As a parent, it’s not uncommon for our children to feel like they’re facing extreme hardships, no matter how good they have it. One moment, they’re overjoyed with a shiny new toy, and the next, they’re eyeing the latest, more extravagant version that their friend has. Kids have an uncanny ability to compare their lives with those of their peers, and this can drive parents up a wall.
I often hear my three kids lamenting about how their friends enjoy more freedoms, later bedtimes, and more spending money. They feel the need to remind me daily of what they perceive as my shortcomings. But the real kicker? They claim I’m the strictest mom in the world. Just the other day, my son exclaimed, “You’re way stricter than any of our friends’ moms!” I’m pretty sure his intention was to sway me on a few rules, but that’s simply not going to happen.
Let’s be real: I doubt I’m the strictest mom on the planet. They might try to label me as a fun sponge, but here’s the truth: If I’m tougher and have more rules than the other moms they know, I genuinely don’t care. And if I happen to be the most laid-back mom in the neighborhood, I still don’t care. What matters to me is that I’m raising my kids in a way that feels right for our family.
They can call me the “mean mom” or complain about my rules all they want. They can stomp off to their rooms and slam doors, even skip dinner in protest. It doesn’t faze me. What bothers me far more is the thought of compromising my parenting style or allowing my children to make decisions simply because their friends get to. I’m not about to let my kids dictate the rules of our household, especially when things like curfews and privacy are involved.
For instance, my teenage son will not be setting his own curfew or deciding where to stay overnight. And my tween daughter is not getting a $60 body piercing just because her friends are doing it as a sign of friendship. I have my reasons for the decisions I make, and it’s my job as their mother to listen to their ideas, provide guidance, and maintain my boundaries. If I allowed them to run the show, our home would be utter chaos.
I do grant them plenty of freedoms and I always hear what they have to say. But bending to their whims just isn’t how I roll. Call me strict, call me mean—it doesn’t hurt my feelings. From my perspective, my kids are thriving without making their own rules. They’re healthy, happy, and when they reach adulthood, I have no doubt I’ll receive plenty of calls asking, “Mom, what should I do?”
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In summary, I embrace my role as the strict mom if it means keeping my kids on track and safe. I didn’t become a parent to gain more friends; I became a parent to raise kind, responsible human beings.