I'm sorry I have neglected this site for so long. I am a terrible blogger.
I've been working on something for myself, but I think it is applicable to the purpose of this blog, so I will post it here. Enjoy!
Julie
Last month, I hit an important milestone. I have been a parent for ten years. From the beginning, my son Noah has been an easy-going, respectful child. He has taught me a few things about children and life in general these past ten years. In honor of his tenth birthday, here are ten of the most important lessons I’ve learned.
You often do not get what you expect, but that is almost always a good thing.
Noah was nine pounds, one ounce when he was born. Three weeks later he weighed 12 pounds. At six months, he was 18 pounds. I fully expected to have a brute of a boy; one who would play football like his dad. But last year in fourth grade, my son was the third smallest in his class. And he has a heart condition that would make competitive sports a poor idea. But no matter, because the last thing in the world that Noah would EVER want to do is play football. In fact, he only watches the sport for the food I tend to make on game day. What I didn’t expect was that his love of reading would rival my own, and that he would think about food like he was the male version of Julia Child. These unexpected interests and personality traits are incredibly enduring to me, though I never could have imagined them back when I was changing that big boy’s diapers.
A lot of the decisions you make in the beginning really aren’t all that important in the long run.
New parents make many of conscience decisions regarding the rearing of their new babies, especially in recent years. Ten years after the fact, there is an outstanding chance that you won’t remember when you took away their pacifier or when you let them cry it out or when you started solids. These things we research and even agonize over haven’t been that important in the long run...with a few exceptions. I remain incredibly confident and proud of my decision to breastfeed (ten years and zero ear infections). I believe all parents should introduce their infants to books. And I think newborns should be held and cuddled as much as maternity leave allows, just because it is good for everyone.
Parenting gets progressively more subjective, and therefore more challenging.
Confession: I still agonize over countless decisions regarding Noah (can he stay home for an hour or two, can he ride his bike somewhere alone, etc.), so perhaps I haven’t learned the above lesson as well as I would like to believe. However, the decisions my husband and I make today seem like they will have longer-lasting consequences. Giving too much responsibility before he’s ready seems risky. Too many privileges is bad, too. But if we don’t allow him to explore his independence and new experiences, aren’t we ignoring a huge part of our responsibility as parents? Finding the appropriate challenge is tricky for me as a parent of a tween. I can’t even imagine the challenges of parenting a teen.
Comparing your child to other children is a rarely a good idea.
Truth be told, this one is a work in progress. I compare my children to each other, to the kids in daycare, to the child I don’t even know at the pool. I know that there is little to be gained from doing this, but I can’t help it! As infants, I was worried if they didn’t roll over as soon as the younger child next door. As toddlers, I can’t help myself from mentally noting the age and height of other tots at the pool, feeling a great relief when I notice that they are still in swim diapers like my own children. But that is so stupid. You forget about these milestones quite soon after they are achieved, which they almost always are! When you compare, you are showing your worry. And worrying about many of these things is a waste of time. Sky couldn’t count to 10 until she was four. It was weird and worrisome, but she aces her math tests now, so I don’t think she was harmed by this at all. Now if I could only remember it and apply it elsewhere!
My mother-in-law deserves a lot of love and respect.
The amount of love I feel for Noah and his two sisters is immeasurable. If I take the time to think about what they mean to me, how I feel about them, the feeling is so intense that it can bring me to tears. I become convinced that no one else in the world will ever love them as much as I do.
But then I think of how much I love my husband—another intense and immeasurable love. And I recognize that his mother feels the same about him as I feel about my children. Yet she was willing to share him with me. It takes a lot of strength and love to keep your children close, but even more to share them with others.
I finally get how my parents feel about me.
Like anyone who grows up in a healthy family, I’ve always known my parents love me. But I couldn’t understand the extent of that love until I feel that parental love myself. I didn’t understand that my mom was sad when I was sick or heartbroken or just plain confused. I may not parent exactly like my mother and father, but I always aspire to love with the same steady, unconditional love the possess and give to all nine of her children equally.
Boys are different from girls.
I know what you are thinking: Duh. Of course they are different. Why didn’t you know that? I knew it in the general sense, but I didn’t fully grasp what that meant in terms of interpersonal relations. In contrast to my daughter, Noah does not report on daily events. He doesn’t tell me when someone has hurt his feelings. I could not tell you what kids in Noah’s class were especially funny or outgoing or aggressive, because he has never commented on any of these things. I used to worry that he was bottling things up, that he had all these secret struggles. Until my husband made it very clear that these sort of things rarely entered a boy’s radar. I believe the response to my impassioned speech of concerns was, “He’s not a girl.” Short, sweet, and to the point.
