The
other day, Ethan and I were waiting for Alice to come out of her gymnastics
class. The class that comes in after hers is full of bigger kids, I’d guess
around 3rd or 4th graders. I love to eavesdrop on them,
and also their parents because there is always juicy stuff about what happened
at school that day (and I am a total sucker for school gossip). Well, as I was
eavesdropping on this particular mom with her son, I got to thinking not about
what they were saying, but about the tone that they used with each other. The
woman was using what I can only describe as her ‘tired mom voice’. The son
responded in kind, with his ‘bored kid voice’. My thought was, “I hope I don’t
sound like that when I talk to my kids.”
Alice and I talking over some clay creations
When
I think of my mom’s voice, it’s always with a little chuckle (sorry mom!).
Early on, I remember her voice reading one of our favorite books, Animals
Should Definitely NOT Wear Clothing. Her voice was strong and clear,
engaged in the ridiculous story. Later in my life, I recall her voice sort of
sing-songy as she tried to help me memorize the multiplication tables in the
kitchen after school. Around 15 years old, she would call out to me as I left
the house, “MAKE GOOD CHOICES”, and I could tell from her tone that she meant
it every single time she said it. And to this day, when I think of my mom’s
voice, it is usually bursting into some made up song that she sings at the TOP
of her lungs (she used to drink a pretty intense amount of coffee…).
My point is, my mother’s voice is expressive, communicative, engaged. That is what I want my kids to
hear from me as well.
My momster reading to Ethan. Look at their faces!
I
want to convey that I am there; I am present in the conversation. I know we will have the old stand-by “how was
your day?” “fine” kind of moments. But I don’t want that to be the norm. Yes, I
am very tired. I was up all night nursing a toddler and then out of bed early
when my preschooler knocked politely on my door. Yes, I pretty much just wanted
to growl when her little face peeked into the doorway. But the truth is, I
would seriously miss that little face if I didn’t see it tomorrow morning. So,
I stifle the growl and greet her the way that I would like her to remember when
she’s 30 years old. GOOD MORNING, ALICE B!
I love this post. And it says a lot not only about being a parent and being aware of your behavior having a future impact, but of being a person in society. It is something for me to think about whenever I engage with anyone and how I want to be remembered by them especially as a single lady looking for a potential mate. Great thinking point!
ReplyDeleteI also love this post. How had I not discovered your blog sooner, madam? Ahem. This is a lovely meditation on matriarchal transference. I think you might enjoy learning how I felt the same reverence for my mom and picked a fine memory to focus on -- adventuring in her closet. http://mommytheorist.wordpress.com/2011/05/20/the-mystique-of-moms-closet/
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