A Mother's Voice

I need a mother's voice in my head. And I need it to be louder.

This week I've spent a lot time with my nieces and nephews. And I'm dizzied by how much of what I tell them I disregard myself.

Elijah asks for a snack at 10 am of graham crackers and ice cream. "How about graham crackers and bananas instead bud?"

I ate chocolate chip cookies for breakfast yesterday.

Leif runs outside barefoot onto the sidewalk wet with falling snow. "Come back in here!" I snap "You need to put on your shoes when you go outside, ok?"

I wore sandals every day I biked to school during finals week, in December.

"Kira, you really need to go to sleep" I say, passing my niece's room at  10 pm - she's still up, with her nightlight on, reading.

I don't think I've been to bed before 2 am in months.

"No, no TV right now Isaac, we have a movie night tonight and can watch something then."

Never mind my six hour long netflix binge earlier this week.

What gives me the authority to tell these kids what to do when I don't live it? Is there some sort of "adult" badge? or a license?

That said, everything I tell them to do, is motivated by genuine concern for their well-being. I want the fun things for them for sure - the things they know they want now. Bring on wrestling matches, and building blanket forts! But I want the hard things for them too. I want the experiences that will teach them to suffer well. I want them to learn self-discipline and to develop a strong work ethic. I want them to grow healthy and safe. I want everything for them. 

But recently I just feel my own hypocrisy growing. I feel my own integrity shudder.

My mother is hundreds of miles away, but I need her voice back in my head, nagging me about all of the little things. A voice that says to finish the dishes now, to put in my laundry, to shower before breakfast, not eat after dinner, and to go to bed before it gets too late. Nothing has ever made me want to be better than wanting it for these kids. I need my mother's voice so I can be a better example of how to live well.

And I think I need her compassion too, for when my nieces and nephews are fallible like me. So I can hold them and tell them that it's okay, I understand and I love them. That we all fall short sometimes, and make mistakes and fail to live our ideal.