The Hardest Stage of Parenting

The hardest stage of parenthood is when your children are newborns. All they do is eat and poop and cry and they can't do anything for themselves. You are certain you will never sleep again.

The hardest stage of parenthood is when your children are toddlers. They're into everything and eating everything, including everything they're not supposed to eat, and no surface is safe from their grubby, grabby hands.

The hardest stage of parenthood is when your children are preschoolers. Their motto is I CAN DO IT and sometimes they can't, but tell them so and risk unleashing a monster. They are equal parts charm and insanity, and there is no reasoning with them.

The hardest stage of parenthood is when your children are in elementary school. They're trying hard to sit still when all they really want to do is play. They struggle (and you do, too) with independence. Don't dare call them a little kid, even when they're crawling into your lap to snuggle.

The hardest stage of parenthood is when your children are in middle school. Hormones make a tween a crazy person. They have the body of a young adult and the decision making skills of a 4 year old. They will make you beam with pride, until you discover the boogers they've wiped on the wall.

The hardest stage of parenthood is when your children are teenagers. All they want to do is get away, and, sometimes, you wish they would get away. You try to reconcile their increasing freedoms with your own overwhelming fear. You are tempted to kick them out the door, then scramble to pull them back in and never let go.

The hardest stage of parenthood is when your children are grown. When you stop being number one on their speed dial, and days go by when you don't even know what they're doing. When they talk about their 'family' to other people, and you realize they're not talking about you.

The hardest stage of parenting is the one you're in right now.

The good news is, it's also the easiest.

The Weight of the World

I hemmed and hawed, chewing my lip and furrowing my brow, weighing my words; measuring the necessity of speaking them against the age of the child asking the question. Finally, I spoke -

"Do you know what rape is?"

***

Two summers ago, Katie saw me reading To Kill A Mockingbird. Attracted by the title, and by the picture of a young girl on the cover, she said, "Can I read that?"

She was 8 at the time, and too young in every regard. But it wasn't the larger theme of racism that gave me pause, it was the non-rape. Here was a kid who didn't yet know about sex, did I want her exposed to even the suggestion of such a horrible crime? The answer was, clearly, no.

Every parent dreams of the things they will teach their children. How to ride a bike, catch a ball, read. No parent ever says 'Oh, I can't wait to sit down and tell Susie all about domestic violence!'. We spend a good deal of time sheltering them from harm, protecting them from the truths of an adult world: Most people are good. Some are bad. Some are very, very bad.

We take our time revealing things, because the horror of it all would devastate a child. It is devastating enough as it is. I remember the first glimpses I had of my parents as fallible creatures. Or the first time I was treated unfairly by a teacher. I am the result of a good childhood, mostly exempt of trauma. Still, I recall realizing that there are people who want nothing more than to hurt other people. It was shocking.

***

We've been waiting to hear what the spring production of the local community theater is going to be, as Katie wants to audition. I saw the news yesterday, so when she got in the car after school, I told her -

"It's To Kill a Mockingbird."
"What's it about?"

And so I told her, and we talked about racism and classism. We talked about the book, and I told her we'd read it together. We talked about the goodness and decency of people who friend the friendless, and stand up for the ignored. She asked me, in the voice of innocence, with a belief in all that is right, 'What was the crime?' And I took a deep breath, looked her in the eye, and said -

"Do you know what rape is?"

Dear SFC, (Your Kids are Jerks!)

I received a letter in my inbox awhile back and couldn't wait to answer it. The problem was, the longer I thought about it, the more my opinion changed. There are several questions, so I'm going to break it up for you. 

Dear SFC,

 

I have a bit of a problem.  I have several friends who subscribe to a theory of parenting that is foreign to me.  Which is fine--whatever works, right?  Here’s the thing:  I don’t like inviting them on outings, and certainly not to my house for social events. 

 

These parents view social gatherings as free babysitting.  The parents eat, mingle, and ignore their children.  Did I mention their children are hellions?  So the care of their gremlins is left to me, as hostess of the event, or God forbid, my other guests.  This has happened multiple times, all by the same parents.  I have had furniture ruined, rips in upholstery, various things broken, and too many spills to mention.  It’s not that we own such invaluable things, it’s the principle of the thing. 

