by Linda Kay

Created on: October 31, 2008

"Do I have to do ALL this work?" she asked, as she stood with her fists on her hips. Wearing her little white karate pajamas, a frown wrinkling her once-smooth brow, brown hair in ringlets framing her face, she stood frowning up at me with her big brown eyes. Grown were the dimples that normally surrounded her big, white smile, and a happy disposition of this, my youngest daughter. She was the most disgruntled three-year-old I had ever seen. Fighting the smile trying so hard to escape, and working hard to keep the twinkle from my eye, I said "Yes. You have to help put all of the toys away." As the frown on her face deepened, her oldest sister, age seven, tried coming to the rescue - again.

"That's okay mommy. I will do it. I like to help." she said. Smiling as I smoothed my hand over her long, blonde hair and kissed her on the forehead, I once again reminded her 'the baby sister' had to learn to be responsible. If she was old enough to make a mess she was certainly old enough to clean it up.

Letting her off the hook would have been so much easier. After all, her oldest sister did not mind; but I did. The responsibility of motherhood weighed heavily on my conscience since the conception of my first daughter. I wanted to raise my daughters to be responsible adults. I wanted them to become self-sufficient, competent women.

How could they possibly learn and grow properly if I laughed every time they were just too cute to scold? The truth is, while raising four daughters; there were quite a few times I had to school my features while scolding my child. After sending them off to play I went to the kitchen, bathroom, or my bedroom and had a silent chuckle.

There were plenty of bumps in the road along the way. One such era came during the pre-teen years. I mistakenly thought girls became mouthy at the age of thirteen. I was shocked when my mild-mannered oldest daughter became mouthy at the ripe old age of eleven. Again, walking away would have been easier, but to what avail? Did I want her to think that one day as she screamed and hollered at her boss he would smile and walk away? Perhaps even give her a raise? My answer was a no-brainer; a resounding 'no'.

I do believe you need to be your daughter's best friend. I do not believe you should ever cop your age to do so. These girls need to know their mother's love them enough to teach, guide, and support them. They need to know that mom loves them enough to set boundaries, and say 'no' every time it is necessary. In return, you will have learned their love and respect. They may even imitate you when they become mothers, using the same methods you used with them. What an honor!

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