P is for Parenting
P is for Parenting. Not Perfect Parenting.
There is no Perfect in Parenting. But guess what?
I am a better parent than you - for my kids. You are a better parent than me - for your kids.
Shocking right? But it is true. I had to learn this the hard way because I was on a road trip and was feeling a little lost. The road of "tips and tricks" of "successful parenting", "Don't say 'no' – redirect., “Spare the rod, spoil the child.", "Use your words!" and my favorite trip of all "We turned out alright." There is a moment in parenting when a decision must be made. It is usually in the middle of a horrible emotional storm. Do I continue going down the road I know or do I choose a path less certain?
When I stood at this crossroads - my oldest was almost 3 years old. She stood before me, in a diaper and a little t-shirt with a baby otter on it, and she was terrified. She was backing away - from me. I was so mad! To this day I have no idea why. What I do remember is the look on my child's face: Terror. I was brought to my knees. I was ashamed. I called my baby to me and as we held each other, we both cried. I held my chubby little girl and chose to take the path that was less certain to me. Because when I saw what she saw in me, I was scared too.
That night I went to my husband and a decision was made. We chose not to spank our kids. Ever. Again. You see, I was raised on "whippin’s". Belts, switches, hands -"being snatched up" when I stepped out-of-line. I had been taught that a "swat on the hand" of a toddler, taught them a lesson. A smack on the leg gave them guidance. I was standing at a crossroad and I was not equipped to make this journey. I had to learn new tools. I had to learn who I was, who this little human was, and how to parent in a new way.
I found myself aligning with other Moms who called what they did "attachment parenting". That sounded nice, I guess. I loved having my kids around. I started to talk to them respectfully ✓, we breastfed (past 1-2-3 years old) ✓, co-slept ✓, and made our own baby food ✓ ✓ ✓. I thought I was a closet hippy! No, as it turned out I was an "Attachment" parent. Who knew! So that is what I started calling myself. But that didn't really feel right either. According to Attachmentparenting.org (API) if I followed the principles, I would have wonderful, sweet, empathetic, well-adjusted kids! But, according to my family (and society) my kids would turn out to be co-dependent, winey little brats with no boundaries! And, I would loose myself and never be an independent, self-actualized, productive human, EVER AGAIN.
As it turns out they were all wrong, because I chose my own method. A little of this, a splash of that and a whole lot of love, respect, and wise council. And guess what? I have kids like any other kids. They can be snotty and annoying. Loving and gracious. Jealous and generous. Mostly, mostly they are fearless, imaginative, amazingly empathic and fearlessly protective of each other, their family, and community. What I chose wasn't a method to raise my kids, I chose to raise them with love, empathy, and boundaries. They, just like the rest of us, are a work in progress. Everyday I try to love them well. Sometimes it works, other times...well, I need to set clearer boundaries. Not just for them, but for me as well.
We are now moving into pre-teendom. I must admit, I'm a little worried, but I'm also super happy. I am excited to see the big people that these little people grow to be. Adolescence will be their testing ground. I'm sure they will be tested. They will have to make choices, hard and harder. Here's the thing - They won't know that I met Dr. Sears and was all Fangirl about it. They couldn't possibly know that the API website makes my head spin and am often annoyed (AF) by my other "attachment" parenting friend's kids. They may never see that I too have been jealous of my other friend whose baby slept "through the night at 6 months" because of some sleep training thing they learned. They won’t know I was both happy and sad when they weaned. They don't know that there were nights when I wished I had the whole bed to myself. Other nights when I wanted to carry them back to my room, because the sound of their breathing is the only thing that will soothe me.
I hope what when they are tested they will find a deep well of love, self-respect and strength. A safe place, in me, where fear doesn't drive them away, and love brings them through safely. A place where stupidity is forgiven but not continually abided. In short, a home.
So I don't know what you would call my parenting style. But if I could go back and give myself advise I would say "Stop comparing yourself to Mommy Do Everything and Daddy Cool Tattoos, and just love your children well. You are their perfect parent."
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