Jerky moms need love too!

Since my first son was born, I worried that my kids wouldn't like me. Why? Because truth be told, as a mom, I'm really not that likable. 

When a new friendship is forming, and they suggest we get the kids together to play, I'm thinking, 'Hmmm...not such a good idea.' Why? Because I want the new friend to like me, and honestly, when I'm in parent mode, it's not pretty. 

I'd never had problems with my personality before kids. I was a fun loving jokester, who rarely got mad. But I kinda have to stay in jerk mode with my kids, or they are awful. I don't particularly like being a jerk, but I haven't found any other way.

And so I'd wonder, 'Being that I'm a jerky mom, how could my kids like me? I don't even like me as a mom.' And so the concern has sat for years -- 'I bet my kids don't like me.' 

And there was evidence to back up my concern. When I'd drop my children off for Nursery at church, and all the other children were crying for their parents to stay, my kids were happily waving me away. 

When I'd leave for an evening out with friends, they never run into my arms to greet me when I get home like other children I'd see. The only one who'd seem to notice I was back was the dog. And even then, it was just a slight wave of the tail.

'It's probably b/c their always watching tv when I get home, they're like zombie's when that thing's on,' I'd tell myself when I'd walk in with not so much as "Hello" from the kids. But deep down, I worried -- 'Do they even like me?'

And then it happened -- the first sign of hope that they maybe sort of like me: My seven year old says to me, "Mom, when I get older, I want to work at the ice cream shop."

Now, I'll be honest, at first I wasn't too excited at this lack of ambition, but then he explained why, and my heart soared. I felt like all the years I'd given up being my fun loving self, doing the things I want to do, when I want to do them, might not be for nothing after all! 

"Isn't there an ice cream shop where you go to sing?" he continued. "Because if I work there, I'll be sure to see you a lot!" 

'He wants to see me when he's all grown up?' I thought, shocked by the news.

"And I want to work at the store," chimes in my other son. "That way you can come through my line, and I'll just say, 'ten dollars, ten dollars, ten dollars'. You'll save a whole bunch of money that way!"

I'm pretty sure my face was shining brighter than a pre-lit LED Christmas tree. 'They want to see me when they're grown ups! They want to give me unreasonable discounts on groceries! THEY DO LIKE ME!!!'

As I'm writing this even, my youngest son is smothering me in kisses. But I already knew he liked me -- I spoil him and give in to him way more than the other three (He's the youngest, it's impossible not to). And yes, he does cry when I drop him off at nursery. 

But I didn't wipe four butts, wake up every two hours for five years in a row, and put my dreams and ambitions on hold for just the little one to like me.

I don't know what's spared me from their dislike . . . Maybe they haven't noticed I'm a jerk. Maybe they think every mom is a jerk. Whatever it is, I'm thinking I'll just avoid letting my kids go over to nice moms houses. Maybe I'll even scout out really mean moms to let them spend time with. 

Because, at the end of the day, Jerky mom's need their kids to love them, too. After all, I love them so much, even if I'm a jerk about it.