Besties

When I was little, I distinctly remember my dad telling me that he wasn’t my friend.  I was somewhere between 4-7 years old.  I don’t remember how we got into onto the subject, but I clearly remember him telling me that he was my dad and not my friend.  Sure, we did fun stuff together.  And of course he loved me.  But, as he explained, it was his job to make sure that I did what I was supposed to do and not act up, and therefore we weren’t really friends.  He was my dad.  I was his daughter.  And that parent child relationship, although filled with love, was different than a friendship.  No doubt about it.

My mother adopted a similar philosophy.  She was never the type of mom that I shared secrets with.  She wasn’t that mom that I could tell everything and anything (without repercussion).  She wasn’t “the cool mom”.  We didn’t share hair accessories or go do girly things together.  She never once took me out of school to take me to the mall to have lunch or go shopping…which was a surprisingly common occurrence at the high school where I went to school.  I loved her.  I respected her.  But back then, she wasn’t my best friend.

I never disagreed with my parents’ approach.  It was always just how it was.  Sure, I secretly envied the girls who were best friends with their moms, but I accepted it.  And I figured that I would adopt the same philosophy when raising my own kids.

Then a funny thing happened – this weekend, while we were at Disney World, Greenleigh told me that I was her best friend.  And not just in the context of trying to get something out of me (a candy, stuffed animal, etc.).  We were relaxing after a long day at the theme park and she turned to me out of the blue and said, “Mommy, you’re my best friend.”  [Cue heart melting]  Although it’s the first time she’s said it to me, she’s apparently told other people in the past that I’m her best friend.  I prepared to give her the lecture on how I’m her mommy and I love her but friendship is different and she has lots of friends her own age…

But I couldn’t.

When it came right down to it, I just didn’t want to.  I like being her friend and I was honored that she thinks of me as her best friend.  I want her to feel like she can tell me anything and everything, especially while she’s young, to build the foundation for when she gets older and her problems get bigger.  I enjoy doing girly things with her, and although we won’t be sharing hair accessories anytime soon given how often lice get passed around her classroom, I do plan to take her out to lunch and shopping when she’s in middle and high school.  As much as I don’t want to admit it, I do want to be that “cool mom”.

I don’t want to wait to be her friend like my mom waited to be friends with me.

Now that’s not to say that I plan to shed a tear every time Greenleigh utters the words, “I’m not your friend anymore,” because that’s certainly not the case.  And trust me, those words get a lot of use in our house.  It also doesn’t mean that I won’t discipline her, because I certainly will.  In fact, I’m the primary disciplinarian in our house, and that’s not going to change anytime soon.  I fully intend to make sure that she follows the rules and behaves at home, at school, and in public.  And when she gets to be school age, I want to make sure that she does her homework, respects her teachers, and gets good grades.

But I don’t think that means I can’t be her friend or even her best friend.  There has to be a way to do both.  To support, encourage, and have fun, while still making sure that they aren’t a menace to society.  There has to be a way.

So moms, how do you/did you raise your kids (particularly pre-school and elementary school kids) – are you their best friend?  Do you want to be their best friend?  Or do you take more of a disciplining role in hopes that they will respect you now and be your friend later?  Do you think there needs to be a line drawn between parent and friend?