We’re friends: Mother and son friendship

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . April 29, 2009 . 9:29PM

When AJ was little, and by little I mean 2 or 3 years old, I was into makeup. And by into makeup, you could clearly say it was an addiction. I had a tacklebox the size of a 4 shoeboxes stacked together. It was a green and creme Plano box whose loss I mourn daily. I still enjoy my cosmetics, but not to the extent I did then.

At whatever time of day I would have to get ready to go, I would lug out my Plano box and choose the daily colors. If I didn’t have to go out, I would sit in front of the tv with a mirror and play dress up with my girlie-metics. AJ loved to watch me put on my face and would often sit behind me and view me in my mirror.

He would come up behind me, hug me with his chubby little arms and grin at me in the mirror and tell me I was “bootiful.” One day, however, he was looking at me with a particularly tender smile and he said, “Aw, mama, we’re friends.” From that day on, when I did my makeup, he would come behind me, hug me, look at us in the mirror and say “we’re friends.”

As he’s grown, there are times he continues to reaffirm not only his love for me as a mother, but his genuine feeling that I listen to him and take care of him as a friend. This does not mean that I am not in charge or that I’m a permissive parent. I’m an authoritative parent with equal parts strict and loving. What I hear from him, however, is that my boundaries provide security and love and that my being his parent doesn’t effect how he feels about our friendship. This flies in the face of all of those parents that feel like they have to be permissive for their children to love them more.

Yes, AJ. We’re friends. I hope you will remember that when you become a teenager and hate me for all the times I reinforce your security and safety. I hope you remember it when I keep you away from the people I know aren’t good for you. I hope you remember it when you want to go on trips that lack structure and put holes in your body and dye your hair (hey, feel free if you want to pay for it). When you are an adult, freedom is yours and I’ll still be your mom and, yes, AJ, we’ll still be friends. Hopefully.