a bike ride with them.
Parent them confidently and for the rest, do the best you can but don’t worry.
The minute Baby No. 2 popped out you doomed them both to teasing and feelings of inadequacy.
And parenting will never be the same!

Hawaii - 1982

Do I look like I have a big forehead and long neck?
(And what’s with my brother’s socks?!)

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Just one phone call.
It made me stop.

Stop busying away my hours and days.
Stop wishing for balance in my “hectic” life.
Stop running through life from one task to another.
Stop measuring my day’s success by items checked off on my to-do list.

Just one phone call.
His cousin passed away earlier that day.
She was in her early 40’s.
She had already beaten breast cancer.
They found this new cancer just a few weeks prior.
But it was decades too soon.
Now there is a husband raising his four young boys without their mother.

Just one phone call.
I’ve created more balance instead of just “wishing” for it to somehow magically appear.
I’ve unscheduled more hours of my day so I can enjoy my family and my life.
I’ve spent more time giving hugs and kisses.
I’ve measured my day’s success by the giggles and meaningful conversations I’ve had.

Just one phone call.

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The Girl had lessons in school this year about “touching”.
There was a guest speaker who talked to the kids about all sorts of safety issues.
Bike safety.
Car safety.
Personal safety.

The personal safety lessons were great.
They went over good touch and bad touch with the kids.
They worked on empowering the kids to say no.
They discussed telling an adult if something like that happened.

After each lesson a letter would be sent home explaining what they talked about in class.
Then as a parent I am supposed to talk to my child at home about the lesson, go over what they learned and see if there are any questions.

So the next day The Girl’s walking up the stairs and I playfully swat her behind to hurry her up.
She turns to me, shakes her head and says…
“Mom, now I have a touching problem.”
“What?”
“You touched my private part…my butt…now I have a touching problem.”
“But it was just playful. I didn’t mean to.”
She’s still eyeing me suspiciously.
I try to rationalize with her.
“Well, I am sorry. I should not have done that.”
“Um hum”
That’s when things start to go downhill…fast.
I try to dig myself out of this mess but instead I say -
“So now don’t go telling your school you have a touching problem. I mean, not that it’s a secret. Because it isn’t a secret. But don’t tell your school I told you to keep it a secret. Because there’s nothing to keep secret. But don’t go telling your school that you have a touching problem because you don’t. I just swatted you…”
She starts to laugh.

I give up!

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Sometimes a mom just wants to take a picture.
Sometimes you’d think I was asking for world peace.

The Kid had a promotion ceremony as he prepares to leave elementary school for middle school.
It was a fun ceremony.
As each student walked across the stage a teacher read the child’s top 3 memories from elementary school.
For all the families who were leaving elementary school (if this was their youngest child) then the child presented their parent with a flower.
That was very sweet.
The ceremony ended with a photo memory dvd of the kids.
The Kid’s picture was first and then quite a few more throughout.
He thought it was embarrassing.
I almost kinda started to tear up.

After the sweet ceremony I wanted a picture.
Nothing too fancy schmancy just a picture of The Kid with Dad.
Who knew how difficult that would be.
So begins…

My Quest For A Normal Picture

“Ah, Mom. Do I have to?”
“Yes. Come on, just one picture.”
I get this..

“No. Normal smile not that silly rabbit look. I don’t want a picture of you looking like a rabbit and sticking your teeth out. Just a normal picture, please.”
At which point I get this..

“What silly rabbit look? Dad, does this look silly?”
“Come on, kid. Just one normal smile, please!”
So he tries the look on Dad.  I get this…

He turns back around and…
*This is when I decide to just walk away*

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Back in the old days…
(AKA a few years ago)
It was easy for me to describe myself.
Catholic
Republican
Pro Life
Work-at-home mom or…
Stay-at-home mom or…
Working mom
Public school mom or
Homeschooling mom or
Virtual schooling mom

But things somehow at some time got all jumbled up.
I started to realize that life wasn’t so easily defined.
I started to realize that I didn’t like some of the labels I put on myself.

So where does that leave me?
I’m here.
I’m me.
I am a wife and mother.
I’ll gladly keep those labels and wear them proudly.
I am a business owner.
I’ll gladly wear that one since I worked hard earning it!
Beyond that it’s all up for grabs.

I agree with the Catholic Church sometimes and I am angered by it other times.
I agree with the Republican Party sometimes and I am angered by it other times.

I would never have an abortion.
I would never take that option away from another person.
I’ve seen too many children hurt and killed by people who never should have been parents.

I have worked part-time outside of the home since my kids have been born.
I hope to never have to do that again.
I believe every parent has to make the decision that is best for their family.
I respect their decisions and I don’t hold it against them.

We actually “virtual schooled” and it’s a funny situation.
When you “virtual school” the homeschoolers don’t accept you.
When you “virtual school” the public schoolers don’t accept you.
You’re like the freak in the neighborhood nobody “gets”.
My kids are in public school and love it.
But they’re in good public schools.
If we lived somewhere else we might still be the freaks in the neighborhood nobody gets.
Thank God for good public schools.

I’m done with the labels.
I’m done trying to set in stone my opinions.
I’m free to think what I want.
I’m free to feel as I do.
And for all the rest – I’m free to let it all go!

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