My oldest starts First Grade next week...He is pumped. We got to tour his new classroom and meet his teacher today. She seems enthusiastic, welcoming, and sensitive to the individual needs of each of her students-- perfect for our boy. This is actually a multi-age classroom our son will be in, with 1st and 2nd graders combined, so he will be spending the next TWO years in this same classroom, first as a "newbie" and then as an "old fogey." This will be a great experience for him. He is in the right place.
And yet, I feel a sort of peer pressure among many of my mom-acquaintances-- a sense of being judged (not directly, of course, but indirectly) for my choice to send my child to a public school. Homeschooling is apparently a big thing up here, and several of my friends homeschool their kids. They have their reasons, and I'm sure they're good ones. They are doing a great thing for their children, as long as it works for them, as it certainly seems to. Their kids are smart, happy, kind, sociable...I admire these moms' hard work to educate their own children in their own home, 24/7 every day...
But I couldn't do it. Okay, okay, I could, if I really had to, if it was what worked best for my child over the public system (and I suspect this may turn out to be the case in the future for my middle son, but time will tell). But it would take more focus and energy than I feel capable of putting into it at this time in my life. And that is okay. My children will be fine.
I was visiting with one of my home-schooling friends one day and we got on the subject of her decision to homeschool her kids (her oldest had started out in public school), which I fully support. But at one point as she was talking, I caught the implication that she believed that mothers who sent their kids to public schools were mostly just being "lazy," that it was "easier" for them, that parents who put their kids in public school were not as involved in their kids' education as she was as a homeschooling mom. While she may be right in a way (see my above paragraph), I think it is unfair to judge all (or even most) public school moms in this way.
I don't send my kid to public school because I don't want to be involved in his education. On the contrary, I am still very involved in his education-- his personal education. I can and do teach him things at home that he will never learn in public school. And I regularly supplement what he does learn in school with at-home discussions (which he often initiates himself) about what he is learning.
As for public school being easier, ha. I don't have the luxury of letting my kid sleep in (which I would totally do otherwise, not to say that's what homeschooling moms do, it's just what I would do)-- or myself for that matter-- in the morning, as he has to be at school at a certain time. And that also means fighting him at night to go to bed early (though to be fair most of the fight is with his younger brothers, who make it hard for Big Brother to sleep if they are not also in bed). Before I send him out the door, I make sure he has everything he needs. And when he comes home, I make sure he still has everything he left with. We had to walk back to the school several times last year after discovering he'd left his lunchbox, or a hat, or a mitten behind. I go through any paperwork his teacher has sent home, keep track of dates and events, and of course supervise his homework. This is not the labor of an "uninvolved" parent.
Then, there is the attitude many well-meaning homeschooling moms seem to have, that homeschooling is best, and any mom who truly wanted the best for her child would homeschool (or send him to Montessori*); that kids educated via the public system have received an inferior education and will never be allowed to reach their own individualized potential or to think for themselves but will rather simply become mindless drones in society, accepting whatever information is fed to them. Hogswash.
If I did decide to homeschool right now, I would not
be doing my kid a favor...I am so terribly disorganized and
undisciplined (this could and likely would be different if I didn't have
small children, imagine that), and G really needs more consistency and
structure if he is going to thrive education-wise. In other words, the
classroom setting is definitely better for him than what I could
provide.
Any child, no matter what kind of "school" he attends, will always be able to thrive as an individual, provided he has support from the adults in his life-- mainly his parents-- to do so. And this is something that parents can and should give their children regardless of where they go to school. And I strive to do exactly that for my own children.
In fact, I believe as a public school mom, that in many ways my job is actually going to be harder than that of a homeschooling mom (so much for being lazy).
When you are homeschooling, you have control. You can teach your child whatever you want him to learn, when you are ready to teach it; and if you think he is not ready for a certain topic of discussion yet, then you simply don't bring it up. You can still teach your kid about "the facts of life" (and I'm not just talking about sex) but in a much safer and more controlled environment.
As a public school parent, on the other hand, I expect my son to come home having been exposed to many different, and sometimes shocking, ideas and experiences that he may or may not have been mentally or emotionally prepared for. But this is why I work hard to cultivate a relationship with my son, to keep communication channels open and inviting and my attitude non-judgmental. So, I hope he will feel comfortable sharing these experiences and ideas with me, so that we can discus them openly and without embarrassment, so that I can help him to think critically and come to his own informed conclusions about the world, even if (and perhaps especially if) they turn out to differ from my own.