 

Are you talking about me? Just kidding. I think. Look, I've been in your position. I've had things in my house broken, I've had kids jumping on my furniture. After our Christmas party last year, I found cubes of cheese hidden everywhere. It was Easter before I found the last little bit squirreled away under the bathroom sink. I've also been on the other side. I'll admit to not watching my kids too closely at social events (especially where other kids are present). I've backed out of a friend's house muttering apologies and wincing at the damage. Here's a couple of questions: Are your friends apologetic? Do they offer to repair or pay for any damage? If they're just laughing it off, they don't value your home and maybe not your friendship. 

 

On your side of things: What do you have for these kids to do? Chances are, your house is boring as shit. Unless you have age appropriate toys, what else do they have to do but break stuff? If you have a kid between the ages of 3 and 7 as a guest, without providing them with an activity, you're asking for trouble. You're lucky if they get out of there with covering your cat in vomit or setting something on fire.

 

I value my relationship with these folks.  I just can’t stand them as parents.

 

Well, here's the bottom line. You value your relationship with them. So maybe the next time they come over, you have a cool craft the kids can do outside. Or you set them up in a safe environment away from things that you don't want them messing with. When we have other kids over, I always tell my children if there's something they don't want to share, put it away in a safe place until the others leave. It's a good practice for adults, too. I never leave my bong out when friends visit. 

 

To remedy this, my husband and I have tried to have kid-free events.  But, that’s not really fair to the friends we have who actually watch their kids.  

 

God. Sure it is. There is nothing wrong with hosting kid free events, as long as your kids are gone, too. Because having your kids there and telling everyone else to leave theirs at home is just assy.

 

I have a friend who I have sworn off eating in public with because she fails to see the necessity of the child eating at the table in a chair (!?!).  She lets her little one roam about the restaurant and thinks this is the adorable thing.  If only the fellow patrons of the restaurant shared her sentiment.  I mean, everyone likes to eat while having a child run about, right?—smearing mashed potatoes on everything they touch?  Precious!

 

Agreed. Mostly. Most parents try to frequent family friendly establishments, or pick places where they can easily go outside with a restless child. Slow service is a bitch when you have a kid under the age of about 8. But I'll admit that I've sat and finished coffee with friends on multiple occasions and let Henry walk around the coffee shop. Mashed potato-free, of course. 

 

Now, I don’t have a problem speaking my mind when it comes to how their parenting effects me.  My problem is tact.  How do I have a party and nicely ask them to either not bring their kids, or vow to watch them?

 

I am the most non-confrontational person, maybe EVER. The very first thing I would do is do what I can to remedy the problem - namely, give the kids something to do. A movie, a craft, a board game, an outside activity, whatever I could think of to help them not be bored. Bored kids = crazy kids. If it's a party where several children will be attending, I'd even consider springing for a babysitter, or getting an older tween or teen to be the cruise director for the evening. It's a small investment that would give you some serious peace of mind. 

But my best advice is this: Chill. And if you ever find yourself letting Junior down in a coffee shop to walk around so you can take five minutes and finish a conversation, have a bite of crow with that coffee.

I Have All the Answers

In a perfect world, my children would give me written notice of any hard questions they will be asking, 24 hours in advance. That way, I would have time to craft the perfect, honest-yet-age-appropriate answer. Instead, they zing one at me and I go "Uh, uh, uh, uh..." before stammering out something that may or may not answer the question.

Today alone, I have been asked:
1. What exactly are all the parts of the vagina?
2. What is sexual abuse?
3. What happens when all the people in town die? (I can only assume this has something to do with a zombie apocalypse. I am so damned tired of these zombie questions.)
4. When you and Daddy die, where would we go and live?
5. If you get really sick and the doctor can't make you better and you go to the hospital and they can't make you all better, before you die do you turn all green and yucky? (Again with the zombies?)

The last one is the only one I managed to answer without hesitation.

Last week I tackled lesbians, meth, and why boys get to pee standing up.

It has always been our policy to be honest, or as honest as we can be. The Husband wants no part in talking about lady business, so conversations about vaginas and boobies and babies fall squarely on my shoulders. So when Katie came home and told us that someone had kicked her in the nuts, it was up to me to set her straight.

