I use to feel like I was a bad mom for not really listening to my boys. I had guilt.
They would say the word Pokemon and every word that followed I would hear as, “blah blah blah”. They would mention anything that started with the word flip note and my eyes would glaze over. I would stare….nodding….not comprehending a thing.
I scorned myself. I must be a horrific mother to not even care about the things that my children are interested in. Some moms, (you know who you are!), even play these things with their children. And they smile and laugh and seem like they are enjoying themselves. Those are good moms.
Not I. I’m pretty sure my children will need at least a year in therapy for this issue alone. They’ll be lying on a couch in some shrink’s office, blotting their tears as they question why their mom was so disinterested all the time.
So I made a pact with myself. I will care. I will be very present. I will listen to the words they are saying and try and comprehend and ask questions if I don’t until I do. Until I understand about evulsions and level-ups. I’m a good mom! I can do this!
Yeah, that was a bad idea. I tried. I listened. I nodded. I was actually hearing. I asked a question, complete with wrinkled forehead and probing eyes. They explained. I still didn’t get it so I asked again. Still nothing. Finally my son looked at me and said, “It’s okay, Mom. It’s complicated.”
Whew. Off the hook. Back to staring and nodding and hearing nothing but the sweet sound of, “blah, blah, blah.” Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.