Not so long ago... in a not so far away place..
Once upon a time... not so long ago... kids were raised by their parents and family.
Not by opinionated strangers.
Not by interfering acquaintances.
Not by offensive passersby.
Not even by over-bearing, all-knowing, have-read-every-parenting-book-in-the-whole-world...
... well... you get the idea.
Not too long ago I started to get offended by everybody that offered their... ahem... unsolicited advice. Mostly about Jerome, but some about my parenting. I've been called a "paranoid parent" by some... they've never seen me at the zoo or science centre with my boys... BE FREE! But I was called this because I was telling my boys to NOT scale a clunky old swing set that is teetering at the top of a hilled yard... oh yes... I'm paranoid.. .that they'll fall and break their skull in your YARD!!
There's nothing wrong with my getting offended. Nothing wrong with feeling hurt by the other moms that decided I wasn't as good as they are. Nothing wrong with feeling like they were comparing my son with theirs in size, vocabulary and... well... pretty much everything else.
I know I'm not perfect. But I like to think I'm the perfect mom for MY children. Maybe not the perfect one for your kids, or her kids or their kids... blah blah blah... BUT... for my kids, I'm just friggin' awesome.
I feed them. Clothe them. Hug them. Kiss them. Listen to every question they have and answer every one I can. I teach them what I can. Learn with them what I don't know. I love them. I yell. I give them time-outs. I tell them no. I send them to their rooms. I bathe them. I get dirty with them. I play every conceivable game they can think of and even a few that I might think of.
Nothing anybody said ever hurt my kids. They never got offended because nothing was ever directed TO them. Only to me. I'm tired of being 'hurt' by these conversations. So I started to wonder. Maybe there are other reasons for these people to feel the need to give their opinions or advice.
What if they're so wrapped up in raising their children the 'right' way, that they don't enjoy their children as much as I do mine. Maybe their way is so burnt into their brain... that to see another mom doing anything else just can't be ignored. It's like walking past a crooked picture on the wall and not fixing it. To them it MUST be commented on. It HAS to be corrected. Otherwise, they're not doing their job as a mother.
I've thought about why someone would feel that it's okay to constantly tell me how 'tiny' my son is. Or how astonishing it is that he doesn't speak yet. Maybe they see me as lazy? They're saving my kids by pointing out the obvious?
Perhaps they don't conscience-ly know they're doing it. It's their sub-conscience bugging them to the point that they HAVE to tell me what I've done wrong or what I should do to correct the things that are very obviously not right.
Or...
perhaps...
just maybe...
they're assholes.
Yes. Yes, this could be it.
My son is short. Guess what? I'm only 5'. He had a 50/50 shot of being tall or short. Oh, and he's still friggin' growing. He's only 2 1/2, not like this is how tall he's going to be for the rest of his life.
No, he doesn't speak. Well. Let me correct that. He doesn't speak to YOU. He talks to us all the time. In fact, he's started to use 3 and 4 word sentences in the last week alone. He's gone from saying Papa, no... to Maman, don't go please... sounds more like Maman, dohn doe tees.
I am stronger than people give me credit for. And very obviously, much smarter.
Beautiful.
Funny.
Talented.
Wait... what was I talking about??
HA!
Meh. They're not going to get the better of me. I have friends that understand the situation I am in, and I am in a wonderful place right now.
Jerome is the perfect size.
He fits in my arms.
What could be more perfect than that?
Not by opinionated strangers.
Not by interfering acquaintances.
Not by offensive passersby.
Not even by over-bearing, all-knowing, have-read-every-parenting-book-in-the-whole-world...
... well... you get the idea.
Not too long ago I started to get offended by everybody that offered their... ahem... unsolicited advice. Mostly about Jerome, but some about my parenting. I've been called a "paranoid parent" by some... they've never seen me at the zoo or science centre with my boys... BE FREE! But I was called this because I was telling my boys to NOT scale a clunky old swing set that is teetering at the top of a hilled yard... oh yes... I'm paranoid.. .that they'll fall and break their skull in your YARD!!
There's nothing wrong with my getting offended. Nothing wrong with feeling hurt by the other moms that decided I wasn't as good as they are. Nothing wrong with feeling like they were comparing my son with theirs in size, vocabulary and... well... pretty much everything else.
I know I'm not perfect. But I like to think I'm the perfect mom for MY children. Maybe not the perfect one for your kids, or her kids or their kids... blah blah blah... BUT... for my kids, I'm just friggin' awesome.
I feed them. Clothe them. Hug them. Kiss them. Listen to every question they have and answer every one I can. I teach them what I can. Learn with them what I don't know. I love them. I yell. I give them time-outs. I tell them no. I send them to their rooms. I bathe them. I get dirty with them. I play every conceivable game they can think of and even a few that I might think of.
Nothing anybody said ever hurt my kids. They never got offended because nothing was ever directed TO them. Only to me. I'm tired of being 'hurt' by these conversations. So I started to wonder. Maybe there are other reasons for these people to feel the need to give their opinions or advice.
What if they're so wrapped up in raising their children the 'right' way, that they don't enjoy their children as much as I do mine. Maybe their way is so burnt into their brain... that to see another mom doing anything else just can't be ignored. It's like walking past a crooked picture on the wall and not fixing it. To them it MUST be commented on. It HAS to be corrected. Otherwise, they're not doing their job as a mother.
I've thought about why someone would feel that it's okay to constantly tell me how 'tiny' my son is. Or how astonishing it is that he doesn't speak yet. Maybe they see me as lazy? They're saving my kids by pointing out the obvious?
Perhaps they don't conscience-ly know they're doing it. It's their sub-conscience bugging them to the point that they HAVE to tell me what I've done wrong or what I should do to correct the things that are very obviously not right.
Or...
perhaps...
just maybe...
they're assholes.
Yes. Yes, this could be it.
My son is short. Guess what? I'm only 5'. He had a 50/50 shot of being tall or short. Oh, and he's still friggin' growing. He's only 2 1/2, not like this is how tall he's going to be for the rest of his life.
No, he doesn't speak. Well. Let me correct that. He doesn't speak to YOU. He talks to us all the time. In fact, he's started to use 3 and 4 word sentences in the last week alone. He's gone from saying Papa, no... to Maman, don't go please... sounds more like Maman, dohn doe tees.
I am stronger than people give me credit for. And very obviously, much smarter.
Beautiful.
Funny.
Talented.
Wait... what was I talking about??
HA!
Meh. They're not going to get the better of me. I have friends that understand the situation I am in, and I am in a wonderful place right now.
Jerome is the perfect size.
He fits in my arms.
What could be more perfect than that?
Nothing!
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