"Honey, you don't have nuts."
"Well, what are nuts?"
"You know testicles? Testicles are nuts. Sometimes boys also call them balls."
"WHAT?"
 

Little truths are mind blowing when you're small.

The older they get, the harder the questions, and the grayer the answers. Conversations now often contain phrases like "we believe" or "I think". Sometimes we can give the facts and lay out a truth, and sometimes we just have to build a foundation and let them reach their own conclusions.

This parenting gig - it's a breeze.

Dear SFC,

My 10 year old is having a problem at school. Her friend M- said that my daughter told M- that she was ugly. M's mom called me and I talked to my daughter, who claimed she didn't say it. I made my daughter apologize for the misunderstanding. My other friend J- said her daughter B- heard M- say that she heard another friend, P- say it. Should I confront P's mom? Should I tell M's mom that B- said M- heard P- say it? Help!!!
Signed, 
HoverMother in SC


Dear HoverMother,


Are you fucking serious? If I had a dime for every time some kid hurt my feelings in elementary school, I'd have more money than I've made with this highly successful blog (that's $44.31, to be exact). Kids are jerks. They say jerky things, they act in jerky ways, they lack empathy, tact, and the filter between brain and mouth.


The very first mistake in this situation was made by M's mom. Why did she need to call you? She should have set her kid down, said "Honey, kids are jerks. You are beautiful and it doesn't matter what some jerky kid says." Or, teach her the retort, "So?" (I learned that one from Little Bill).


Last summer, Katie and one of her friends were prank calling another friend, singing songs and hanging up on her. The girl's mother called me in tears because her kid was upset. In tears. You know what I do if some kid prank calls my house? I pick up the phone and say "Knock it off, jerkface." and they don't call back again. I don't even have to cry about it.


There is a point when normal behavior crosses the line into bullying. There are times when it's appropriate and necessary for a parent to step in and take action. But before you do that, ask yourself - is this situation a detriment to my child's social life or learning environment? Or is this an opportunity for them to learn to stand up for themselves?


Also, what part does my kid have in this? Are they a target, or did they start it? One of the most difficult things to admit is that our precious snowflake is the jerk in question.


We get so wrapped up sometimes in providing our kids with the perfect childhood experience that we forget how important the sucky parts are. The sucky parts teach us humility and patience and kindness and courage and resiliency and a dozen other traits that make us successful grown ups. If we rush in to save the day every time someone farts in the direction of our kid, we're doing them a huge disservice.


Sometimes when we stand back, we teach them to stand tall.

Why Were You Born?

This popped up on my Facebook page tonight and caught me by surprise. Sure, it's just a stupid quiz that claims it will crack my code in  ten easy questions, but it gave me pause. Why was I born?

Because it was the 70s and my mom had a weakness for Tom Jones and doobies? Because someone needed to come along and perfect banana bread? Because without me, the Industries for the Blind people would have no one to buy their $40 light bulbs and $65 trash bags (which are really terrific, you have to admit)?

Clearly, I had to take the quiz and find out my life's purpose.

How do you like to spend your weekends? 
Since riding in my private jet with Colin Firth was not an option (and really, if I am going to pretend to have a private jet, I am going to have my celebrity husband flying with me), I chose spending time with friends and family. Yawn.

What is your signature style?
Nursing bras and granny panties were, oddly, not on the list. I went with "cute and comfortable".

What makes you happy? 
Accolades from other people, duh! I mean, the love of my family. Right.

Do you want kids?
A little fucking late to be asking this one, don't you think?

When you walk into a room, people...
Hide the liquor and knives.

A half dozen more of these insightful questions and the answers is revealed. (Drumroll, please!)

YOU WERE BORN TO HAVE A FAMILY

You are sensible and family-oriented. You think about the future and you value what's truly important in life. You are loving and loyal.

Are you sure? Not YOU WERE BORN TO BE A ROCKSTAR or YOU WERE BORN TO MARRY COLIN FIRTH or even YOU WERE BORN TO SHAKE YOUR MONEY MAKER. 

You were born to have a family. Ten questions on a quiz written by some jackass frat kid all hopped up on Five Hour Energy has pegged me, square. Thank you, frat kid, and thank you, Facebook, for justifying my life choices and restoring my faith in my ability to parent. It is, after all, what I was born to do.