The most important thing I can do for my children is not to homeschool them, but to make their home life-- when they are home-- a pleasant and inviting one. They will go to school, but they will always come home, and I will be waiting for them with open arms and a smile. I will be their "home base."
I just spent a whole summer with all three boys at home with me all day every day, and I will tell you I really am a better, more pleasant, and more patient mother when I have had a break. So, off to school they go (well, my oldest anyway), and may we all benefit from the intermittent separation. It truly is the best thing for our family.
You do what's best for yours.
*which I casually looked up the other day and discovered that the monthly tuition for such a school is almost as much as the mortgage on our new house! Yipes! Umm, I would have to get a full-time job to send him there...then I really would be an absent parent...
Friday, August 23, 2013
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
The House Hunt
We are buying a house!
While I've posted a bit on FB about this, the thought of writing a blog post has felt a bit daunting...what to write? Where to start?
Remember that post I wrote a while back about being content with the space we had (our 2 br condo), and just doing what we could to maximize that space? We tried really really really hard to do just that.
It didn't quite work...Not long after we decided we needed to rent a storage unit (sometime in late May/early June), we decided rather suddenly that it was simply time to seriously explore our options as to finding a larger home for our growing family. In our research, we found that it was actually more possible than we had previously thought. So we started moving forward. We are fortunate in that Nick's parents were able to qualify for a home loan to buy a house for us, until we are able to qualify ourselves, so we don't have to wait until we sell the condo; but we will be making the payments (like we're "renting" the house from them, only when we take over the mortgage the amount we've already paid towards the home will be deducted-- it's a pretty sweet deal for us, as it will cheaper still to do it that way than to rent). I am ever so grateful for my in-laws, and touched that they trust us that much.
As a note, because some might wonder why we don't just rent our condo...We have looked into renting our condo, and will end up doing that if we can't sell it by early September (which is when we move into our new house). However, new lending regulations require a home to be rented out for at least two years before the mortgage on that home no longer counts against the loan limit. So, we will try to sell the condo first; if that does not work, or we cannot get a high enough offer (we owe more on the condo than what it is currently worth, but are prepared to make up the difference up to a certain amount), then we will start renting.
It was a little stressful, putting our condo on the market and beginning the house hunt, not knowing if/when we would manage to actually sell our condo or find a new home. We worked hard, repainting our condo and doing minor repairs, filling up a small storage unit with stuff to make our condo less cluttered for showings. I had anxious visions of us selling our condo, but then not having a new home to move into; or on the other hand, finding the house we wanted to buy but then not being able to sell our condo and ending up with two house payments. But we prayed and did our best to do all we could and follow the promptings of the Spirit.
We ended up viewing seven or eight houses total, but none of them felt quite right. We did find a large house in a good neighborhood, a foreclosure and a major fixer-upper. We did make an offer on that house, but with little hope of success as there was already a previous offer on it. Nick really liked that house...I never really felt quite right about it, worried about the amount of work that would need to be done and wondering how we would be able to make the time to work on it in order to make it just livable. All of the homes we viewed that would actually be suitable for our family would have required a good deal of fix-up work. All of the homes, except one...the final home we looked at...
Last week, Nick was gone on a fifty-mile hike for five days. We had not discussed before he left what I should do in his absence. I figured I would continue to house hunt, just in case, but didn't expect to find anything...I tooled around on the MLS and hammered our buyer's agent with new listings, which she looked into but told me she didn't think they would work for us (based on previous homes we'd visited with her). On Monday afternoon, I found a new listing that had been up for just a few days; it looked promising, so I called my agent about it. She thought it was worth looking at, so we scheduled a showing for the next day.
Prior to the showing, I said a prayer for guidance. With how quickly all the good and affordable homes were being snatched up, I realized it might be necessary to make an immediate offer on a home if it turned out to be suitable. While my agent assured me that I could make an offer on a home, and we could still back out later if Nick did not approve, I was still pretty nervous about making a mistake and Nick being upset with me. So before I viewed this home, I prayed to God to let me know-- to give me a feeling-- right away whether or not it would be a good home for our family.
I drove to the house and the first thing I noticed--which had not been apparent from the pictures--was the very steep driveway, which was not a good first impression. But, I was already here and figured I'd go ahead and view the rest of the house. I pulled up onto the driveway and put on my parking brake. The boys and I got out of the car and explored the yard while we waited for our agent. She finally showed up, and we viewed the rest of the house.
