Whatever happened to “Mom”? Whatever happened to respect? Whatever happened to my wine?
Last weekend, my daughter McKayleigh looked at me across the kitchen and said, “Ashleigh, can you pass the salt?” Not Mom. Not Mother. Just Ashleigh. Like I was her roommate. Like I was some woman she met at a networking event. Like the seventeen hours of labor meant nothing at all.
This is what happens when the respect children used to show their parents gets systematically dismantled by a culture that tells kids they’re the center of the universe. Consequently, they act like it. And we’re supposed to just accept this new normal.
When Did This Become Acceptable?
I remember when children respected their parents. Back then, “ma’am” and “sir” meant something. You would never—never—call your mother by her first name unless you wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about what you’d done.
My mother would have fainted at such disrespect. My grandmother would have come back from the grave just to faint again. But now? Now the parenting experts tell us that kids need to express themselves. They claim hierarchies are outdated. Furthermore, they insist we should be our children’s “friends.”
I tried being McKayleigh’s friend. You know what friends do? They call you by your first name. They borrow your clothes without asking. They live in your ex-husband’s house most of the time because “the vibes are better there.”
The Parenting Respect Children Deserve To Learn
This isn’t really about a name, however. It’s about what the name represents. When children’s respect for their parents disappears, everything else follows. Gratitude vanishes. Manners evaporate. The basic understanding that some people earn certain titles—Mom, for instance—through sacrifice and suffering and a C-section scar that still aches when it rains? Gone.
I mentioned this to my therapist last week. She said I was “projecting.” I told her I was “observing.” We agreed to disagree, which cost me $200.
I also brought it up with Brayden, my older one. He’s twenty now. His response? “Mom, it’s not that deep.” Then he asked if I could Venmo him money for groceries. I did, because that’s what mothers do. At least he still calls me Mom, even if he only does it when he needs something.
What I’m Going To Do About It
So here’s my plan. Next time McKayleigh calls me Ashleigh, I’m going to respond with her full name. McKayleigh Renee Kowalczyk-Harrison. All of it. Every syllable. Let’s see how she likes being reduced to just a name.
Actually, she’d probably think it was funny. She thinks everything is funny. Especially me, apparently.
I need another glass of something. The parenting books didn’t prepare me for this. Then again, the parenting books were probably written by people whose kids call them by their first names too.
Maybe that’s the real conspiracy.
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