When I am writing, because I frequently write about my family members, I have gotten into the habit of calling them to ask ‘if it is okay’ for me to print ‘this or that’ on my blog. Obviously, I do the same with any personal pictures I use as well.

Recently, I was writing a rather painful piece (not yet posted) about my childhood and my parents. The years have brought me a great deal of understanding and forgiveness: I was aiming for a loving tone. I thought I could make that happen by providing few examples of times when I had messed up as a parent. A number of rather funny personal parenting fails came to mind (although I recall that they weren’t as funny at the time), and I cheered up considerably as I was writing: my fingers were flying across the keyboard. Impulsively, I fired off a quick text to both my adult children asking if they had any examples that I could add to the bunch. I got two very cryptic texts in return.

‘Crap, Mom. That’s REALLY heavy typed my son.

‘Um…I’ll think about it and get back to you,’ typed my daughter.

I have always had a bit of a flair for the melodramatic. I sat very still for the longest time until my lack of movement caught the attention of my husband, who was busy working on his laptop a few feet away. “What are you thinking about?” he queried innocently, unaware of my pending crisis.

“I was a GOOD mother!” I wailed, after a cursory explanation of the above-mentioned texts. “Sure, I made some mistakes – every mother makes mistakes but geez, you’d think I was Attila the Hun or something!”

“And where, exactly, did you get this impression?” asked my bemused husband.

“Well it’s OBVIOUS that they can’t even discuss whatever traumatic thing they’re obviously thinking about!” I snapped, getting up from my seat and flouncing upstairs to write a REAL article about REAL childhood trauma and angst. “I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing!” called my husband to my retreating back.

Several hours later, much calmed down, I was ready to make amends to my poor, disturbed and troubled children. I started with my son, by sending him the following text:

‘I am a little (a lot) horrified that a question that was meant to incite funny memories was so difficult for you, honey. It IS good to make your peace with childhood hurts as early in life as you can. You CAN talk to me, you know…’

‘Um, Mom? I’m still trying to come up with something.’ answered my perplexed son.

“You’re just not that funny, Mom,” said my daughter when I Skyped her the next day asking (with a great deal of trepidation) if, perhaps she had an example. “The only thing that’s coming to mind is the time you gave me the nosebleed in the tub.” (said nosebleed happening when I, trying to rapidly rinse my five-year old daughter’s soapy head when she was on the verge of a major temper tantrum, yelled “You are SAVED, sinner!” as I melodramatically pushed her backward into the tub, baptism-style).

“So…you weren’t keeping quiet because I traumatized you? You just had nothing to contribute?”

My husband shot me a significant look from his end of the couch.

By the time the whole story came out, my daughter was rolling her eyes (but smiling); my husband had said “I told you so,” at least three times and I was screaming with laughter.

So…they weren’t traumatized; neither were they terribly entertained. And the nosebleed incident was meant to be funny, and purely unintentional, albeit my daughter’s favourite guilt-trip fodder.

You know what? I can live with that…

Source of photo

Patti Moore Wilson © wednesdayschildca.wordpress.com


Author: Patti Moore Wilson, wednesdayschild2

I write what I feel. And I rarely know exactly what I feel until I write. I have lived long enough to have known many joys and many sorrows. I have made many mistakes; I have forgiven myself for a few… I have learned that there are lessons in every step of this journey, if we only take the time to pay attention… I hope you will feel free to pick and choose the stories that resonate for you…

16 thoughts on “Misunderstanding…”

    1. Oh I AM sorry to hear that… Funny how often we want feedback and appreciation from those least likely to be able to give it to us…🙁 I admit to shamelessly asking my kids to read my stuff (part of the reason I ask their ‘permission’). I will always want them to be more interested than they really are. I think it may just be part of our life lessons to only wish we had paid more attention when it is too late to do so. Can’t tell you how many times I wish I could call my Dad…


  1. This is hilarious! And you ARE funny, especially with the baptism. I commend you on your ability to not traumatize your kids. I’m writing a memoir and leaving my kids out except in minor roles so that they will feel comfortable-ish that I’m only outing myself. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. OMG!!!! THANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS!!! You sound just like me! Your family sounds a lot like mine. I do this way too much. The only difference is that my son thinks my antics are funny and will often use them as the brunt of jokes. Teasing his mother is my son’s favorite past time.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh the tangled web we weave when we play psychiatrist at the family table! Haha. I can relate to these moments. I’m the guy in the house that usually will think things are a much bigger deal than they truly are.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. My daughter remembers a time I got really upset because the TV didn’t work and she lost the remote and I looked everywhere kind of mad. I don’t even remember it but it upset her enough to. Since she started teaching 5-8 year olds she now understands how frustrating little things can get at the end of the day. She says she doesn’t know how I raised two kids with the patience I did have. There was never any swearing or spanking, lots of time outs though and I did yell a few times. My daughter was yelling the other day at a child trying to choke another kid and then another kid started throwing chairs in the room…she was so tired all she could think was how do parents raise children. Over the years whenever my kids would have a birthday I would tell them ” Be patient with me, this is the first time in my life I have a 10 year old girl ” or boy and every year I would say the same thing. Kids are kids, just like their adult parents we learn by mistakes and we grow by our love and loyalty to one another. Now my daughter laughs at my remote control melt down…that was just an over tired mommy moment.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh you sound like a lovely Mom 😊😊😊 Yes, we ALL have our ‘tired’ moments: I recall a few epic moments of my own. I LOVE your ‘this is the first time in my life I have…’ phrase. I, too functioned on timeouts and appropriate consequences but I yelled from time to time too, that’s for sure. How absolutely wonderful that your daughter is not only appreciating the awesome job of being a parent, but SHARING it with you. You are very blessed…😊❤️


  5. What a sweet post about you and your family. We as parents always worry too much, I think. Just seeing how worried you are that you might have traumatized them in some ways…shows what a sweet mom you are. We all have our moments. Believe me! I like the baptism part too. Hahaha….

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh thank you!!! I remember my best friend reassuring me many years ago saying ‘Of COURSE you’re a good mother! Bad parents don’t worry about being bad parents – only good parents do!’ Glad you liked the baptism part…I was a little worried that people might find that offensive…😳

      Liked by 1 person

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