It was a nice enough house. A bit of a fixer-upper, but nothing insurmountable, and in better shape than the previous house we'd made an offer on. Generally, I would have been inclined to like it-- it certainly had everything Nick would want in a house, including a fireplace in the living room and a wood-burning stove downstairs. The boys would have enjoyed the yard. It had four bedrooms, and plenty of room. The kitchen was not exceptional, but I could have been happy in it...But even as I registered all its good qualities, I could not forget about that steep driveway, and the sinking feeling I'd felt upon first pulling up. I knew it wasn't the right house for us, and I finally told my agent, who seemed a little disappointed (even she thought it was the perfect house for us), but was supportive of my decision and we left. I got the boys back into the car, and pulled out. My rear bumper scraped the road as I backed out! Yet another confirmation that I had made a the right choice...
After this experience, I was starting to feel a little discouraged. At this point, every promising listing had been explored, and there was nothing left. And yet, that same afternoon, I once again found myself perusing the MLS, willing myself to find something I'd missed before. I was little obsessive about it, really. I must have done the same search four or five times that day, with still the same results, until...
I found a brand new listing! There it was, with "New Listing!" in bold green letters. I clicked on the listing and began to read the details...I immediately called up my agent and asked her to schedule a showing, which she did for the following day.
As I had done with the previous house, once again I prayed for guidance, and for good measure spent a whole hour the next morning in scripture study and meditation. It felt good, and I was at peace. Even before I actually saw the house, I had a good feeling about it. Once I finally walked into the place, all my good impressions were confirmed and I knew it was the home for us. I called up my mother-in-law, and she and our agent wrote up and submitted the offer the evening of that very same day (it was Wednesday).
Ours was the first offer to be submitted. We learned after that that there had been several other showings after ours. This house was in huge demand, and we were ever so lucky to be the first offer in line...Though I don't really believe it was thanks to luck alone, but God guiding me and my desire to follow His promptings in my efforts to find a good home, that led me to find that listing when I did.
Still, I was apprehensive about what Nick would say, how he would feel, when I announced to him that I'd made an offer on a house without him...Sure enough, when he finally got back home and I shared the news with him, he was a little upset, and understandably so. I was nothing but accepting of his feelings and apprehensions, though, and did my best to reassure him and be sensitive to how he must be feeling (I would have had similar anxieties had he gone and made an offer without me). He, too, generously granted me the benefit of his trust as much as he was able, and we had an open dialogue over the next few days as we awaited the time he would get to view the house for himself (the current residents didn't want the house being shown without one of them present to keep an eye on things). He finally did, yesterday afternoon, and officially gave it his seal of approval.
We are scheduled to close on or before September 6th. We're pretty excited :) A detailed description of the house itself will be given in another post, this one is long enough ;)
And if all goes according to plan, we will never have to move again...that will be sweet...
While I've posted a bit on FB about this, the thought of writing a blog post has felt a bit daunting...what to write? Where to start?
Remember that post I wrote a while back about being content with the space we had (our 2 br condo), and just doing what we could to maximize that space? We tried really really really hard to do just that.
It didn't quite work...Not long after we decided we needed to rent a storage unit (sometime in late May/early June), we decided rather suddenly that it was simply time to seriously explore our options as to finding a larger home for our growing family. In our research, we found that it was actually more possible than we had previously thought. So we started moving forward. We are fortunate in that Nick's parents were able to qualify for a home loan to buy a house for us, until we are able to qualify ourselves, so we don't have to wait until we sell the condo; but we will be making the payments (like we're "renting" the house from them, only when we take over the mortgage the amount we've already paid towards the home will be deducted-- it's a pretty sweet deal for us, as it will cheaper still to do it that way than to rent). I am ever so grateful for my in-laws, and touched that they trust us that much.
As a note, because some might wonder why we don't just rent our condo...We have looked into renting our condo, and will end up doing that if we can't sell it by early September (which is when we move into our new house). However, new lending regulations require a home to be rented out for at least two years before the mortgage on that home no longer counts against the loan limit. So, we will try to sell the condo first; if that does not work, or we cannot get a high enough offer (we owe more on the condo than what it is currently worth, but are prepared to make up the difference up to a certain amount), then we will start renting.
It was a little stressful, putting our condo on the market and beginning the house hunt, not knowing if/when we would manage to actually sell our condo or find a new home. We worked hard, repainting our condo and doing minor repairs, filling up a small storage unit with stuff to make our condo less cluttered for showings. I had anxious visions of us selling our condo, but then not having a new home to move into; or on the other hand, finding the house we wanted to buy but then not being able to sell our condo and ending up with two house payments. But we prayed and did our best to do all we could and follow the promptings of the Spirit.
