If you have children, you will understand immediately what I
am about to describe. That comment that
changes the way you parent, the way you view parenting and the way you relate
parenting to others. For everyone else,
it’s a good story…a true story.
I was told a long time ago that I’m not really parenting
until I have more than one kiddo. Really?
Then what the hell have I been doing for the past year (half of which I did
alone while my hubby was half way around the world)?! I want to make it clear
that that comment pissed me off to no end…still does when I think of it. If you have a child, you are parenting.
That’s really all there is to it. I believed that then and I believe that now. A
part of me, however, wondered if I would feel like or be a different parent
should we have an additional child. In the time since the comment was made, it
has been explained to me over and over that I may have taken it too personally…which
is always possible…I take a lot of things personally and I take EVERYTHING
personally when it involves my sweet, angelic, perfect Bugs.
Okay, we all know they aren’t actually perfect. But they are
perfect for us…perfect at testing boundaries… perfect at being kids…and that’s
a good thing because that’s their job. But
they are my life, my career and the most wonderful thing that I have ever done,
bar none. I put my heart and soul into
raising them…everything from hygiene, appearance and punishment to education,
social skills and safety (and everything in between) is my responsibility and I
approach it with the same vigor as any corporate executive gunning for a
promotion or pay raise. I spend my days shaping personalities,
encouraging curiosities, teaching skills and appropriate behaviors and
explaining the ways of the world to two of the most inquisitive minds that I
have ever met. I laugh, I cry, I scream
and most nights I pass out from the exhaustion of it...and I truly LOVE every
second.
So, do I feel like more of a parent now that I have two
kids? No. Definitely not. I am more of a multi-tasker, more of a mediator
(thankfully not too much since our Bugs get along so well) and more of a
scheduler (which is saying a lot since most people already viewed my compulsive
planning as a fault). But, I am not any
more or less of a parent. I teach the same things…just twice. I wash the same
laundry…just twice. I wipe the same
tears…just twice. I’m not doing more…I’m just doing the same things more often.
And I still truly LOVE every second.
But that comment has forever changed me. It changed the way I view the person that said
it…and certainly not for the better.
Regardless of the intent, or if it was or wasn’t said in jest, it hurt
me. And to say something like that to a new, first time mom (K was only about 9
months old at the time) is insensitive to say the least. Not to mention that I
was single-parenting at the time and already struggling with worry about if I
was doing our sweet girl justice on my own. In my mind that person views themselves as ‘more’
of a parent and that infuriates me (they currently have more children than my
hubby and I and probably always will since we intend to be done producing
offspring).
God made me the parent that I am because I am the parent
that the children He blessed us with needs. I’m not more of a parent than
anyone else and I am not less of a parent than anyone else. I am the parent
necessary for the children given to me. Nothing more. Nothing less. It has also changed the way I relate
parenting to new parents. I feel it is
necessary (and that I am obligated) to remind them that THEY are what their children
need…nothing more, nothing less…not what the books say, not what other people
say and not what the internet says…YOU are the parents that your child needs and
God gave you the instincts to do the job.
Follow your instincts first and when you feel truly muddled, then it is
time to ask for help. It causes me to
bite my tongue a lot, too. I try so hard
to stay out of the ‘comparing’ game that is so common now-a-days anyway. But when someone spends their time
broadcasting their woes about their husband being gone for one or two nights or
their anger at them being called out during supper, I can’t help but think
about the weeks and months that I spend as a single-parent each year. No, my hubby and I aren’t separated…well, at
least not spiritually or legally…just physically. He is on active duty in the
Air Force and spends an average of over 120 days away from us each year. Not as
bad as some military members, but certainly a lot more than any family would
prefer. And even when he is home, a 40
hour work week is nothing short of a joke. A ‘workday’ is an average of 12
hours…a minimum of 5 days a week….weekends, evenings and overnight commitments
are anything but unusual. And there is no such thing as overtime pay. But, I refuse to make those comments. It isn’t
worth comparing and it doesn’t make me more of a parent than someone with a
standard M-F/9-5 job. What it does is make me even more thankful for the luxury
of being a full-time parent…for the gift of being the one to be there for the ‘first’
everything…to get K from school each afternoon and drop her off each morning…to
always be here when there are monsters in C’s room at night…to provide comfort,
stability and structure in the midst of the turmoil of military life. It also makes me more thankful for the
friends that we have made though our journey as a military family. The families that never compare hardships
because it is all hard and you can’t measure the loneliness in one’s heart; you
simply provide support and encouragement.
I am not more or less of a parent because of the number of
children that I am raising. I know that now.
I am more of a parent because of what I choose to do. My choice to be
involved in every aspect of their lives and interests, my choice to discipline
consistently, my choice to put the time, energy and love into shaping them into
strong, educated, independent and productive members of society…those are the things
that make me a parent. It’s not about numbers…it’s about faith, effort and
love.
~Jac
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