I Was a Perfect Parent...And Then I Had Kids

I typically use this space to share ideas and activities that incorporate play and learning into your home and/or classroom. I have a passion for play in childhood (and adulthood for that matter). I hope that at least on occasion, the ideas shared here are helpful. I also hope that (all photography "skills" put aside), the images shared here and on my social media accounts do not give forth a false impression or leave others feeling that life here is "picture perfect."

I want to interrupt my typical posts today to introduce you a bit more to me. Specifically a version of me several years ago. You see, back then I was the perfect parent. I knew just about everything there was to know about how others should parent their children. I offered a great deal of support and (sometimes unsolicited) advice to parents in need. Yes, I was that generous. Many times my advice was even supported by evidence from textbook theories and well documented long term studies. And if you were really lucky, I had a charming little anecdote from my classroom experience or even my own upbringing to compliment that. Ah, I was such a great mom. So confident and sure of herself. So focused and balanced. I had clarity and wisdom beyond my years (or at least beyond my experience). And then I had children of my own.

After my first cute and adorable child was born, even well into that experience, I still knew a lot about parenting. After all, now I was a mother; surely I could relate. I at least knew enough to still occasionally throw words like "always" or "never" at the beginning of swooping statements of wisdom. Then I had a second child. A very cute and adorable and different-from-my-first-child second child. And no, I'm not fooling myself this time into thinking now I have experienced all there is to experience. G-d has enough of a sense of humor to toss in some challenges in areas I previously knew everything about just to remind me that, like everyone else, I know nothing at all. And then I double dip. Triple dip even. I call every expert, parent and stranger I know for help. It really takes a village.

I have some talents. I have areas I am strong in. I love the early childhood years. But infancy is not my forte. In fact, even though I'd always loved children, months before S was due to arrive a couple of my friends gave birth and I became terrified to even hold their babies (let alone my own). I have no idea if I will be "good" at parenting older children and teenagers scare me. I am creative in setting up and implementing play and learning activities in my home and in classrooms. When I am outside of "the big picture" I can troubleshoot childhood challenges pretty efficiently and effectively. When I'm on the inside, I'm blind at best and overly emotional at worst. I worry. A lot. And when I run out of things to worry about in the middle of the night while everyone else is sleeping, sometimes I begin to worry about the fact that I worry.

I'm a terrible housekeeper. My husband does more than 50 percent of the cooking, housework and equally contributes on all aspects of child-rearing even if the tasks we do are different. He never ever raises his voice or loses his temper. His wife cannot say the same. (Once I heard her yelling at one of the kids about how yelling isn't nice. Yeah, really effective parenting there.) I binge watched the Marie Kondo show for three days on Netflix after which I successfully cleaned out and organized one of my three email account inboxes (photo at the top of this post for your viewing pleasure). Sometimes I put so much time and energy into setting up a play space that I am too tired afterward to join the boys in it and actually play. I'm not a morning person. Or an after 4PM person either. So yeah...that doesn't leave all that many hours of the day at which I'm at my peak, now, does it?

This house is full of toys and books and joy and giggles. And dirty laundry. And dishes. And tantrums over dinner and bedtime. And plants and children and waistlines that are growing. And glitter and dried up playdough and I don't even know what that is in the corner under the table, but I think I'll wait until the cleaning lady comes later this month and ask her to check for me and find out. I start over again daily--sometimes multiple times a day. This year was going to be different. I was going to be Mom of the Year. Then, three days into the new year, just after Rosh Hashanah, I shut Y's hand in the car trunk. He was, thank G-d, OK. I will try again next year...

Back when I was a perfect parent, friends also offered me free and often unsolicited feedback. One friend once told me lovingly I would someday make a wonderful Yiddishe Mama (Jewish mother).  She unexpectedly passed away from complications with diabetes. I really wish she could see me today and meet my boys because I want to know if she still thinks so. Another friend, although well intended, told me I would have a difficult time being a mother since I hate to be hugged and touched all day. It's true, I'm not a super touchy-feely person, but as it turns out, I can't get enough of my own kids' snuggles. That comes to the detriment of everyone else, though, because now I have even less energy for the snuggles of others.

In this age of modern technology and communication, the whole image of a village raising a child has changed. We have the propensity to be so connected in just seconds. And we have to propensity to feel isolated and lost in that. Has the village disappeared or has it changed? I'd like to think it has evolved and expanded. But just as quickly as photos of smiling happy families can give way to feelings of inadequacy and self doubt, I realize that this village will be what we make it. I belong to a number of social networking groups and most of the time, when I see a post a disagree with or feel threatened by, I scroll on. It's in my hands, after all. But today, when I saw one of those "just venting" followed by "swooping judgment of new moms"  anonymous posts, my snark caught up with me and I responded: "Ah, I used to know everything about parenting...and then I had kids of my own." I'm so blessed in this age of modern technology and communication that Facebook reminds me daily that on this day, 7 years ago, I knew so much about parenting I made a post just like this and it wasn't even anonymous. I may not have had kids yet, but boy did I have enough chutzpah to spare.

So now, I need to put my snark and my chutzpah aside. Parenthood has been one of the most humbling experiences I could ask for. It magnifies my strengths and weaknesses alike. And if it's not enough to see them in the mirror, there are two, slightly shorter versions of it traipsing around the house every day. I'm grateful for those who think I am talented and "an amazing mom" and for a few minutes, sometimes that goes to my head until the next reality check toddles into the room and reminds me otherwise. I share a lot of photos of my kids and what we're doing here. Those take about a second to snap. And in just the same amount of time, I can snap. But I don't share photos of that, because, let's be real, my Mommy-losing-her-$@#* face just isn't as adorable on film. And I don't have a selfie stick. And without one, I always have a double chin. With a few hairs. Because some ladies get that lovely pregnant glow when they become mothers for the first time and others just get the Family Beard. So as we part today, here's to you parents. To the ones I gave advice to and to the ones I seek advice from. You all rock. You're all doing A-OK! You've got this! And if you happen to know of a great and affordable option for permanent hair removal, you know where to find me...snapping a photo of a beautifully executed loose parts play provocation and cropping the dirty laundry pile out of it.  We'll be back with more posts that are actually about play and until then...

Happy Parenting!