We ended up viewing seven or eight houses total, but none of them felt quite right. We did find a large house in a good neighborhood, a foreclosure and a major fixer-upper. We did make an offer on that house, but with little hope of success as there was already a previous offer on it. Nick really liked that house...I never really felt quite right about it, worried about the amount of work that would need to be done and wondering how we would be able to make the time to work on it in order to make it just livable. All of the homes we viewed that would actually be suitable for our family would have required a good deal of fix-up work. All of the homes, except one...the final home we looked at...
Last week, Nick was gone on a fifty-mile hike for five days. We had not discussed before he left what I should do in his absence. I figured I would continue to house hunt, just in case, but didn't expect to find anything...I tooled around on the MLS and hammered our buyer's agent with new listings, which she looked into but told me she didn't think they would work for us (based on previous homes we'd visited with her). On Monday afternoon, I found a new listing that had been up for just a few days; it looked promising, so I called my agent about it. She thought it was worth looking at, so we scheduled a showing for the next day.
Prior to the showing, I said a prayer for guidance. With how quickly all the good and affordable homes were being snatched up, I realized it might be necessary to make an immediate offer on a home if it turned out to be suitable. While my agent assured me that I could make an offer on a home, and we could still back out later if Nick did not approve, I was still pretty nervous about making a mistake and Nick being upset with me. So before I viewed this home, I prayed to God to let me know-- to give me a feeling-- right away whether or not it would be a good home for our family.
I drove to the house and the first thing I noticed--which had not been apparent from the pictures--was the very steep driveway, which was not a good first impression. But, I was already here and figured I'd go ahead and view the rest of the house. I pulled up onto the driveway and put on my parking brake. The boys and I got out of the car and explored the yard while we waited for our agent. She finally showed up, and we viewed the rest of the house.
It was a nice enough house. A bit of a fixer-upper, but nothing insurmountable, and in better shape than the previous house we'd made an offer on. Generally, I would have been inclined to like it-- it certainly had everything Nick would want in a house, including a fireplace in the living room and a wood-burning stove downstairs. The boys would have enjoyed the yard. It had four bedrooms, and plenty of room. The kitchen was not exceptional, but I could have been happy in it...But even as I registered all its good qualities, I could not forget about that steep driveway, and the sinking feeling I'd felt upon first pulling up. I knew it wasn't the right house for us, and I finally told my agent, who seemed a little disappointed (even she thought it was the perfect house for us), but was supportive of my decision and we left. I got the boys back into the car, and pulled out. My rear bumper scraped the road as I backed out! Yet another confirmation that I had made a the right choice...
After this experience, I was starting to feel a little discouraged. At this point, every promising listing had been explored, and there was nothing left. And yet, that same afternoon, I once again found myself perusing the MLS, willing myself to find something I'd missed before. I was little obsessive about it, really. I must have done the same search four or five times that day, with still the same results, until...
I found a brand new listing! There it was, with "New Listing!" in bold green letters. I clicked on the listing and began to read the details...I immediately called up my agent and asked her to schedule a showing, which she did for the following day.
As I had done with the previous house, once again I prayed for guidance, and for good measure spent a whole hour the next morning in scripture study and meditation. It felt good, and I was at peace. Even before I actually saw the house, I had a good feeling about it. Once I finally walked into the place, all my good impressions were confirmed and I knew it was the home for us. I called up my mother-in-law, and she and our agent wrote up and submitted the offer the evening of that very same day (it was Wednesday).
Ours was the first offer to be submitted. We learned after that that there had been several other showings after ours. This house was in huge demand, and we were ever so lucky to be the first offer in line...Though I don't really believe it was thanks to luck alone, but God guiding me and my desire to follow His promptings in my efforts to find a good home, that led me to find that listing when I did.
Still, I was apprehensive about what Nick would say, how he would feel, when I announced to him that I'd made an offer on a house without him...Sure enough, when he finally got back home and I shared the news with him, he was a little upset, and understandably so. I was nothing but accepting of his feelings and apprehensions, though, and did my best to reassure him and be sensitive to how he must be feeling (I would have had similar anxieties had he gone and made an offer without me). He, too, generously granted me the benefit of his trust as much as he was able, and we had an open dialogue over the next few days as we awaited the time he would get to view the house for himself (the current residents didn't want the house being shown without one of them present to keep an eye on things). He finally did, yesterday afternoon, and officially gave it his seal of approval.
We are scheduled to close on or before September 6th. We're pretty excited :) A detailed description of the house itself will be given in another post, this one is long enough ;)
And if all goes according to plan, we will never have to move again...that will be sweet...
