Parenting 401

Wes is about to turn 4, and it’s the time of year again when I tend to reflect upon all of the things he has taught us over the past 365 days.  While his lessons are a little more subtle than they were during the first few years of his life, (parenting 101, 201, and 301), it’s still amusing to me just how much we can learn by caring for our tiny human. 

1.  Be the parent you know how to be.

Personalities don’t change once you become a parent.  For better or worse, my DNA has long determined that I am a bit too soft-hearted and equally not as thick-skinned.   This has made parenting both an inexplicable joy and also a gigantic heartache at times.  I am quick to melt when Wes discovers something wonderful about the world surrounding him, but my heart also shatters when he learns that the universe isn’t always as fair or as kind as the one we try to create within the walls of our home.   I remember tearfully seeking advice from Sean one evening about some parenting struggle.  I told him that I wished I was someone different so that I could be a better parent for Wes, because I felt like I was inherently failing at being Wes' mom.   Sean, always a good listener with a thoughtful response, simply said “This is the parenting style that has chosen us, and we just need to do the best with what we have.”  I understood then, whether I liked it or not, that you can only parent the way you’re programmed to parent.  I could try to be someone different, perhaps a little more stern or quick with the tough love, but I would be miserable.  And Wes would be miserable.  I’ve learned that I need to try to work with both the talents and shortcomings that I’ve been given, and chances are, everyone is going to turn out alright in the end. 

 

2.  Door dings don't matter.

As a kid, I always took great care of my toys.  I couldn’t imagine leaving toys outside overnight, I never attempted to give my dolls a haircut (though tragically, I can’t say the same for my own bangs), and when I did undo the factory-perfect braids of my American Girl doll, I felt terrible for days.  A little (lot) of that attitude has carried into my adulthood, and it was strongly evident upon the purchase of our first new car, my Prius.  With weekly washings and biannual waxings, I cared for the car like it was the most expensive toy I ever had (because frankly, it was). The first inevitable door ding left me in a sour mood for days.  Fast forward a few years and our garage is home not only to my Prius, but Sean’s car and scooter, two bulky Cozy Coupes, three bicycles, and enough primary colored plastic toys to entertain the neighborhood (which in fact, they do).  And my car is covered in dimples, dings, and dents. About a year ago, Sean timidly approached me to tell me that one of our bikes had fallen into the hood of my car, leaving a wound that even my dad’s diligent buffing wouldn’t be able to remove.  I think both he and I were equally surprised at my response: I didn’t give a sh*t.  At all. It was incredibly liberating to finally come to the realization that my car was just a thing, a costly hunk of metal whose condition had no impact on the amount of joy in my life.  In a way, it’s been kind of neat to have my car serve as a sort of parenting badge, with every new dimple and scrape documenting the years of our family life. 

3.  Never Google a parenting problem.  

I’ve Googled colic, fevers, potty-training, pacifiers, and countless other parenting current events.  And never once have I closed the browser feeling better than before I had started.  Rarely do level-headed people respond to website forums, and much like fashion magazines, you just feel worse about yourself when you’re done reading.   With a world of information right at my fingertips, I’ve learned that I prefer the bliss of ignorance over the degradation of internet opinion. 

4.  We could all use an alter-ego.

For the past four months, Wes has referred to himself in the third person as “Baseball Guy.”  Some days he’ll don his Cardinal’s cap and jersey, and Baseball Guy accompanies me on our routine errands.  And I’m amazed at what courage Wes has when he’s Baseball Guy.  Under the safety of his ball cap, my normally shy guy will talk to cashiers, fist bump an acquaintance in a parking lot, and just the other day he even asked for his own milk at a restaurant without first whispering his order to me.  I often wonder how many things we all hesitate to do because we are feeling a bit self-conscious or timid.  Perhaps we could all use an alter ego to give us the courage to live our lives with a little less restraint.

5.  We haven't sat on our couch in 4 years, but one day, we're going to miss this chaos terribly.  

There has been no deep-couch-sitting in our house for nearly four years.  Between Sean’s career, my in-home quilting business, and parenting, our work hours extend from pre-dawn until too-long after bedtime.  A few weeks ago, we acquired a couch for our basement from a friend, and nearly a month later, I still haven’t sat on it.  There are days I long to flop on any surface for a bit of R&R, but at this point in my life, my work and my home life are one in the same.  I do know, however, that sooner than I’d like to think, Wes will be hanging out in a dorm room rather than our living room, and those toys that are scattered over our floors will be collecting dust in a closet.  I will have all the time in the world to sit down and watch some tv on that couch, and I’ll miss every minute of this exhausting, wonderful parenting gig.