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I’d like to be a perfect parent. Newsflash: I’m not! The whole “no processed foods” idea went out the window shortly after he realized that he could say, “No.” He has a few favorite television shows. I’ve lost my temper and raised my voice. I’ve said “crap” and he has repeated me. The list goes on.
There are very few people on this planet that I would legitimately turn to for parenting advice. My Mom, of course, is one of them because, I figure, if she could raise me, well, then she’s pretty capable. (This was not always my thought process! Maturity and perspective change our views, don’t they?) My Husband’s Mom is another one I turn to on occasion. I have a few online friends that also get asked questions from time to time. Regarding those friends, each has a “specialty” that I rely on for information: cloth diapering, babywearing, breastfeeding and other issues.
There’s one more person (or persons) that I turn to when I have a question: my daughter’s parents. In fact, I called them last night with a question. You see, our son had skipped his nap yesterday. By bedtime? He was an over-tired, hysterical mess. As we sat in his rocking chair, trying to calm him down, none of our methods were working. Any time we made a move towards his toddler bed, the screams got worse. Finally, he started repeating “crib” over and over. You see, the crib is still up in his room. We only made the transition to the toddler bed last month. We left the crib up initially so the little dude could take his pick regarding where to sleep. It has always, since day one, been the toddler bed. (The crib is moving into the nursery later this week; we were waiting on carpet!)
Until last night.
Finally, shrugging my shoulders at my Husband, I said to go ahead and put him in the crib. He stopped crying. We handed him his blankies. Two minutes later? The kid was asleep. (Seriously. Two minutes.)
And so, like any other Mom, I panicked.
I called J & D and asked if I had just ruined a month’s worth of work on the bed transition. D assured me that sometimes you just need to get the kid to sleep in any form or fashion. Letting the kids sleep in their bed (or, when it happens at our house, our son in our bed) doesn’t “ruin” their normal sleeping so one night in the crib isn’t going to make a difference. Plus, when the crib is moved into the nursery, he will forget about it. Out of sight, out of mind.
My panic subsided and I thanked D for her reassuring words. Quite frankly, they could be totally off base and it wouldn’t matter to me. I just needed someone to reassure me that I wasn’t an awful parent.
D and I do that for each other from time to time. Our kids fall down and get bumps and bruises. We lose our patience. We do things that we said we’d never do. We tell each other our stories. We joke with one another that the “Parenting Police” are coming to get the other. And we let our worries fall by the wayside.
I feel comfortable asking D things like this because I have watched her parent the Munchkin and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she is an amazing Mom. Love is having enough faith in your daughter’s parents to rely on their advice when your parented children are throwing you curve balls.
//
For more Love Thursday, read:
1. Nice Notes.
2. Hiccups.
//I’d like to be a perfect parent. Newsflash: I’m not! The whole “no processed foods” idea went out the window shortly after he realized that he could say, “No.” He has a few favorite television shows. I’ve lost my temper and raised my voice. I’ve said “crap” and he has repeated me. The list goes on.
There are very few people on this planet that I would legitimately turn to for parenting advice. My Mom, of course, is one of them because, I figure, if she could raise me, well, then she’s pretty capable. (This was not always my thought process! Maturity and perspective change our views, don’t they?) My Husband’s Mom is another one I turn to on occasion. I have a few online friends that also get asked questions from time to time. Regarding those friends, each has a “specialty” that I rely on for information: cloth diapering, babywearing, breastfeeding and other issues.
There’s one more person (or persons) that I turn to when I have a question: my daughter’s parents. In fact, I called them last night with a question. You see, our son had skipped his nap yesterday. By bedtime? He was an over-tired, hysterical mess. As we sat in his rocking chair, trying to calm him down, none of our methods were working. Any time we made a move towards his toddler bed, the screams got worse. Finally, he started repeating “crib” over and over. You see, the crib is still up in his room. We only made the transition to the toddler bed last month. We left the crib up initially so the little dude could take his pick regarding where to sleep. It has always, since day one, been the toddler bed. (The crib is moving into the nursery later this week; we were waiting on carpet!)
Until last night.
Finally, shrugging my shoulders at my Husband, I said to go ahead and put him in the crib. He stopped crying. We handed him his blankies. Two minutes later? The kid was asleep. (Seriously. Two minutes.)
And so, like any other Mom, I panicked.
I called J & D and asked if I had just ruined a month’s worth of work on the bed transition. D assured me that sometimes you just need to get the kid to sleep in any form or fashion. Letting the kids sleep in their bed (or, when it happens at our house, our son in our bed) doesn’t “ruin” their normal sleeping so one night in the crib isn’t going to make a difference. Plus, when the crib is moved into the nursery, he will forget about it. Out of sight, out of mind.
My panic subsided and I thanked D for her reassuring words. Quite frankly, they could be totally off base and it wouldn’t matter to me. I just needed someone to reassure me that I wasn’t an awful parent.
D and I do that for each other from time to time. Our kids fall down and get bumps and bruises. We lose our patience. We do things that we said we’d never do. We tell each other our stories. We joke with one another that the “Parenting Police” are coming to get the other. And we let our worries fall by the wayside.
I feel comfortable asking D things like this because I have watched her parent the Munchkin and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she is an amazing Mom. Love is having enough faith in your daughter’s parents to rely on their advice when your parented children are throwing you curve balls.
//
For more Love Thursday, read:
1. Nice Notes.
2. Hiccups.
//
Photo Credit.
