Ramblings of a Hopeful Parent

My first foray into parenthood came in 1992. I was a woman (barely), 22 years old, and married. When our first daughter was born, I don’t recall being afraid or daunted in the least with the thought of raising a child. In fact, I don’t recall thinking about it much past breast or bottle… cloth or disposable? Looking back, I didn’t know what I didn’t know, and that ignorance was, for that time, bliss. The ensuing years are a blur in my memory. Marriage, working, going to school, and parenting. We added to the family again in 1995 a son, and… ha ha, surprise, in 1996, a daughter! There seemed to be an endless stream of snotty noses and dirty diapers. Days were filled with meals and snacks, naptimes and preschool, and plenty of disagreements with my husband about how to discipline, entertain and otherwise parent our children. I, of course, was just mean to them, while he, of course, was an idiot! During these crucial formative years I was a stay at home mom, daycare for three kids was prohibitively expensive.. I did work part time- part for the money, part for my sanity! I spent my time teaching manners and the alphabet and trying to keep the house from falling down around our ears, which was not my strong suit. These were idyllic days, in retrospect.

Parenting, at its best, is an educated guess at how to best deal with the things life throws at you. At its worst, we fly by the seat of our pants and hope like hell we all turn out ok! This is how I pretty much feel about raising my son, Mekhai.

Mekhai came as a surprise, five years after my divorce, due right around my 35th birthday… which made me “advanced maternal age”. Not the way any woman likes to think of herself! And at my advanced maternal age, the way I parented was radically different. You would think that with all of the years and number of times as I’ve been through this I could do this with my eyes closed. But I have had to put so much more thought and intention into how I do things this time around.

To be continued…

Monday, windy Monday

In my typical fashion, I so do not do Mondays... and today is no exception to the rule! The wind knocked out the power, there goes back up alarms #1 and #2 so I was a little late getting up. This in and of itself is no great catastrophe, cut a few corners, sweats instead of jeans and no Facebook... you get the drift. The trouble begins when trying to hurry the morning routine of Mini-me... AKA my four year old son, who likewise doesn't do Mondays... or more succinctly, mornings. Somehow, with an innate ability I as yet do not understand he knows, without opening his eyes, that it is one of "Those" mornings. I don't know why, I don't know how, but in my usual wake-him-up routine, I rubbed his back and arms while sing-songing some made up concoction of nonsense as I usually do, he just KNEW that today would be a perfect day to absolutely not cooperate. And he did so brilliantly, I might add. So among the melt down causing problems was, not enough green cereals in the Apple Jacks and the fact that he wanted the banana in the peel. Adding green pieces to the bowl... no problem (I learned to pick my battles, and this was not the time), but wasn't going to even attempt to put a banana back in the peel, for one, its not really about the banana, this I recognize, and for two, it was so windy my puppy refused to poop outside and did so in the dining room as soon as I turned my back, and that was now resting right on top of the banana peel in the trash. Then it was his shirt, which he put on backwards and refused to turn around... hmmmm... ok... pick my battles. Then it was the shoes, he wanted the grey ones, but could only find one. I insisted on two, this battle I won (two shoes is a must!) so he begrudgingly put on the brown shoes, mumbling under his breath, probably something about my imminent removal as his official best friend. And all of this before a proper cup of coffee... doesn't this child know I'm not wrapped too tight on a good day, never mind when I am decaffeinated? So out the door we go, eventually, only to chase trash cans and lids through the alley and fetch recyclables out of the bushes. Those stowed, its off to the daycare. Mini-me safely squared away I make my way, late at this point, to school. I did, however, stop at Maple Donuts for a coffee. "What the hell" I figured I was late anyways, plus I did not want to further endanger the well being of others, it was the best choice, truly.