Boring

"You're BORING!"

That hit me like a ton of bricks. I have never been called boring in my life.

Granted, I've been called a lot of names throughout the various stages of my maturity.

Crazy. Insane. Carefree. Wild. Bipolar even. But never boring.

Until today. When my 5 year old called me boring.

I've been contemplating this for the last couple of hours. Mostly because I am terrified of being that mom. That person. That woman.

And I've come to the following conclusion -

It is good that my son thinks I'm boring.

I'm not, though. I ride a motorcycle. I drive fast cars. I own a gun. I skydive. I white water raft. I party. I parasail. I mud race. I actively seek out adeventure and excitment. I live a wild and crazy life and I love every moment of it. Nothing about the way I do things even remotelly falls under the label "boring".

However - the fact that my son believes I'm boring means I'm doing something right. It means that I am creating stability and an environment of trust and security. It means that I am predictable. It means that my kids know what to expect  from me. And that is good. That is the signature of a good parent.

I can be wild and crazy. I can dance on bars and earn Mardi Gras beads in New Orleans. I can run around on a motorcycle and outshoot guys at the shooting range. I can be that person, and still be a mom.

My kids don't need to know those things. They don't need to see it. They need me to be boring. I can do that for them.

So, when I think about it, my son gave me a compliment today. Because "boring" means that I'm giving him the stable, healthy life that he needs.

But if I hear it from anyone else, I'll totally freak!