Saturday, July 13, 2013
So you think you know what it means to be a Parent?
Being a parent is more than just childcare; it is more than providing discipline, structure, love and nurturing, protection, education and behavioral modeling. You may have studied all these things. You may have read every "parenting" book on the market. You may believe you know exactly how you plan to raise your children, when you do have children.
But until you actually become a parent, you cannot fully comprehend what it is to be a parent.
Looking up "parenting" on dictionary.com, I found myself latching on to one particular idea: the adjective "parent" is defined as "being the original source." Biologically speaking, this means that if you are a child's parent, you are the "source" from which that child came. But there is so much more than biology that goes into being a parent.
Being a parent means being the First: the First to love your child as your whole world, and the First to wish he'd never been born (fleeting though those thoughts are, they can still creep in unbidden); the First to help your child, and the First to hurt his feelings; the First looked up to when he needs a role model, and the First to disappoint when he realizes you're not infallible; the First to cheer him on, and the first to criticize. You get the idea...
A child has many adult influences in his life-- teachers, grandparents, aunts and uncles, neighbors...But none of these people has as much inherent power to influence him as does his own parent. When you are a parent, you realize (either consciously or subconsciously) that every single thing you say or do to, with, or for your child, has the power to affect the rest of his life. This is the awesome responsibility and burden of being a parent. Now, you may believe that you shoulder this responsibility for a child in your life who is not your biological offspring, and if so then congratulations (or condolences)-- you can consider yourself a Parent. Otherwise, you just don't know...
It is so easy for some other adult to observe my children and think he or she has the perfect answer to how to deal with their problem behaviors. For example, it's easy enough for a well-meaning individual to suggest to me that I put my baby in a crib to "cry it out" to sleep at night, and that this will cause him to start sleeping through the night and our whole family will be able to sleep better, be livelier, etc. etc. But when I consider this option as a parent, suddenly it all becomes much more complicated. Maybe crying-it-out will help my child to sleep better-- but maybe it will also have other effects, not all positive. Maybe he will come to believe that I won't respond to him when he needs me. Maybe he will be sick one night but he won't cry to let me know. Not to suggest that parents who use this method of getting their children to sleep are bad parents, or that their children will necessarily grow up with abandonment issues. Just that for me, personally, the worry associated with this method was not worth it for me to try, so I didn't-- the consequence being (perhaps) that I now have a 3-year-old who still struggles to sleep at night (then again, my 6-year-old has always slept just fine).
But this is not a post to discuss the ups and downs of sleep training. And I will confess to not having all the answers there-- even after having my third child, I'm still figuring it out.
Parenting is not a static process. What is often referred to as a "parenting style" will constantly change and evolve over time as a person "grows" into his or her role as a parent. I am not the same person now as I was when I had my first child, and I have "parented" each of my children a little differently so far. I made mistakes with my first child, that I tried not to repeat with my second (I did some things right, too); I made a whole lot of mistakes with my second, that I vowed not to repeat with my third. Oh gosh, did I ever mess up with my second...Of all my children, he is the one I worry about most, and the one for whom I am most sensitive whenever anyone tries to "advise" me on how to parent him. Not because those people might not be right in their advice, but because I already know what I've done and am doing wrong, but they are not in my shoes and cannot understand the particular dynamic that has brought me and my son to where we are now.
With my third, I finally am getting to a point where I more or less know what I'm doing, but even there I worry about the little mistakes I've made...
Being a parent means constantly second-guessing every word and every action. It means being painfully aware of your child's misbehavior, and feeling powerless to stop it. Or finally figuring out how to fix one problem, while being immediately presented with another (sometimes as a direct result of "fixing" the first). Being a parent is learning to accept your child as his own person, and learning to let go of the need to control him because you were under the faulty assumption that you could, in fact, take full control over how your child turned out. Yet at the same time, you will always feel responsible; you will berate yourself over and over again with the belief that every bad thing your child has done is somehow a direct result of something you did (or didn't do) sometime in his early life, and you will feel a sense of accomplishment every time you witness your child doing something good.
See, I've only been a parent for six and a half years, so the above paragraph is something that even I do not have a full grasp on yet, but my realization of these things sprouts a little more every day as I watch my children grow.
Being a parent means exuding confidence as you teach, discipline, and guide your children, while inwardly cringing at your own ineptitude and wondering if you're really doing the best thing for your child.
