Humble Pie

Sometimes my children teach me the hardest lessons, even when they aren't even trying. Yesterday I took a group of six children to McDonalds to burn off some energy at the playplace. It had been raining all day and my house is just too small for all nine children/teens to be active. So I left baby and teenagers at home and decided to use our halloween coupons for a snack and utilize their indoor playground. We had been there for a while when a grandmother and her two grandsons came in. She and I, along with an older woman who works at McDonalds started talking about rude children and the lack of manners taught in today's society. I had mentions how strict I am and how I expect my children to be polite and respectful. They talked about how children were raised "in their day". I was feeling kind of prideful at this point. Afterall, I was there with six children who were behaving wonderfully. Not to mention the fact that I felt like I gained the respect of these older women for being a "good mother" in a generation where manners are not often taught to children. And that was the exact moment when one of my children kicked me right off of my little pedestal. My 11 year old and his friend were getting a little rambunctious and my 11 year old ended up standing on a table to try to reach the net above him. I yelled at him to get down which he did immediately. While giving myself another pat on the back for my son's quick obedience, I asked him to come to me so I could talk to him. He looked right at me and said...... "NO!" For a brief moment you could have heard a pin drop in that place with the exception of a dad (who had been listening the whole time) as he let out a gasp. So much for my mommy of the year award. I have to mention at this point that I am not usually embarrassed by my children's behavior. I have three children with high functioning autism so I have learned over the years not to let their behavior affect me. But this time I was thoroughly embarrassed. I sent the offender to wait in the van. While I packed up the other children, I was shocked at how embarrassed I was. I even considered making excuses. Afterall, the offender is one of my autism spectrum children. But I know that there was no excuse for my pride. I was wrong to feel so prideful about my mothering abilities. And that was the root of my embarrassment. Pride. After an hour long meltdown at home (a typical autism response) the offender was grounded to his room for the night for being defiant. And I was reminded that my children are imperfect. And so am I.