katierobinson

Isn’t My Kid the Greatest?!

September 12, 2014 katierobinson1 Comment

Well, I mean, your kid is awfully nice too, but maybe mine is second only to your own?

I know, she is awfully cute and always so even-tempered. Her laugh is charming. She sleeps through the night! She eats well. And I just know that she loves me. Yeah, she’s the greatest.

Contrary to what you might think, this post will not be about all those crummy parents who shove their “great” kids in your face for you to fawn over. It is the confession of one of those crummy parents. Granted, I want other people’s approval in much more sneaky ways. I feign indifference at comments of “how cute” in line at the grocery because how could anyone dispute her cuteness?! I demur at compliments about her darling personality: “Is she always so smiley?” (Of course!)

It’s strange to take such pride in another person…especially one who has very few skills that I’ve taught them. She doesn’t do much of anything that she wouldn’t do if she were someone else’s kid. She crawls. She picks things up. She puts them down. She babbles. I didn’t directly teach her any of this stuff and I didn’t decide what she’d look like, so why am I secretly seeking approval from folks about how great she is?

I guess the answer is what is always is: because my life is all about me. I am the hero of this novel. I am the narrator. I am the controller of the inner monologue. I am omnipresent…in my own thoughts. So my daughter is a reflection of me and I want people to think she’s great mostly so that they’ll think I’m great. “You must be doing something right Katie!” Don’t I know it? By having this living thing that I “control,” I can show people how cool I really am. She’s like my own little Pac-Man walking around in the world. Yum cherries! I’m so good at this game!

If people think she’s great, then they must also think that I’m doing a good job. I know, I’m just so cool and collected about everything- amazing, right? And while I know that outside approval is a dangerous crutch, it just feels so good to get it! Ultimately, I think that my day-to-day existence does not need to be “liked” by 100 people in order to matter, but a little boost from a passer-by about how great my kid is feels like a pat on the back to me.

Isn’t my kid the greatest?! I know I am, thank you!

The ‘Mom Club’

August 14, 2014 katierobinson1 Comment

I wasn’t always anxious to be in the Mom Club. It was a little funny that I would weigh in on parental issues when I didn’t have a kid of my own, but I didn’t mind it if that meant I could sleep in until I was in my 30s. Then, the day arrived when I became a member of that very large group. I was a mom.

At first, I was anxious to see my own experiences reflected in the experiences of other moms. I wanted my own little world to be made bigger, but also to be validated by others. I wanted to know that I wasn’t alone. So I sought out mom friends (holla Mindful Mamas!), shared some of myself and felt steadier because of the communities that I had found.

But here comes the confession (you knew there had to be a ‘but’ coming): I am now cured of that initial pull to identify with other moms. This is not to say that I don’t want the mom friends that I have or other mom friends in the future! Friends! It is just to say that I don’t feel the need to connect with every other mom I see out for a walk with her kid simply because she’s a mom. She might be nice, but I probably don’t even want to make eye contact with her. I don’t want either of us to presume that we know what the other is going through just because we smile at one another.

I don’t want to hold my kid up for another mom to inspect. I don’t want to be on instantly “intimate terms” with other moms just because we both have kids. I don’t want to recount my daughter’s trials and triumphs to strangers and let them count her (non-existent) teeth. I don’t want to do the standard comparison of, “Is she crawling yet? Mine is scooting around the furniture already!” (Amazing! Babies doing baby things!) I don’t want the title of MOM to be in capital letters while every other role I own is forgotten. I don’t want to tell you my “birth story.” Meh. I want to heckle and make jokes.

Having people who vaguely understand your current life can be invaluable, but that doesn’t have to be EVERY PERSON YOU MEET. I’d like to save some self-disclosure and personal stuff until we’ve at least been on our 2nd date. So I’m sorry to say that if I don’t know you (or see some sort of kindred spirit within you), I’m not really interested in how old your kid is or what their favorite food is. Not a very MOM thing to say, I know.

So while I’m cool to be in the club, at the meetings I’ll just watch from the back of the room and then leave early to get a beer.

Is Google a new parent’s worst enemy?

August 11, 2014 katierobinson1 Comment

I googled something this morning. Something about my kid. It’s the first time I’ve googled something baby related since…2013? The question was simple: How much fish is safe for babies to eat? I looked at the results for about 4 minutes, reading some of them out loud to my husband. Most results were pretty measured: “Don’t eat this kind of fish, and only eat this other fish in moderation.” But others could easily lead to worry, “Too much mercury in infants can lead to cognitive impairments, attention problems, language delays, etc.” This is just a small example of the wonders and worries that google can provide for new parents. Ack!!

How many parents have googled something to find that their search points toward an autism spectrum disorder? How many parents have worried themselves with googles on babies’ eyes not pointing in the same direction? How many parents have ascertained that their child is suffering from a real medical crisis because they haven’t pooped in 3 days?! More Ack!!!

It makes sense that we want to know as much as we can. We are curious beings by design and the internet has allowed so much knowledge to be just a click away. Our phones and computers call to us to be used to play games, check messages and diagnose symptoms. Why should we not use the instruments at hand to gather as much information as possible? I would say that it’s the same reason we shouldn’t try to convince our doctor to put us on that anti-anxiety medication that we saw advertised on TV. More information in incapable hands is not a good thing. In fact, it often works against us. We paint incomplete and worrisome pictures that only increase our anxiety levels (obviously why we need to prescribed the Zoloft). I’m getting stressed just thinking about this.