Parenting a child means learning to understand him as an individual-- to be responsive, and to adapt your "parenting style" to his particular personality and needs. One of the mistakes I made with my second child was to assume that everything I did with my first (which for the most part worked pretty well) would work equally well with my second. This kind of assumption-- that all children are the same-- may work in a classroom or daycare setting (indeed, I assume it pretty much has to be this way, because employing thirty different methods of dscipline and care all at the same time would be impossible for one person), but it doesn't work as well in a parent-child relationship.
Of all the adults in my child's life, I believe my husband and I are the ones whom our children should be allowed to feel the most comfortable with, to be themselves (warts and all). I would rather have my child be himself with me (where I can still have some influence to gently guide him and help him to change if necessary) and employ his skills of tact and facade with others, than to put on a front of good behavior for me but secretly misbehave when I'm not around (or believe that he can't express himself in front of me because I might get mad).
So, you really think you know what it means to be a parent? Good for you. Do share. Because I'm still trying to figure it out.
Maybe we can figure it out together...
But until you actually become a parent, you cannot fully comprehend what it is to be a parent.
Looking up "parenting" on dictionary.com, I found myself latching on to one particular idea: the adjective "parent" is defined as "being the original source." Biologically speaking, this means that if you are a child's parent, you are the "source" from which that child came. But there is so much more than biology that goes into being a parent.
Being a parent means being the First: the First to love your child as your whole world, and the First to wish he'd never been born (fleeting though those thoughts are, they can still creep in unbidden); the First to help your child, and the First to hurt his feelings; the First looked up to when he needs a role model, and the First to disappoint when he realizes you're not infallible; the First to cheer him on, and the first to criticize. You get the idea...
A child has many adult influences in his life-- teachers, grandparents, aunts and uncles, neighbors...But none of these people has as much inherent power to influence him as does his own parent. When you are a parent, you realize (either consciously or subconsciously) that every single thing you say or do to, with, or for your child, has the power to affect the rest of his life. This is the awesome responsibility and burden of being a parent. Now, you may believe that you shoulder this responsibility for a child in your life who is not your biological offspring, and if so then congratulations (or condolences)-- you can consider yourself a Parent. Otherwise, you just don't know...
It is so easy for some other adult to observe my children and think he or she has the perfect answer to how to deal with their problem behaviors. For example, it's easy enough for a well-meaning individual to suggest to me that I put my baby in a crib to "cry it out" to sleep at night, and that this will cause him to start sleeping through the night and our whole family will be able to sleep better, be livelier, etc. etc. But when I consider this option as a parent, suddenly it all becomes much more complicated. Maybe crying-it-out will help my child to sleep better-- but maybe it will also have other effects, not all positive. Maybe he will come to believe that I won't respond to him when he needs me. Maybe he will be sick one night but he won't cry to let me know. Not to suggest that parents who use this method of getting their children to sleep are bad parents, or that their children will necessarily grow up with abandonment issues. Just that for me, personally, the worry associated with this method was not worth it for me to try, so I didn't-- the consequence being (perhaps) that I now have a 3-year-old who still struggles to sleep at night (then again, my 6-year-old has always slept just fine).
But this is not a post to discuss the ups and downs of sleep training. And I will confess to not having all the answers there-- even after having my third child, I'm still figuring it out.
Parenting is not a static process. What is often referred to as a "parenting style" will constantly change and evolve over time as a person "grows" into his or her role as a parent. I am not the same person now as I was when I had my first child, and I have "parented" each of my children a little differently so far. I made mistakes with my first child, that I tried not to repeat with my second (I did some things right, too); I made a whole lot of mistakes with my second, that I vowed not to repeat with my third. Oh gosh, did I ever mess up with my second...Of all my children, he is the one I worry about most, and the one for whom I am most sensitive whenever anyone tries to "advise" me on how to parent him. Not because those people might not be right in their advice, but because I already know what I've done and am doing wrong, but they are not in my shoes and cannot understand the particular dynamic that has brought me and my son to where we are now.
With my third, I finally am getting to a point where I more or less know what I'm doing, but even there I worry about the little mistakes I've made...
Being a parent means constantly second-guessing every word and every action. It means being painfully aware of your child's misbehavior, and feeling powerless to stop it. Or finally figuring out how to fix one problem, while being immediately presented with another (sometimes as a direct result of "fixing" the first). Being a parent is learning to accept your child as his own person, and learning to let go of the need to control him because you were under the faulty assumption that you could, in fact, take full control over how your child turned out. Yet at the same time, you will always feel responsible; you will berate yourself over and over again with the belief that every bad thing your child has done is somehow a direct result of something you did (or didn't do) sometime in his early life, and you will feel a sense of accomplishment every time you witness your child doing something good.
