Parenting. This raising of young.
By: Melissa ( Diaz) Neely
"You don't know what it's like to have all this pressure on YOU, this weight on YOUR shoulders. Knowing that if the end product is askew, it's because of YOUR faulty planning or workmanship."
He retorted, to my suggestion that he build the home himself, from the ground up.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a wall around my heart crumbled a little. It's a completely unrelated subject, but his words finally expressed the stress and frustration quietly building up within me.
Parenting. This raising of young.
Guide them- don't control them! Teach them- don't force them! Routine is good! Routine is bad- teach them to adapt! Public school is good! Private school is best! Home schooling is the only option! Organic, enviro-friendly, non gmo! No fluoride! Yes, fluoride! Vaccines are the devil! You are the devil if you don't vaccinate! Family doctor or pediatrician?! Don't force gender specific colors! Or toys! If they don't like a sport- dropout! Never allow dropping out! Expose them to the real world! They're too young to know what death is!
Questions and debates I had already settled for myself. I'd already decided, planted my foot and lived in the bliss of not questioning/researching/comparing. And somehow, without realizing, the doubts and fears and uncertainty crept back in. How did I get here again? How did I circle back to this point again?
Healthy eating habits, self control, polite, respectful, aware, personal hygiene, style, self confident, self-reliant.
Age appropriate accomplishments. Age appropriate maturity.
"My six year old makes and packs their own school lunch every day!"
"My four year old sweeps and dusts!"
"My kids make their beds without being told!"
Hello, doubt. Hello, sinking feeling. Welcome back, Stress. Nice to meet you, Mr. Inadequate.
And I greet them. I, alone. Because, it's on me. It's my responsibility. It's my worry. It's my weight. It's my job.
Who else would decide if they should brush their teeth after breakfast? Who else would enforce it?
Who else, instead of reaching for the strewn pajamas, calls for the owner of Hello Kitty and Sponge bob Karate pants to remind, to train, to give the opportunity for responsibility?
Who else decides the menu for dinner? Where to shop, what brand to buy?
Yes, it's a weight. And a pressure. And a burden.
And, at the end of the day,
when a fit is thrown at the family reunion,
when sibling fights escalate to biting, hitting, slapping,
when bomb pop wrappers are discarded on the ground,
when a toy is ripped from the neighbor child's grasp,
when uncaring words fly,
when whining for gum or candy or PLEEEEEEEEEEASE JUST ONE TOY resounds through Wal Mart...
It's my face that burns.
Because, really, isn't that a revelation of my poor parenting?
And so, with heaviness, frustration, and a lump in my throat, I pull out my notebook, schedule dinner out with --my supporter, my 'I'll help in any way I can', my 'Mr. Fix It Man, my listener, my encourager, my LOVE--- and prepare to take a nitty gritty look at our family.
We'll strategize, re-focus, set goals and boundaries.
We'll get back on track.
We'll answer the swirling questions, allay the doubts and fears.
Confidence and Strength, this is your Save The Date. Invitation soon to follow.