It often feels like I’m echoing the words of my own mother when I find myself repeating common directives to my children. Phrases like:
- “Chew with your mouth closed.”
- “Don’t pick your teeth.”
- “Put your napkin on your lap.”
- “Make your bed.”
- “Clean your room.”
These reminders, once so irritating to hear as a child, have become a source of frustration as a parent. As a kid, I viewed these instructions as personal attacks, and each correction stung my pride. However, I now recognize that those lessons ultimately cultivated my good manners and language skills—thank you, Mom, for those countless times I was told to pick up a book instead of complaining about boredom.
Being a parent means guiding our children, acting as living audiobooks of social etiquette, despite the occasional missing pages in our own instruction manual. As the eldest of eight siblings, I used to think my mother was overly strict with me. Now, having my own children, I see her approach was more about instilling values. While I was scrutinized for my table manners, my younger siblings’ behaviors seemed less regulated. For instance, my youngest child’s charming antics, like licking his plate, prompted laughter instead of correction.
Interestingly, my older two children, having adhered to stricter cleaning routines, maintain tidy rooms. Their clothes find their way into hampers, and beds are made regularly. Yet, one might assume that this standard would naturally extend to the younger two. But alas, that assumption is entirely misguided.
My 18-year-old daughter, Julia, and my 12-year-old son, Max, are delightful individuals—laid-back and humorous. However, their messy habits are a stark contrast to their siblings. Max, while not academically challenged, often leaves his space in disarray. Julia, my perpetually messy daughter, has a unique way of managing her laundry, often opting to scatter her dirty clothes around her room, perhaps believing they are “airing out.” Despite her chaotic room, Julia is far from lazy; she balances three jobs and an honors class schedule. Yet, her desk often resembles a disaster zone, filled with empty water bottles and snack wrappers.
Over the years, I’ve expended a lot of breath reminding them to clean up their spaces: “Make your bed,” “Take out the trash,” “Put your clean clothes away.” They don’t seem to feel these reminders are character critiques; instead, maintaining a clean room is simply not high on their list of priorities.
I’ve grappled with how important cleanliness should be in the grand scheme of life. Shouldn’t practicing an instrument take precedence over making a bed? Nonetheless, I remain committed to ensuring my children don’t chew with their mouths open.
The situation became poignant when I returned home after dropping Julia off at college. In the days leading up to her departure, her room was a whirlwind of clothes and bags, a chaos that seemed normal. However, on the last night before her move, I noticed that, despite the clutter, her room was still filled with signs of life and energy.
When I returned home, I found her room in pristine condition. The bed was made, clothes put away, and the chaos I once knew was replaced by a sterile emptiness. All that vibrancy had been relocated to a new place, 263 miles away.
So now, while I have the clean room I always wanted, I can’t help but feel the cost of that cleanliness was the loss of my daughter’s youthful energy and spirit. Good luck to her new roommates; they’re certainly in for an experience!
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In summary, the journey of parenting includes lessons that we might not fully appreciate until we witness the transition of our children into adulthood. While I now have a tidy room, the emotional price paid for that cleanliness is steep.