Never Say Never

One of the things that parenting has taught me is that you can't really count on anything. Just when you think you've got things figured out, circumstances change, the rules change, your kids change. I'm still learning the fine art of appreciating the good that I do have, because chances are, it's not going to last. I think back to times like when Emma was an infant, and we used to snuggle in bed together in the morning after Chris had gone to work. Good memories. It never really occurred to me at the time to deeply appreciate those moments, because they weren't going to last.

Being a parent is a good exercise in humility. As every day goes by, I learn more and more, that I don't know shit, never did know shit, and by the time I DO know shit, this parenting gig will be over, I'll be a grandma and be able to sit back with glee and watch my own kids struggle through the parenting thing, observing how they don't know shit either.

One of the things that amuses me most at this point in my parenting career is the fact that I find myself both saying and doing things that I once promised myself that I would not do. I remember a B.K. (before kids) conversation with my hubby about how we'd never allow our (theoretical at that point) children into our bed. Our bed was sacred! Our kids would just need to learn how to suck it up.

I believe that Miss Emma was indeed "sucking it up" at the breast, in our bed, at about one week of age. Exhaustion and desperation demanded it. I forgot all about that earlier conversation between my husband and I - after all, what did those people know? They didn't have kids, after all.

These days I wake up most mornings with Molly in our bed, and Emma in a little bed on our floor. One nice, big, happy family.

When Emma was small, before she was really talking much, I remember seeing parents and caregivers on the playground or at the library, instructing their older children to "use their words". How obnoxious! How patronizing! I'll never do that!

I believe I find myself using that statement at least once every single week these days, particularly when I burst into a room to find Emma and Molly struggling over a toy and screaming at the tops of their lungs at each other.

When I was kid, I wasn't a picky eater. Frankly, I didn't have the luxury. We were poor enough that there weren't any alternatives - if I didn't like what was being served, I ate it, and hoped like hell that there would be something I liked a whole lot better at the next meal. Period. B.K. I assumed that if you simply exposed your kids to lots of different kinds of food and didn't give then any choices, they'd just eat what was in front of them.

Some days Molly eats peanut butter and honey sandwiches at all three meals. What's a mother to do when your three year old takes one look at the meal in front of her and declares, "YUCK!" at the top of her lungs? Who the hell taught her that word, anyhow?

In any case, I guess my whole point here is that with parenting, you have to keep an open mind. It's one thing to declare what you will or won't do before actually being presented with a situation, it's totally another to try and make it through the day with your sanity (and your family) intact.

Besides, there are lots of good things about being a mom that I never planned for or counted on, either. Like how much my girls would teach me - about the importance of living in the moment, and the beauty in the simplest things. How infectious laughter really can be. What's really important in life.

And most of all, I've definitely learned that it's way more important to be flexible and learn from life, rather than sticking to "the rules". When it comes to being a mommy, rules were definitely made to be broken. Parenting is all about being flexible...and knowing how to whip up a good peanut butter and honey sandwich.