We live in an extroverted society.
We like outspoken leaders in this country. We like people who make friends easily and are at the center of every party. After all, we notice them before we notice the insightful person who would prefer to give their attention to one or two people at the time. I have no beef with extroverts. I think they are delightful and I have a family and circle of friends full of them. I just sometimes worry that my introverted son will be missed in the crowd. Or worse, that he’ll be misunderstood.
In preschool, Noah’s teacher, who I like very much, suggested that we might want to wait to send him to kindergarten in the fall. There were no academic concerns. He just seemed to prefer watching other kids from the sidelines, rather than getting in the thick of play. I asked if he seemed unhappy or if it seemed like he wanted to join in. The teacher said that he actually seemed quite content. That was just who Noah was. When he was a baby, he preferred to sit in his seat rather than being held. He doesn’t mind being alone to think, in fact, like any introvert, he needs this recharge time.
And so society, remember, introverts are not particularly sad or wistful or wishing they were playing cars with a half dozen loud boys. They are happy to build their block tower in peace.
Children have a very short time to be children, so let them be.
My children did not begin any sort of formal education until preschool at age four. I know that there are two-year-olds who write their names and identify letters. I think that is amazing. But my kids just were not motivated in that way. They wanted to draw and play make believe and dance and make up songs. And I was far better at nurturing these activities than I was at teaching them, so we rolled with it. Now that they are older, their are countless activities available to them. But running to activity after activity leaves little time for family and just being a carefree kid, so they each can choose one activity. It’s just enough to teach them responsibility and a skill of some sort, but it isn’t overwhelming or too demanding. My kids will have their entire lives to give of their time and energy. I’d like their childhood to be a time when they can relax, create, and find the wonder in life.
Only God could bless me this way.
I grew up with faith, but as a parent, my belief system is strong and unwavering. I feel that faith itself is a blessing by God, but how could I doubt when I have three living, breathing examples of God’s love with me every day. This faith is what keeps me sane as a parent too. Whenever my concerns over Noah’s health or Sky’s dark moods become too much, I am able to turn it over to God and know that they — and the rest of us — are safe in His hands. This is such a gift and my prayers for my family and friends are almost always, “Please, God, give them strength and give them faith!”
You often do not get what you expect, but that is almost always a good thing.
Noah was nine pounds, one ounce when he was born. Three weeks later he weighed 12 pounds. At six months, he was 18 pounds. I fully expected to have a brute of a boy; one who would play football like his dad. But last year in fourth grade, my son was the third smallest in his class. And he has a heart condition that would make competitive sports a poor idea. But no matter, because the last thing in the world that Noah would EVER want to do is play football. In fact, he only watches the sport for the food I tend to make on game day. What I didn’t expect was that his love of reading would rival my own, and that he would think about food like he was the male version of Julia Child. These unexpected interests and personality traits are incredibly enduring to me, though I never could have imagined them back when I was changing that big boy’s diapers.
A lot of the decisions you make in the beginning really aren’t all that important in the long run.
New parents make many of conscience decisions regarding the rearing of their new babies, especially in recent years. Ten years after the fact, there is an outstanding chance that you won’t remember when you took away their pacifier or when you let them cry it out or when you started solids. These things we research and even agonize over haven’t been that important in the long run...with a few exceptions. I remain incredibly confident and proud of my decision to breastfeed (ten years and zero ear infections). I believe all parents should introduce their infants to books. And I think newborns should be held and cuddled as much as maternity leave allows, just because it is good for everyone.
Parenting gets progressively more subjective, and therefore more challenging.
Confession: I still agonize over countless decisions regarding Noah (can he stay home for an hour or two, can he ride his bike somewhere alone, etc.), so perhaps I haven’t learned the above lesson as well as I would like to believe. However, the decisions my husband and I make today seem like they will have longer-lasting consequences. Giving too much responsibility before he’s ready seems risky. Too many privileges is bad, too. But if we don’t allow him to explore his independence and new experiences, aren’t we ignoring a huge part of our responsibility as parents? Finding the appropriate challenge is tricky for me as a parent of a tween. I can’t even imagine the challenges of parenting a teen.
Comparing your child to other children is a rarely a good idea.
