I am not raising friends.

These three girls are smart, funny, challenging, and inspiring.  They make me laugh.  They make me cry.  They make me want to pull my hair out.  I am trying to raise them in a loving, supportive manner.  However, I am not their friend.  It is my responsibility to be their mother. 

I know a lot of mothers look at their roles differently, and I respect that.  I am certainly no expert on your children.  If hanging out with them and letting them run the show works in your house, more power to you.  In my house, things run a little differently.

Maybe it's the way I grew up.  As a child, my grandmother took on the bulk of the "parenting".  She wasn't one of these new, modern grandmas who are spoiling their grandkids rotten every time they see them.  She was tough.  She loved me, and I knew it.  But, she didn't play.  I was the kid, she was the adult.  The end. 
Once I moved to Virginia, I was on my own with my mother.  Let's just say she didn't do a lot of child-rearing.  I took on the adult role quite a bit earlier than I was supposed to, which meant missing out on the innocence of childhood.  I won't do that to my children.

It is my opinion that, being your children's friend also means that you're making your children your friends.  This puts them in adult situations where they have no business being.  I want my girls to be innocent and naive for as long as they can.  They don't need to know every little thing about my life. They don't need to know the drama that comes with being a grown up.  So, they don't need to be my friends. 

I have walked the path my girls will walk (though, hopefully, I have put them in a better lane than the one I traveled).  I cannot be their friend and still guide them through these tricky years.  I want them to take my advice more seriously than what they will hear from their peers.  How can I do that if I'm trying to be one of those peers?

This doesn't mean I don't enjoy spending time with them.  I play the Wii, indulge in the constant dress-up parties, sit down and color with them.  They are, absolutely, my favorite people in the world.  But, they are children.  If I want to have an adult conversation, I look elsewhere.  If I want to complain or vent or gossip, I don't point any of that in their direction.  Their job is not to be my sounding board.

I look forward to the days when my daughters will invite me out to lunch.  Of course, they'll be wildly successful, so they'll pay.  We'll talk about their careers, their loves, their crazy college days.  We'll laugh about how hard I was on them when they were little.  I'll say "I told you so" at least twice before the entrees arrive.  And, we'll be friends.

It's my job to get them to that lunch twenty years from now as strong, confident, independent women.   To be their friend then, I need to be their mama now.