20 Things I'm Realizing as a Parent

Photo by Lisa Turner Photography. Please do not use without written permission from myself and Lisa. Thank you.

I spent a lot of time yesterday thinking about parenting. The way I was parented then, the way I'm parented now (you can't tell me your parents don't still parent you in some way!). The type of kid I was then, the type of 'kid' I am now. The way I'm parenting, the way I want to parent.

Especially as I'm a parent to a very young child, I want to make it clear that I'm learning. Always learning. By the moment, by the hour, by the day. So feel free to scoff and completely write off this list, because my kid is only two. I certainly don't know everything; I'm certain I never will. 

But here -- here are some things I'm realizing. Take them, leave them. Hate them, love them.

1. I said it above, but I'm going to say it again. We will never know everything. What we should strive to understand is what works for our children and for our family. No one is experiencing what you're experiencing. Keep this in mind, especially when you feel the urge to be critical, or find that someone is critical of you.
2. No one's ideas are stupid. Unless those ideas involve no boundaries whatsoever, or isolation or violence.
3. Be in the moment. I cannot even begin to tell you how I struggle with this. My Type A personality has me thinking over everything 'undone.' My to-do list that grows even longer on days when I'm especially in the moment as a mother and wife. When you have a husband who is only home for weeks at a time, you don't want to spend those precious moments cleaning ... no matter how distracting your dirty house is to your Type A self. Being in the moment also applies to defiance, tantrums, delayed bedtimes -- where I struggle even worse. No matter how much you may want to scream in that moment, it is only a moment. If you need to scream, do it. Just not in the face of your child. The look of fear on your little one's face is not worth it.
4. Tell your children you love them, often, and with conviction. I once read a comment thread in which someone was trying to convince the other parents that we can be too free with our "I love you"s, that telling your children you love them "too much" will spoil them. Well, if I am going to 'spoil' Maile, I'd much rather have it be with love than anything else.
5. No one else cares about your parenting that much. I realize that this point is a bit ironic in a post about parenting, but what I mean is simply this: Everyone is doing their best. And because we're all so darn insecure, not wanting to end up on 60 Minutes in 25 years (Is that show still on?), we put on airs of bravado. Our way is best, thank-you-very-much. Those little digs and jabs can hurt, yes, but as not everything changes between the ages of 17 and 27, they're usually just a sign of wavering confidence. A feeble attempt to boost their own self-worth as a parent by undercutting yours.
6. You should never be too busy for your children.
7. Children are simple: they need love, boundaries, and consequences. And yeah, I know the application of these things is anything but simple. Figuring out the appropriate 'balance' (I hate that word) isn't simple. But it is simple to remind yourself of this in the heat of a frustrating moment, to give yourself time to take a deep breath, think, and then act. 
8. This too shall pass.
9. You cannot change yourself in a day.
10. The way you parent affects other people. And not just in a potentially horrifying 60 Minutes way.
11. 'Mom guilt' (or 'dad guilt') does you no good. If you don't like the way you reacted to a situation, change it, whether that means changing your actions the next time around, or asking for forgiveness.
12. No one is getting out of this without scars. Maybe that sounds dramatic. Or, if you're not yet a parent, downright scary. Being a parent is one of the most wonderful gifts in the human experience; it can also hurt.
13. Be honest with yourself.
14. Your child doesn't fit into a neat little box crafted by pediatric guidelines, school systems, or society; don't force them into it. As long as they aren't disturbing other shoppers, let them sing in Target. Maybe they'll grow up to be a Broadway star. Maybe they'll grow up, won't be able to carry a tune, but will have a contagious joy of music. Either way, I'm sure they'll remember that you let them sing in Target.
15. You are not guaranteed tomorrow. No pressure. 
16. You are enough. You have enough. I'm not crafty. Right now, we can't afford lessons and classes and paid activities. I love to read; I can read to Maile for hours. I'm musical; I can teach Maile how to play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star on her xylophone, and help her strum some basic chords on my guitar. I love to cook; she can count and measure with me as we make meals and memories together. You don't have to have it 'all' for your little one to have a rich childhood.
17. You choose the way you parent.
18. You're not too old or too mature to dance in the living room, or giggle under the covers, or make a fort, or skip down the sidewalk, or eat dessert first.
19. If you're going to spend money, spend more on experiences and memories than you do on things.
20. At the end of the day, your child wants you ... just. you.

