Friend or fear?

"I'm my daughter's best friend."

This is the statement that bought a girlie catch-up I was at recently to a screeching halt. The woman speaking has a teenage daughter, and a quite permissive relationship with her, something that has been commented on by us to her before.

She stated this in the context that she was never going to be able to stop her daughter getting up to all the hi-jinks she did as a kid; drinking, going off with boys, experimenting with drugs etc., so she would rather have the kind of relationship where her daughter felt safe enough to talk to her about anything she got up to.

Another friend of mine, with a daughter the same age, piped up with, "Well, I'd rather my daughter was scared enough of me she didn't do it in the first place".

Many swift and silent glances were exchanged between the rest of us, quickly followed by a quick gulp of champagne as we gleefully settled in to watch the fireworks fly. I know, terrible aren't we?

Suffice to say, a spirited exchange of views ensued.

It got me thinking though, about the type of parent I want to be as my daughter grows older and hits those perilous teenage years. I think the groundwork for these years is being laid even now at three years old. My Gorgeous Girl really is a pretty good kid, but she can really turn it on when she's feeling feisty; backchat, tantrums, throwing, hitting out at me - you name it.

And already I have decided: I don't want to be her friend.

I want to be her Mum. I want her to realise just how slavishly devoted to her I am, how desperately I love her... and that I will not hesitate to send her to her room when she's acting bratty.

I would love to have the kind of relationship when she's older where she will still feel she can talk to me about whatever is going on in her life, but I think there needs to be a background of respect there, and that starts now. She will learn she can trust me, there is nothing she can do that will make me love her less, but that she will be held accountable for her behaviour, she will know what is right and what is wrong, and I will expect her to make good choices. When she doesn't make good choices, I'll be there to help her fix it, but she will have to take responsibility for her actions. God, I hope I can live up to this ideal in reality.

I remember back to when I was a teenager (and a bit of a hellraiser myself). I had friends with Mums who wanted to be liked by their daughters as a friend, rather than loved like a Mother. Although now my relationship with my Mum is more like friendship, back then she also wasn't interested in being my friend; she was my Mum. As much as I loved her, wholeheartedly, and knew she loved me, she wasn't scared of saying no and having me hate her (briefly) for it. Thank God. I got up to a fair bit of trouble as a kid, was never into drugs luckily, but did the whole teenage rebellion thing fairly well. I shudder to think what I would've done had I not been terrified of the wrath of my parents!

I had a friend at the time, the only child of quite eldery parents, who were so grateful to have a child, they let her get away with anything. She was boasting to me once about how her parents were about as tough as bunny rabbits; they let her go out late at night, aged 14, to meet up with older boys, they never questioned what she got up to, where she was going, or even whose house she actually stayed over at when she said she was at mine. As she was boasting about this, all I remember thinking was, "God, don't they care about you at all?".

So, for me, my views on motherhood are a bit less bunny-like and more like a lioness: I will love you fiercely, I will fight tooth and nail to protect you and I will raise you to be a mighty creature to be reckoned with in your own right, but I will also not hesitate to roar at you and show my claws when needed.

Cougar vs Lioness

Okay. A confession. Even though I am a fully fledged, bona-fide grown-up, I still get a little intimidated by groups of teenage boys. Especially, like today, when I have to touch one of them up.

No. No Cougar Alert necessary.

So I'm walking with GG at the local swimming pool for our swimming lesson, and the place is SWARMING with high school kids, especially the man-boy variety. You know the type... practically full-grown, with 2 year old brains, full of bravado and braggadocio.

These are the ones that still make me nervous, a left-over from when I was hot and blonde, and had to be on my guard. Now of course, I'm a fatty-bow-batty and therefore, thankfully, invisible. Although maybe I really did become invisible today, because as we are walking along a passageway, one of these man-boys, fully engrossed in telling a story that seemed to mainly involve the words "and shit" and leading a pack of 5 or 6 similar man-boys, was walking along, back to us, and he was about to mow down little GG.

So I did the polite little, "Whoops, 'scuse us!"... didn't hear me. Then I did a louder "ExCuse Me!", he glanced over his shoulder, and kept going. Okay... Mummy hackles up.

Right before he is about to run over my 2 year old daughter, I shout "HEY!" and slam the heel of my hand right in the small of his back. This stops him in a big hurry, and he and his mates smack into each other, domino-style.

ohshitohshitohshitohshit

He spins around, all arked up and WTF'ed. I'm shitting myself, but I always give good front. He's embarrased, and his mates are laughing at him, not how man-boys like to be perceived. Makes them tetchy. I'm trying to go for light, but pretty sure I'm glaring, "Whoops, 'scuse us".

He mumbles something and moves to let us pass. Phew.

A Break in Time

A friend of mine's 11 year old broke her leg yesterday. She was just riding her bike, and came off when their family dog was in the wrong spot at the wrong time. Just one of those things that happen to kids all the time, it's not nice, but she'll be fine.

I was round there today and have noticed a big change in my friend, her Mum. S has always said she's not a 'mumsy' mum, she's a great mum, don't get me wrong, but she's what I like to call a Lioness Mum. Fiercely protective of her kids, loves them to pieces, but not so much a 'baby-er' of her kids now that they're older. And she's raised great, smart, independent kids. A even wanted to go to school today, thigh cast and all, because she's not one to mope around, she's a doer.

I noticed today though, and last night when I was on the phone to S, this nuturing side of her come out. Her whole voice and demeanour change when she talks to A, she is hopping and fetching for her without complaint and is constantly watching her face, like she's looking for signs of pain. She's still S though, cracking jokes and seeing the humour in it, but only now she knows she'll be fine.

When I was 14 I was hit by a car, and lucky to escape with a badly broken leg. I was in external traction (metal bolts drilled into the bone and sticking out my shin!!) and in bed for like a month, then in a cast and then a walking cast for the rest of the year, and this happened in April. I think I'm only just getting now how hard that must've been for Mum. And Dad, this big, boofy bloke with huge hands, who was the only one I'd let sponge my leg, because he was able to do it so delicately I'd barely feel a thing. I guess it's not just Mums who step up when their kids need them. :)

Get well soon A.