If I had seen how much pain and sadness were on this path, would I have walked it anyway?

I want to say yes, but I'm not sure.  I mean yes, I've lost a lot; but, look at what I've won.  I can look back and see that it wasn't always lonely.  There were moments of joy and laughter.  But they were only moments.  The times between were drawn out in endless emptiness.  I gave it everything I had - I truly did.  It simply wasn't enough; and, sometimes, it was nothing at all. 

If I had known when this started that it would end this way, would I have done it anyway?

I want to say no, but that may not be true.  Yes, it all feels wasted now.  Yes, I feel like my chance to choose the right path is gone.  But maybe this gravel road fit me better than one paved in gold.  Maybe the lessons I learned the hard way will make it easier for the girls when they set off on their own journeys.  And, maybe the means justify the end.

Right or wrong.  Running in blind or walking out wide-eyed. There is no simple answer when the questions cut so deep.

Old school

Maybe I'm just old school, but...

Kids are not little adults, they're a small step above babies.

They stand when an adult needs a chair.  Every single week at dance class, Maya and I are first into the building.  She and I sit in two of the three chairs available.  However, as soon as someone else enters the room, Maya gets up.  Because she's a kid.  Because that's an adult. And, because she knows her little self doesn't get the comfy spot.  Every single week, other people's children take those same chairs while the adults have to stand.

They don't control the remote or radio.  Mama doesn't have to sit through a cartoon or a Katy Perry song unless it's their birthday.  Each Saturday is movie night - this is their chance to pick whatever movie they want, and I get to sit there counting the minutes until the princess stops singing or the animated animal stops screeching.  Every other day and night, the girls are out of luck.  I have earned the right to watch the news and listen to Adele any darn time I wish.

They do not interrupt or join in on an adult conversation.  You know the phrase "don't speak unless spoken to"?  My children do.  And, on the occasion where they forget, they are reminded with a swift raise of the eyebrow.  I talk to my girls all the time, and they talk to me even more frequently.  They're not hurting for conversation, trust me.  But, as a rare treat, I sometimes get to talk to other grown folk.  The girls are not invited to these powwows.

They say please and thank you, regardless of what's being offered to them.  I don't care if someone asks them "Hey! Would you like some pterodactyl droppings for breakfast?"  My girls better say "No, thank you." with a smile.  I have been told "that doesn't look good" and "yuck" by other people's children enough times to know that not everyone has taught their children to be gentle with the feelings of others.

They eat what is put in front of them or they are hungry until the next meal.  At each meal, you have two choices - 1.  Eat.  2.  Don't. 

I was raised by a woman who put me in my place... deep in her heart and at the bottom of the food chain.  I sat at the kid's table.  I listened without talking.  I smiled politely when someone spoke to me.  And, I waited to grow up.  Apparently, a lot of parents no longer subscribe to these ideas.  My children are amazing, smart, capable kids.  But they're still kids.  And, kids are not little adults.  My girls are being raised to know the difference.  I guess I'm just old school that way.