Truth be told, this one is a work in progress. I compare my children to each other, to the kids in daycare, to the child I don’t even know at the pool. I know that there is little to be gained from doing this, but I can’t help it! As infants, I was worried if they didn’t roll over as soon as the younger child next door. As toddlers, I can’t help myself from mentally noting the age and height of other tots at the pool, feeling a great relief when I notice that they are still in swim diapers like my own children. But that is so stupid. You forget about these milestones quite soon after they are achieved, which they almost always are! When you compare, you are showing your worry. And worrying about many of these things is a waste of time. Sky couldn’t count to 10 until she was four. It was weird and worrisome, but she aces her math tests now, so I don’t think she was harmed by this at all. Now if I could only remember it and apply it elsewhere!
My mother-in-law deserves a lot of love and respect.
The amount of love I feel for Noah and his two sisters is immeasurable. If I take the time to think about what they mean to me, how I feel about them, the feeling is so intense that it can bring me to tears. I become convinced that no one else in the world will ever love them as much as I do.
But then I think of how much I love my husband—another intense and immeasurable love. And I recognize that his mother feels the same about him as I feel about my children. Yet she was willing to share him with me. It takes a lot of strength and love to keep your children close, but even more to share them with others.
I finally get how my parents feel about me.
Like anyone who grows up in a healthy family, I’ve always known my parents love me. But I couldn’t understand the extent of that love until I feel that parental love myself. I didn’t understand that my mom was sad when I was sick or heartbroken or just plain confused. I may not parent exactly like my mother and father, but I always aspire to love with the same steady, unconditional love the possess and give to all nine of her children equally.
Boys are different from girls.
I know what you are thinking: Duh. Of course they are different. Why didn’t you know that? I knew it in the general sense, but I didn’t fully grasp what that meant in terms of interpersonal relations. In contrast to my daughter, Noah does not report on daily events. He doesn’t tell me when someone has hurt his feelings. I could not tell you what kids in Noah’s class were especially funny or outgoing or aggressive, because he has never commented on any of these things. I used to worry that he was bottling things up, that he had all these secret struggles. Until my husband made it very clear that these sort of things rarely entered a boy’s radar. I believe the response to my impassioned speech of concerns was, “He’s not a girl.” Short, sweet, and to the point.
We live in an extroverted society.
We like outspoken leaders in this country. We like people who make friends easily and are at the center of every party. After all, we notice them before we notice the insightful person who would prefer to give their attention to one or two people at the time. I have no beef with extroverts. I think they are delightful and I have a family and circle of friends full of them. I just sometimes worry that my introverted son will be missed in the crowd. Or worse, that he’ll be misunderstood.
In preschool, Noah’s teacher, who I like very much, suggested that we might want to wait to send him to kindergarten in the fall. There were no academic concerns. He just seemed to prefer watching other kids from the sidelines, rather than getting in the thick of play. I asked if he seemed unhappy or if it seemed like he wanted to join in. The teacher said that he actually seemed quite content. That was just who Noah was. When he was a baby, he preferred to sit in his seat rather than being held. He doesn’t mind being alone to think, in fact, like any introvert, he needs this recharge time.
And so society, remember, introverts are not particularly sad or wistful or wishing they were playing cars with a half dozen loud boys. They are happy to build their block tower in peace.
Children have a very short time to be children, so let them be.
My children did not begin any sort of formal education until preschool at age four. I know that there are two-year-olds who write their names and identify letters. I think that is amazing. But my kids just were not motivated in that way. They wanted to draw and play make believe and dance and make up songs. And I was far better at nurturing these activities than I was at teaching them, so we rolled with it. Now that they are older, their are countless activities available to them. But running to activity after activity leaves little time for family and just being a carefree kid, so they each can choose one activity. It’s just enough to teach them responsibility and a skill of some sort, but it isn’t overwhelming or too demanding. My kids will have their entire lives to give of their time and energy. I’d like their childhood to be a time when they can relax, create, and find the wonder in life.
Only God could bless me this way.
I grew up with faith, but as a parent, my belief system is strong and unwavering. I feel that faith itself is a blessing by God, but how could I doubt when I have three living, breathing examples of God’s love with me every day. This faith is what keeps me sane as a parent too. Whenever my concerns over Noah’s health or Sky’s dark moods become too much, I am able to turn it over to God and know that they — and the rest of us — are safe in His hands. This is such a gift and my prayers for my family and friends are almost always, “Please, God, give them strength and give them faith!”