So how do we combat the desire to google, “Is it normal that my baby sleeps with one eye open?!” and all of the other questions that we ask ourselves on a daily basis?

I only know why I keep google out of my child-rearing, so I’ll let you in on my reason.

I don’t want to increase my anxiety level because I don’t like how it feels to be anxious.

When I notice a small rash on my daughter’s face, I first ask myself how she seems. I try to slow down enough to take in her overall mood and well-being. Then I ask my husband to take a look at it and see if he thinks it’s anything to be concerned about. Then we usually decide to wait a little while to see if it fades or gets worse. All of our “braking” procedures seem to be working so far because none of her rashes have turned out to be scabies. I am all too aware that if I let myself fall down the rabbit hole of rash searches online, I would come out scarred myself. My heightened worry wouldn’t help my daughter either. I would simply freak out over every little sneeze, bump and scratch.

If something is truly worrisome, then I will consult our pediatrician, not the internet.

Until then, I’m going to use the internet to distract and waste my time, but I’m not going to allow google to convince me that my daughter has leprosy.

The “Slippery Slope”

August 6, 2014 katierobinson1 Comment

Last night, my daughter got her first taste of boxed macaroni and cheese. My husband jokingly said that it was the gateway drug to every chicken nugget, grilled cheese, plain pizza kid-food that she would ever eat. I laughed and watched her reaction to see if I could tell if she was instantly addicted to pasta. I was only a little bit worried that he was right.

This got me thinking about the idea of a magic moment that makes our kids picky or makes it impossible for them to go to sleep on their own. Whenever I have to do something extra to help my daughter with these “worrisome” tasks (like eating and sleeping), I find myself concerned that I’m creating a monster <RAH!>. But is there really one moment that creates picky-ness?

Must I entirely avoid certain foods to ensure that my daughter continues her vegetable eating life? Or will she get a taste of sugar one day and think, “Now that I know this exists, why would I ever eat anything green again?!”

Many parents who I’ve met through the years have already slid down that slippery slope. They find themselves having to accommodate kids who will only eat this or will only wear that. I’m sure that there was a beginning to this choosiness, but I would like to convince myself that it came about as a result of many decisions made along the way. I don’t think that letting her taste ice cream means that now she’ll only eat that. Right? Because the only way she can only eat ice cream is if that’s the only thing I give her.

It’s hard to stand up to kids who will not branch out and in some cases we don’t need to force them to do something different- like wear a different shirt to school (unless said shirt is so dirty as to be unwearable). But in other cases, it’s our job to help them be healthy and somewhat well-rounded. So we can’t allow them to entirely dictate what they will and won’t eat or when they will and won’t bathe. At the same time, we needn’t be afraid of allowing them to stay up a little late or eat some ice cream for fear of them demanding these things from us in the future. We help them make habits. And one fleeting taste of macaroni and cheese isn’t going to create a powdered cheese monster.

I Thought Everything Would Change

July 14, 2014 katierobinson1 Comment

When speaking with parents (prior to becoming a parent myself) about the ups and downs of life with kids, there was often an unspoken theme: You’ll understand once you have some yourself.

As a parent educator, who did not have kids, I always had to hedge my bets and say, “I can’t fully understand what you all go through as parents…”

There is a line that divides the “haves” and the “have-nots” because there is an overwhelming assumption that you just don’t get it until you’re a parent too.

So when I became a parent, I waited for lightning to strike. I waited to become different, feel more love than I’d ever felt before or hurt over someone else’s pain far more than my own. Then lightning struck in a different way, with the realization that I actually had had a pretty good idea of what it was like to be a parent even before I was one. Blasphemy! And even more, that I was still, fundamentally, the same.

I have read over and over again that there are no words to describe the Herculean task that is parenting. It is sooo hard and yet sooo rewarding. I’ve read how much people’s lives and views and priorities have changed. Plus there’s always the threat of never sleeping again!!!!

Since this is the overwhelming narrative of modern parenting (similar to the knee-jerk trite-ness of “Teachers are our real <underpaid> heroes.”), we basically all subscribe to it whether we’re conscious of it or not.

But I have some confessions to make regarding my pre and post parenting experiences.

#1 It’s never easy to listen to a kid cry, but it’s not so very different for me to listen to my own cry rather than someone else’s. I thought that there would be a magic string inside me that would get wickedly pulled when listening to my daughter cry. Turns out that that’s not true. The real reason that it eventually bothers me is because I hear it more often than I’ve ever heard any other kid cry.

#2 I thought I would love her more than anything ever when she was born. That’s what was supposed to happen, right? But that’s not what happened. A switch didn’t get flipped in me. I didn’t instantly understand, identify and embrace my new role as mother. I didn’t “fall in love” with her. My love for her grew over time and with care. But, it does not suffocate me. It does not eat me alive. I am not kept awake at night with love-filled worries and hopes for her. I love her, a lot, but happily for me, it has not entirely eclipsed my vision.

#3 Caring for and about any kid breeds the same kind of love that I feel for my daughter. It’s not different than love I’ve felt for other people’s kids. With added responsibility and connection, there is more of it, but it seems to be more of the same- not sparkly, magical, all-new love.

These revelations could seem sad to some folks, but I have to admit that I’m so glad to still have my center of gravity intact. I’m glad to still be me.

So while I am not trying to replace the adage of “You’ll understand once you have kids,” I’d like to add to it the possibility that your understanding might stay the same. And everything might not change for you like it’s been foretold.