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No. 1917
Ready or Not
I am still in shock over being a parent. I’m not a total
neophyte – I have two children, ages four and one – but I am still sometimes
so surprised at my position of authority and responsibility that I’m
actually dumbstruck. It is an awesome thing being a parent. And sometimes in
all the running around after little ones, running endless errands, writing
and misplacing lists, feeding mouths, wiping noses, changing diapers,
mopping floors, cleaning high chairs, chasing dust, pulling the vacuum
around, taking care of booboo’s, finding lost items (Where’s my Barbie?
Where are my scissors? I can’t find my sunhat/shoes/underwear etc.), I
suddenly realize that I have lost track of the big picture.
This is not the same as the shock that comes just after having your first
baby. A friend of mine talked about the “steep learning curve” she
experienced after her first baby and I agree. No matter how many books I had
read or how many people I had talked to, I was in no way actually prepared
for the warm little life that was suddenly mine to care for. The second
child is easier in that way – I wasn’t shocked when he barfed on me and peed
on me or by how much he needed to be nursed or by how little he slept. No,
this shock at being a parent is different.
My daughter will be starting school in September and I’m having trouble
coming to grips with this. I wonder if I’ve told her all the things that she
needs to know. Have I prepped her appropriately, will she do what the
teacher asks her to do but will she be able to assert herself and say “no”
when she needs to? Will she cave to peer pressure? Will she be polite,
respectful and caring to others? Have I set an example for her that will
help her through this? Was I conscious and vigilant that I was setting an
example for my daughter at all times (Sadly, I know the answer to this
question)?
When people told me that they had cried when their children started school I
rolled my eyes, kind of like my daughter rolls her eyes at me now (an
illustration of my having set a poor example). All I could think about was
how wonderful it would be to have my child go to school so I could have a
few hours to myself and maybe catch up on sleep or read a book or finish the
weekend newspaper.
But now I will be the one sobbing when I take my daughter to school in
September. I wonder if I’ve spent enough time with her, talking about all
the important things in life. I wonder if I’ve taught her anything of any
use — not just how to wipe her bum and not to run in parking lots, but how
to be kind to people but not too kind if they are strangers. Have I taught
her how to respect people and treat them the way she wishes to be treated
and not to do stuff just because an older child tells her to do it? Have I
taught her to self calm, to problem-solve and accept that not everything
will work out the way she wants; to find the joy in little things and to
become passionate about some things – anything; to find a physical activity
she can enjoy, excel at and have for life; and to take care of her body, eat
healthy foods and drink lots of water?
Maybe I should have spent less time on the little picture and more time on
the big picture. Instead of trying to convince my kids that the mundane
things in life were fun (pulling weeds in the garden is “FUN,” grocery
shopping is “FUN”) and rushing from A to B, we should have been having more
serious discussions about the world and our place in it.
And then I remember that I have spent a lot of time gazing into my
children’s eyes and that, conversely, they have spent a lot of time gazing
into mine. I remember that they have taught me so much, mainly about how to
be patient and how to be enchanted with a broken seashell and a blade of
grass and a twig from a tree. And they have taught me to see joy in the
little things and to be very, very passionate about something.
Now my daughter can teach my son to roll his eyes at me – he should have it
perfected by the time he’s two. Then he and I can go grocery shopping while
she is at school and I’ll say “really, grocery shopping is fun” and he can
practise rolling his eyes at me and I’ll try to think of something
“important” to teach him while we cruise for lettuce and cucumbers or
whatever else was on the shopping list that has gone astray.
LIZ LAIDLAW (2004)
Relational Child & Youth Care Practice, 17,3, pages 11-12