For all you mothers out there who watched the general conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints two weekends ago, you may still be floating on your “Motherhood-is-the-best-job-in-the-world” cloud. I know I am.
Seriously, how amazing was the talk by Elder Jeffery R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles about the divine role of mothers? And how much did you (and every other mother on the planet) need to hear these words:
“To all mothers in every circumstance, including those who struggle — and all will — I say, ‘Be peaceful. Believe in God and yourself. You are doing better than you think you are. In fact, you are saviors on Mount Zion, and like the Master you follow, your love never faileth.’ I can pay no higher tribute to anyone.”
Sure, there was one point during the talk when my children were so loud I could barely hear and I found myself yelling, “Please! Let me hear this! He’s talking about what a great mother I am, so just be quiet!” I saw the irony the moment it happened, but I didn’t even care. Moms get very few shout-outs from anyone for the work we do, so I was determined to bask in it for those brief moments.
But there was also another talk during conference that was an eye-opener for me as a parent. Elder Bradley D. Foster of the Seventy spoke of a young man named Pablo who credited his worthiness to his father.
Throughout his life, his father had stayed a step ahead of his son’s potential problems. He said, “Pablo, I was 9 once too. Here are some things you may come across. You’ll see people cheating in school. You might be around people who swear. You’ll probably have days when you don’t want to go to church. Now, when these things happen — or anything else that troubles you — I want you to come and talk to me, and I’ll help you get through them. And then I’ll tell you what comes next.’”
And he did. As Pablo grew up, his father told him about what he could expect at each age, patiently guiding him through life.
So many times as a mother, I find myself waiting for my children to come to me with problems. I help them work through their hurt feelings or worries, but I am always reactive instead of proactive.
This man, however, was out on the front lines, laying the groundwork before his son even encountered an issue. Then, when the boy hit those milestone moments when a friend introduced him to pornography or offered him a drink, he knew he could turn to his father, who had already predicted what would happen.
It was like a lightbulb went off for me: I can’t wait for my children to come to me with problems. They may never come. They may be ashamed or afraid I won’t understand. But if I tell them what they might encounter at each stage of their life, they will be more likely to turn to me when those things inevitably happen.
In that way, the parent becomes the counselor rather than the fixer or the punisher. Like this boy’s father, I can prepare my children and then be ready with open arms to guide them through the tough times.
So after general conference, I sat down with my 8-year-old daughter and told her some of the things she can expect in the next few years. I talked about mean girls who may make fun of her. I told her some kids may cheat on tests or steal. We discussed how boys and girls will start acting silly around each other and teasing each other for being “boyfriend and girlfriend.”
As we talked, my daughter — who hardly ever tells me more than what was served for hot lunch that day — opened up about her life. Her eyes lit up as she said, “That’s already happening! It’s just like that!”
She told me about kids that had teased her. Boys that have crushes on her, and some kids in her class that encourage her to break the rules. She cried as she told me how hard it is to be good when other people are being bad.
She told me all these things because she knew I understood. I wasn’t the out-of-touch mother who would judge her, but rather a confidant and counselor.
So many of the things we talked about were already happening for my daughter. I may be starting this proactive parenting approach a little bit late, but at least I am starting. The hardest years (seriously, I am terrified of teenage daughters) are still ahead of me. Soon, I will be warning her about much bigger dangers, and that’s when it matters most that she come to me with her struggles, shortfalls and successes.
And I will be there, not with an “I told you so” or an “I tried to warn you,” but with a listening ear and an embrace that lets her know that no matter what she’s done or seen or heard, she can always come to mom.
Erin Stewart is a regular blogger for Deseret News. From stretch marks to the latest news for moms, she discusses it all while her 8-year-old and 5-year-old daughters dive-bomb off the couch behind her.