As a physician and a parent, I often find myself reflecting on the contrasts between my parenting style and that of my mother. Unlike my upbringing, where speaking back or raising one’s voice was simply not an option, my children seem to have no reservations about expressing their feelings—even when it means arguing with me. Can you imagine that?
As we approach another Mother’s Day, I find myself considering how vastly my approach to parenting diverges from my mother’s. Sometimes, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of my children’s demands, something I doubt my mother ever experienced. She had a way of commanding respect that I seem to struggle with, raising the question: does that make me a less effective parent?
To be fair, my children are not misbehaved—they’ve never been the kids throwing tantrums in public or causing a stir at school. They’re generally well-liked and respectful outside the home. So why do they push my buttons so often?
After a particularly challenging day filled with disrespectful behavior, my partner and I often find ourselves discussing what went wrong—perhaps while enjoying a cold beverage. We can’t help but think back to our own childhoods, where fear of repercussions kept us in line. There was an unspoken rule: we obeyed on the first request. Now, in my home, that fear is absent. My kids speak their minds freely, even if it turns the atmosphere a bit chaotic.
One major difference I notice is how open my children are with me. They discuss topics that would have made me blush at their age, like relationships and social pressures. Conversations that would have been unthinkable for me are commonplace over dinner or during our car rides. They even express their love for me frequently, a stark contrast to my own experience; I distinctly remember my first “I love you” to my mother was in college. Reflecting on this during my third Mother’s Day without her makes me wish I had voiced my feelings sooner.
My mother was not one to socialize with other parents, nor did she attend many of my school events or check on my homework. In contrast, I am involved in countless activities with my kids. Still, they have their moments of immaturity, selfishness, and yes, even occasional swearing.
So, it begs the question: who is the better parent—me or my mother? Despite her shortcomings, my mother’s love was fierce, and I grew up knowing it was unwavering. Similarly, I love my children fiercely, and I hope they feel that every day. I believe we are both raising compassionate, intelligent individuals, so perhaps we both come out on top.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there—those who feel they’ve nailed it, those who are still learning, and those just trying to make it through. We’re all in this together.
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