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Christi Diggs
on May 23 2013 - 06:00 AM
A drop of spin, a cup of deception and tsp. politics=Apathy
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Lindsay Metcalf
on May 22 2013 - 06:00 AM
When that tornado siren sounds, I'm in the basement
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mara williams
on May 21 2013 - 06:00 AM
Summer break has this mom on a house upkeep war path.
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When I was sixteen years old, I babysat everyone's kid. I babysat the kid on the corner of my block. The kid across the street. The boys across town. The new baby our neighbors had.
With all of my experience, I was absolutely sure that I knew exactly how I would raise my child when my time came. I was sure of it. I would give advice to the moms of the kids I babysat, I was just that confident. I can only imagine what went through their minds when I did that. I was, in fact, a babysitter well into my... well... thirties I guess. I guess I'm still doing it. What can I say? I love sittin' on babies.
Then, my time did come. I was confident. I read all of the websites and checked out all of the books. I knew everything about raising kids before my little Marc came into my life. Everything.
But then, he got here. Funny how giving birth makes you forget everything you knew about raising kids.
From that point on, I just kind of took it day by day. I might have let him suck on a binky a little longer than he should have, or sleep in a crib longer than what was necessary. Potty training was annoying. Did I do that right? I have no idea. I mean, he hasn't had any accidents recently, which is good. He is ten years old, after all. I don't always remember to make him brush his teeth. I don't always remember to check to make sure he's cleaning his fingernails.
And then, there's Charlotte. I will tell you, when I was pregnant with her, I felt like taking care of a baby was old hat and I would be a champ at it. But I wasn't. I still wonder if there might have been an easier way to potty train her. I still regret all the screen time I let her have when she was very small and try to make up for it now. I don't remember to make her brush her teeth every night, either. Just like Marc.
But with Marc, I kind of had been feeling lately like he's almost eleven and I'm pretty good at caring for this boy. I know exactly what to do. Right? Except that lately he's been a little moody. I realize, of course, that he's entering the early stages of puberty and moody goes right along with that. Moodiness, stinky armpits, and acting weird around girls, are all part of that magical time. And while maybe I'm an expert on Marc ages 0-10, I have no idea what I'm doing today.
Nor do I know what I'm doing with a three year old Charlotte. I really don't.
People ask me for parenting advice sometimes. It's really flattering. I write this blog on this site for moms. I was a teacher of small children on and off for seven years. I teach teenagers and young adults now. Heck, I'd ask me for parenting advice, too.
Accept that I have no clue what advice to give anyone!
The Motherhood Game is turn-based, and we have to play it moment by moment. So, when I give advice to a friend based on my experience with my own kids, or with other little kids that I've taught, I warn them that it'll be different for them.
Such was the case the other day when Charlotte did something I had never seen her do before. She grabbed handfuls of Lego pieces and threw them in the air, then laughed. Then danced around in the mess. I told her to stop, but that only made her do it more! I had no idea what to do.
So I screamed at her. And I'm not a screamer. But I screamed, and she cried. It was horrifying.
And when it was all over, I apologized for screaming, and realized that I don't have all the answers for every situation, and that I don't really know what I'm doing here. I just do the best I can and hope it works out. I'm a human being, after all, not a mom-bot.
No. I don't know what I'm doing as a parent. And neither do you. We all just have to ride the ride and hang on tight. I have confidence that it will all turn out well in the end. Marc seems to be a pretty peaceful child for the most part, and Charlotte is mostly mild-mannered. I have no idea if it will stay that way, but I can do my best and I can hope.
So, the next time someone asks me for advice, I think I might just shrug and say "I have no idea." Or not. I might just go ahead and give my best advice. But my advice comes with a warning: What I did with Marc doesn't always work with Charlotte, and what I do for my kids won't always work for yours. We've all just gotta do our best, and no one can ever ask us to do any more than that.
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