Mothers' Day: Survival & Rescue Skills

Being a mother is the greatest pleasure on Earth. Having a mother is often a pain in the ass, until we mature enough to realize we won't always have our mothers. Then having a mother becomes the other greatest pleasure on earth.

Life is like that. Bitter and sweet, salty and sour.

There are mistakes I have made as a mother. I managed to keep them alive through toddlerhood. I managed to learn that silence always means trouble and basic health and safety procedures did get in. I insist on advanced swimming lessons, not for the swimming skills but for the life-saving skills, to keep their survival and rescue instincts sharp.

Beyond those basics, I am proud of my children's black belts in sarcasm and the trophies they've won for creativity in mischief and smartassery. I am often awed by the rhetorical skills they have developed and the logic of life experience that they bring to questioning almost every single thing I say. I am proud, also, of how parenthood has forced me to recognize that I am often wrong and that assumptions are only assumptions.

While I often fear I might be raising little lawyers, I love them enough to put that fear aside to see how these puzzles turn out. Arguments become conversations, decisions become choices and challenges become explorations.

And it happens when I provoke and challenge them too. My other unbreakable rule is this: all technology is consumed in shared spaces, not private ones. As we approach teenage hood, I will not have them retreating to their bedrooms for hours of internet usage, video games and skype calls. That stuff happens, but it happens under my nose. I don't censor them, but I look over their shoulders and they look over mine. We ask about content, we judge each other's usage of time and bandwidth, and we challenge everything we see, read or hear. This too is a survival and rescue instinct.

It's also the foundation of morality: don't hurt others, question the motives of those who would restrict others right to exist, question the events of history and pull back the blanket of assumption.

My mother thinks I'm wrong. My most conservative religious friends think I'm wrong. They don't have conversations like these with their 9 year-olds:

"Mum, why is Canada so mean to Native Peoples? They don't even have safe water on the reserves."

"I don't know sweetie, but I want to change that."

"Me too. I want to change that too."

In my life, I have been obeyed without question. It's nice, but I don't expect the same behaviour from my children as I do from my dog. My dog, as intelligent and wonderful as she is for a dog, does not have to unravel the mysteries of science, the wonders of humanity and the solutions to problems created that put our people and planet in peril.

When I was in university, my professor of sociology of education said something I have never forgotten:

"Each generation must be more intelligent than the last. Educational systems must ensure they do not prevent that."

Parenthood is an educational system.

"B-- is a pleasure to teach and is always ready to learn," my 12 year-old's last report card said.

"Are you sure she's talking about you?" my bother asked my son.

Obviously, my children's teachers get the benefits of conversation, choices, and exploration without the hard work of starting with arguments, decisions and challenges. I'm fine with that. I'm their mother and negotiating those three things are the responsibilities my children and I share.

Happy mothers' day.
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Published on May 10, 2015 06:28 Tags: mothers-day
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Cornfields of the Sea

Kate Baggott
When I was in high school, I was lucky enough to be part of a writing workshop with author Barbara Greenwood. Every member of the workshop was to write a short story for a group anthology. I thought w ...more
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