Speaking of not spending money on things, our current giveaway is for a pair of gorgeous custom Baby Lupo moccasins. Enter here.

And here's the post that got me thinking.

On Pink Flowered Bounce Castles, and Disappointment

Over the fence, she saw the giant, pink-and-purple, flower-covered bounce castle inflate yesterday morning. She asked to play in it, but easily found something else to do (she had a friend over) after I told her, "We'll have to see. That isn't our castle, so we need to be invited to play in it." 

In the evening, we found ourselves outside once again. This time, she wasn't so easily distracted from the awesome anomaly in our neighbors' yard. "It's the castle!" she exclaimed. "Yes, it is," I confirmed. Only now, the castle had kids from 2-10, jumping around inside, shrieking happily. "Maile play in the castle?" she asked again. "I don't know, sweetheart. That isn't our castle, so you need to be invited to play in it." She looked thoughtful, and started walking slowly toward the back fence. When she got there, she stood for two or three minutes before 'it' started. "Hey! Hey! Look at our castle! Hey! We have a castle!" "I see that!" I yelled back, with a forced smile on my face. His parents gave me a wave of acknowledgement, and went inside.

I'll admit it: I teared up. And then I got angry. And then I took a deep breath, and walked to the back of the yard -- this time, ignoring the boy shouting at us. I took Maile by the hand and said, "Hey! You know what sounds fun to me? Ice cream!" Without taking her eyes off the castle, she lifted her brows, "Ice cream?" "Pink ice cream. How about a movie, too?" "Mama snuggle you?" she turned toward me ... "Of course I will."

We walked hand in hand back to the house, and had a wonderful evening: ice cream and snuggles and a movie. She didn't bring up the castle again.

I wasn't so much trying to avoid the issue, as I was trying to let her lead the discussion. I also wasn't going to let her stand along the fence looking forlorn all evening either, though. Maybe she'll bring it up tomorrow, and if she does, we will talk it out as best we can; if she doesn't, that's fine too.

My question for you is, how do you deal with children inevitably being let down by other children? We really aren't a "Life is hard, get a  helmet," family ... and I can tell you with certainty that that approach will never work with Maile. So, what do you say? What do you do? Looking forward to your input, my friends.

Note: The photo above wasn't taken yesterday, and Maile is not upset in the photo -- just looking down while reading a book.

Maile's headband c/o Kindred Oak.

iFavorite

My favorite iPhone pic from the past week:

This photo is from one of two nights this week that Maile slept in her own bed. I've had a lot of people ask how we approach sleep 'training,' especially given Tim's strange schedule, and the fact that our circumstances at home are constantly changing. Sleep is a whole other animal when "Dada" is home for a couple of weeks, then gone for a couple of weeks. There's an element of our lives that never settles, and it's sometimes not so fun trying to explain to your toddler, when you just want her to go to sleep, that Dada will read her the "Dada monster book" in x more days. My honest answer is that bedtime around here can be difficult. Not always, but it can be. And also, that though we have a set bedtime routine, there is no 'training.' We are a bed-sharing / co-sleeping family, and because once Maile is asleep, she does sleep so well, we firmly believe that she'll let us know when she's ready to move into her own space. So now you know our secret -- the family bed. Plus, we love to snuggle, and I don't know about you, but sleep and snuggles can cure just about anything around here. :)

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*Don't forget to enter our current giveaway!

On Raising a Disney Princess

When I was pregnant with Maile, I carefully curated a long list of 'won't's. We won't let her watch TV until she's at least four years old. I won't ever yell at her. We won't even introduce her to Disney ...

I don't know why I fixated on Disney as a negative entity. I did, though. Maybe it was all the uber-natural, and attachment parenting websites I was drawn to. Maybe it was the fact that all the super-cool, trendy moms I followed in the blogging world probably balk at their child being seen in a character tee. ::gasp:: Maybe it was all of my grad school classmates who bragged about not having a television. Whatever it was, I decided Disney was bad for my daughter.

Then, Maile arrived. We hadn't a clue what to do with her six pounds of gorgeousness, but we managed ... We managed to keep the TV and computer screens off when she was awake. We managed to not buy any Disney books, or plush toys, or clothing. We managed to play classical music for her, and read to her every single day. Our babysitter taught Maile sign language, and we managed to be pretty dang proud.