See, I've only been a parent for six and a half years, so the above paragraph is something that even I do not have a full grasp on yet, but my realization of these things sprouts a little more every day as I watch my children grow.
Being a parent means exuding confidence as you teach, discipline, and guide your children, while inwardly cringing at your own ineptitude and wondering if you're really doing the best thing for your child.
Parenting a child means learning to understand him as an individual-- to be responsive, and to adapt your "parenting style" to his particular personality and needs. One of the mistakes I made with my second child was to assume that everything I did with my first (which for the most part worked pretty well) would work equally well with my second. This kind of assumption-- that all children are the same-- may work in a classroom or daycare setting (indeed, I assume it pretty much has to be this way, because employing thirty different methods of dscipline and care all at the same time would be impossible for one person), but it doesn't work as well in a parent-child relationship.
Of all the adults in my child's life, I believe my husband and I are the ones whom our children should be allowed to feel the most comfortable with, to be themselves (warts and all). I would rather have my child be himself with me (where I can still have some influence to gently guide him and help him to change if necessary) and employ his skills of tact and facade with others, than to put on a front of good behavior for me but secretly misbehave when I'm not around (or believe that he can't express himself in front of me because I might get mad).
So, you really think you know what it means to be a parent? Good for you. Do share. Because I'm still trying to figure it out.
Maybe we can figure it out together...
Friday, July 5, 2013
Five Daily Habits Every Boy Needs to Learn Before He Becomes a Man
If you are already a Man, developing and maintaining these
habits are guaranteed to make your wife or girlfriend very happy. If you are a
parent raising a Boy, help him to develop these habits now so that they are
well-ingrained in him by the time he moves out.
--These two
areas can get really nasty really fast. But a little daily maintenance can make
the job of whoever is assigned to clean the bathroom weekly a little easier and
less disgusting.
--A clean
floor makes the whole room and house feel cleaner, and may just save your wife’s
(or mother’s) sanity. It also makes it easier for the floor to be vacuumed
regularly.
--Makes the
job a little easier for whoever is washing the dishes that night. I say place
the dishes on the counter versus into the sink, because for me personally I don’t
like having dishes just thrown helter-skelter into the sink as I just end up
having to rearrange everything before I can wash them (but I currently don’t
have a dishwasher so am washing everything by hand).
--There is
no quicker way to make a place look untidy than by throwing around some old
laundry. And it takes hardly any more effort to hang up a shirt than it takes
to drop it on the floor. But if you don’t take care of your clothes yourself,
no one else is going to want to have to handle your used laundry—at least not
until it’s time to actually do the
laundry.
FIVE: If you generate a piece of trash (gum wrapper, clothing tag, etc), dispose of it properly right away. And while you're at it, if you go to throw something away and the trash can is full, empty it out.
--Litter is bad enough on the street. Who wants to deal with it in their home?
That's it. As a mother of three boys (so far), I plan on beginning to develop these habits in my own sons NOW. They're still pretty young, but it's never too early to start, and my oldest is definitely old enough for most of these (maybe not taking out the trash yet).
I need a good picture now so I can put this on Pinterest haha...
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Top Ten Reasons Why I Don't Wear Makeup
Top Ten Reasons Why I Don't Wear Makeup:
1. The cheap stuff is awful.
2. The good stuff is too expensive.
3. I like my face the way it is.
4. I believe my facial skin is much healthier-- and doesn't require special cleansers or creams-- because I don't wear makeup.
5. Ever tried to take an afternoon nap with makeup on?
6. I don't have a job that requires it.
7. If you're used to seeing a woman in makeup and then one day she doesn't wear it she will look awfully tired and worn out. Everyone is used to seeing me without makeup, so I always look the same.
8. My mother never wore makeup.
9. I have more time to spend on other things because I'm not spending so much time fussing with my face.
10. My purse is a whole lot lighter and less cluttered.`
1. The cheap stuff is awful.
2. The good stuff is too expensive.
3. I like my face the way it is.
4. I believe my facial skin is much healthier-- and doesn't require special cleansers or creams-- because I don't wear makeup.
5. Ever tried to take an afternoon nap with makeup on?
6. I don't have a job that requires it.
7. If you're used to seeing a woman in makeup and then one day she doesn't wear it she will look awfully tired and worn out. Everyone is used to seeing me without makeup, so I always look the same.
