Amelie Fried is a very caring mother. Unfortunately, their children lack gratitude
The hard part about children is that they grow up. Even more exhausting, however, is that they already consider themselves adults if we consider them still children, so from about twelve. From then on, our children will do everything they can to prepare for the moment they leave the house. More precisely, they are doing everything we can to encourage this moment. They are rebellious, give back and absolutely accept none of our good advice. They defend themselves furiously against any form of mothering and already feel it as an attack, if you encourage at minus five degrees to pull a jacket over the T-shirt. That's awful for me. My children are now nineteen and sixteen - and still I would most like to lay my clothes down in the morning and grease the school sandwiches. I would like to accompany you all day and watch out that no one is doing anything to them. Sometimes I would like to tie her up at home.$config[ads_text] not found
That's why I love it when my kids are sick. I mean, of course, not badly ill, but just so sick that they lie exhausted in bed and can not contradict each other. Then I can finally develop the whole repertoire of maternal care, from tea with honey to hot water bottle to calf wrap - depending on the type of disease. I cook chicken soup or oatmeal, feel her feverish forehead and murmur reassuring words. I administer homeopathic globules and make quark envelopes, and if the funds do not help, but in any case help and attention. Not only is there no resistance at all - no, sometimes I even get a grateful look or a mumbled into the pillow "You're nice, mom". Hach, how good that is! I know that children have to untie themselves, find ourselves stupid, and go their own way. I would never seriously stand in their way, on the contrary, I do everything to support them. But the moments when I'm allowed to be mom again and my children are my babies for a short time, that's what I enjoy. Eventually it will not be long before others will feel their forehead and cook chicken soup for them. Then I will be sad, but also a little bit happy.