I'm racking my brain, trying to remember when Maile was first exposed to Disney, but I can't recall the moment, or item, or whatever it was ... I clearly remember that we tried desperately to get Maile attached to a lovey, without success. I wore carefully selected stuffed animals around in my shirt for days, because I read that my 'scent' would make her love them more; she didn't take to any of them for more than a week. Then, one day, shortly before her first birthday, Tim grabbed a Mickey from a shelf at Target, and handed it to Maile. Click. Love. What is it about that mouse, who looks very little like a mouse? 

When I realized that Mickey wasn't going anywhere, I carefully wrote Maile's name on his tag (in red Sharpie, to match his iconic red shorts), and nostalgically, scenes from the Toy Story movies flashed through my brain. I love those movies -- their imagination ... but most of all, their hope.

More than a few strangers told us that Maile looked like Boo, from Monsters, Inc., and Sulley found his way into her collection. Dear friends bought her a Disney princess anthology for her first birthday; we read from it to our darling girl. She watched an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse; a plush Donald Duck joined the family. One night, one of our dogs decided Mickey's nose looked appetizing, and Tim's mom performed minor surgery to fix Mickey's "ouch!" Shortly before Maile's second birthday, Tim DVR'd the Sofia the First movie; he was so excited about our first movie night with Maile. And yes, Sofia was pretty cool, but Maile really loved the scene with Cinderella. 

All of these things brought to mind my own Disney memories. My first movie theater experience was Beauty and the Beast on the big screen; I remember my parents picking me up from kindergarten one day, with the VHS in hand. When Snow White was re-released in theaters, my mom let me and my younger sister play hooky, and drove us to the 'big city' for the show. I still dream of seeing The Lion King on Broadway, someday. And yes, when I'm sick, Beauty and the Beast is one of my go-to comfort movies (along with 'big girl' fairy tales, like Sabrina, and Ever After). 

I've come across so many blog posts, opinion pieces, even articles, about how Disney is doing girls wrong. Do I agree with all of Disney's decisions? Certainly not. Do I push princesses and pink and all things girly on Maile? If you believe that, you don't know me at all. But even the ditziest of Disney princesses (I can't decide if that award goes to Ariel, or Snow White) has something to teach my daughter. Following her dreams, for example. Being gracious and kind, even to those who wish you ill. Learning to step out into the world, even when you're afraid. That it's okay to be bookish. And someday, I hope she'll see that maybe it's the prince who needs rescuing. ;)

Maile clack, clack, clacks around the house in her Ariel dress-up shoes, wearing the mermaid costume my parents gave her. She sings as she lovingly gives her toys check-ups, which almost always end in declarations that they need stitches. She wears her Minnie nightgown outside, in the mornings, insisting on sharing her toast with "Maile's birdies." (Yes, seriously.) She twirls around me as she does my hair, "just like Rapunzel, Mama! You're beautiful!" 

She loves planes -- especially fighter jets. She stages elaborate train crashes, with major sound effects. She wants to ride a dragon someday, and asks why we can't see dinosaurs at the zoo. If you ask her, she'll tell you her favorite color is blue. She's a downright rabid baseball fan.

All the little boys I know are obsessed with construction equipment; I've never heard, "Aren't you afraid so-and-so will grow up to be ... blue collar?!" Bring a Disney princess into the mix, and suddenly you're part of the 'system,' so obviously rigged against girls. "Girls can be anything!" Except princesses, it would seem.

Okay, so Jasmine's proportions are wildly unrealistic. A prince probably won't sweep Maile off her feet and marry her (though it did happen to Grace Kelly, and Queen Noor ... just saying). Maile can't talk to animals, and songbirds wearing hats aren't going to help her with her chores.

Until the cynicism of adulthood too-quickly descends on our sweet girl, though, we will let her be little. Let her imagination take her to wonderful, far-off places. Let her sing and dance, and wear mermaid fins to dinner. Let her be a princess.

And, occasionally, buy her character t-shirts.

Maile's headband c/o Bizzy B Crafts.

Speaking of pink, our current giveaway -- sponsored by All That Glitters -- ends Friday. Enter here!