8. My mother never wore makeup.
9. I have more time to spend on other things because I'm not spending so much time fussing with my face.
10. My purse is a whole lot lighter and less cluttered.`
Monday, May 6, 2013
We Have a Talker
C's Top Ten First Words
(in no particular order)
Dad ("da")
Mama ("muh")
Bye-bye ("buh buh")
No ("nuh")
Stuck ("duhk")
Dance ("da")
Up ("uh-p")
Nana
Bath ("ba-f")
Milk ("muh-k")
I know it's not unheard-of for toddlers to talk at 14 months, but considering neither of my older boys said more than a handful of words before 18 months, it's really exciting and different for us to have a kid talking this early.
:)
(in no particular order)
Dad ("da")
Mama ("muh")
Bye-bye ("buh buh")
No ("nuh")
Stuck ("duhk")
Dance ("da")
Up ("uh-p")
Nana
Bath ("ba-f")
Milk ("muh-k")
I know it's not unheard-of for toddlers to talk at 14 months, but considering neither of my older boys said more than a handful of words before 18 months, it's really exciting and different for us to have a kid talking this early.
:)
Friday, May 3, 2013
Destructo-Boy
I cannot keep my 14-mo out of ANYTHING! As a prime example, we've had to progressively increase the security/barricade around our computer desk; he's worked his way around every single obstacle and we are out of options (he's even figured out how to push stuff out of the way and crawl under our bed). Just today, he climbed up onto the stool, pulled out the keyboard tray and climbed onto the tray, then climbed onto the main desk, just to get to the telephone.
We can still keep him out of a room as long as the door's shut tight; but it's only a matter of time before he figures out how to turn a doorknob (he's already attempted it). He's figured out that he can bring things over to stand on to boost his height to get onto high furniture or (hasn't done it yet, but probably will soon) climb over a gate. This kid is sharp. And we're barely one step ahead.
And he is darn determined. It doesn't matter how many times he falls and bumps his head, he'll get right back up and try again and again to do the impossible (like climbing a vertical bookshelf, yes he's tried that too) because it's his destiny!
Neither of my other boys was nearly this difficult. I thought Z was difficult, but I had no idea...
He used to be such a laid-back, happy, enjoyable little guy. And often he still is. But more and more it's just getting so frustrating for all of us, because he has no concept of danger, he's too young to discipline, and distraction only works if it involves nursing or food or going outside (all of which require my complete involvement). My other boys are frustrated (especially my oldest) because he's always getting into their things and breaking their Lego creations or tearing their books or interfering with their video game etc. He has a royal fit every time we remove him from a dangerous situation (either dangerous to him or dangerous to whatever he's trying to get into).
Yesterday he pulled the stroller down on himself. He's knocked over the coat tree and our floor lamp. He still tries to eat everything and we're having to box up more and more stuff (particularly books) because there is nowhere else safe to put it. Our house is a disaster area. And every time I think I finally have it toddler-safe again, he figures out some new trick to get into a place I thought was secure.
So if you see me around with missing chunks of hair on my scalp, please be sympathetic. And lend me your cap.
We can still keep him out of a room as long as the door's shut tight; but it's only a matter of time before he figures out how to turn a doorknob (he's already attempted it). He's figured out that he can bring things over to stand on to boost his height to get onto high furniture or (hasn't done it yet, but probably will soon) climb over a gate. This kid is sharp. And we're barely one step ahead.
And he is darn determined. It doesn't matter how many times he falls and bumps his head, he'll get right back up and try again and again to do the impossible (like climbing a vertical bookshelf, yes he's tried that too) because it's his destiny!
Neither of my other boys was nearly this difficult. I thought Z was difficult, but I had no idea...
He used to be such a laid-back, happy, enjoyable little guy. And often he still is. But more and more it's just getting so frustrating for all of us, because he has no concept of danger, he's too young to discipline, and distraction only works if it involves nursing or food or going outside (all of which require my complete involvement). My other boys are frustrated (especially my oldest) because he's always getting into their things and breaking their Lego creations or tearing their books or interfering with their video game etc. He has a royal fit every time we remove him from a dangerous situation (either dangerous to him or dangerous to whatever he's trying to get into).
Yesterday he pulled the stroller down on himself. He's knocked over the coat tree and our floor lamp. He still tries to eat everything and we're having to box up more and more stuff (particularly books) because there is nowhere else safe to put it. Our house is a disaster area. And every time I think I finally have it toddler-safe again, he figures out some new trick to get into a place I thought was secure.
So if you see me around with missing chunks of hair on my scalp, please be sympathetic. And lend me your cap.
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