There is something about mothers and praise.

They can watch you spend one whole hour doing something that should have taken twenty minutes and, instead of saying “Well done, my child,” the first thing you'll hear is:

“You used one hour to do what should have taken twenty minutes.”

😭

Like, Mummy, I know.

I was there too.

Sometimes I wonder if mothers deliberately avoid praising their children too much because they don't want our heads to become big. 😂

Because why is it that they can notice the one thing you didn't do well before noticing the ten things you actually did?

And somehow, they make you feel like you can still do better.

I remember my mum asking me one time,

“What are you cooking sef? I hope it will sha be sweet.”

At that point, I'm already thinking, Okay o, no pressure.

I finish cooking.

She tastes the food and goes:

“Really? It is sweet ooo.”

😂

Ma'am...

Was that a compliment?

Because I almost missed it.

Then there are times when you genuinely want to help.

You want to wash your mum's clothes, and she'll tell you not to bother because she knows you probably won't wash them to her satisfaction.

You're standing there like:

“But I was only trying to help.” 😭

And don't even get me started on the bucket incident.

One day, my mum told my sister to go and fetch water, but before she went, she had to wash the bucket.

My sister washed it.

She was ready to go and fetch the water when my mum said:

“Let me look at it.”

She looked at the bucket and said:

“Is this what you washed?”

😭😭😭

My sister washed it again.

My mum checked it.

She washed it again.

By the third time, this bucket had probably seen more personal development than all of us.

😂

Finally, my sister fetched the water and came back home.

And my mum told her to pour the water away and wash the bucket again.

At that point, my sister started crying.

And honestly, I understood.

Because sometimes, it's not even about the bucket anymore.

It's about feeling like whatever you do isn't good enough.

And I think that's one thing about growing up that I've come to understand about mothers.

Sometimes, they correct us so much that we forget they also notice our efforts.

They'll tell you what you did wrong.

They'll tell you what you could have done better.

They'll point out the part you missed.

But the simple:

“Well done.”

Can somehow become very difficult to hear. 😂

Maybe it's because many of our mothers were raised that way too.

Maybe they believe that if they praise you too much, you'll become too comfortable.

Maybe they think correcting you is how they prepare you for life.

And honestly, sometimes it works.

Because as I grew older, I started realizing that some of the things my mum warned me about weren't just her being difficult.

She was trying to teach me.

But sometimes, a little praise wouldn't hurt, Mummy. 😂

Just tell me:

“You tried.”

“I'm proud of you.”

“Well done.”

You can correct me afterwards.

I promise I'll still listen.

Actually, I've now learnt how to handle my mum. 😂

Whenever I do something and I want to show her, I don't just go ahead and tell her what I did.

I first tell her:

“Say well done first o!” 😂

Then I show her or tell her what I did.

And she'll be like:

“Pele oo, you try, Omo mi.”

And I'm just there like:

“YES! That's what I wanted to hear!”😭😂

Maybe that's the thing about mothers.

Their love doesn't always come in the form we expect.

Sometimes it's hidden inside the correction.

Sometimes it's in the questions.

Sometimes it's in the “Do it again.”

Sometimes it's in the “Is this what you washed?”😂

And sometimes, after all the criticism, they finally say:

“Pele oo, you try, Omo mi.”

And somehow, that little sentence means

 everything.

Because beneath all the corrections, they saw you trying.

Maybe mothers just have their own strange way of saying,

“I see you. Keep going.”❤️