Parenting rocks. Parenting sucks. Parenting rocks.
There are great sources of information out there. And terrible sources of information out there. There are great sources of information out there. 
When it comes to parenting (mothering in particular), we are our own worst enemies. We are also – potentially – our greatest cheerleaders and sources of shared experience.
- Think that’s true or a lot of crap?
- Think I have experience to share, or I’m full of it?
- Think I think I’ve done it “all right?” Not.
Burst my bubble. Go on. I’ve been through worse.
My parenting has sucked. It has also rocked. And then sucked again.
Clarifications on language and psychology
Yesterday I went off on a tangent dealing with language usage. First – apologies to Sarah if in any way she was miffed that I used her remark out of context, as the jumping off point for my thoughts. I worried all evening about whether or not I had unintentionally offended; my impression of Sarah is that she is a terrific mother of three little ones, and we all know what a talented writer she is.
Damn difficult to find the precise word to please everyone, when you’re pumping out remarkable articles and comments to your readers, which both Sarah and Jen do non-stop, at Momalom.
I also thought about the pop psychologists (the TV personalities with no degrees, much to say, and quick fix solutions to complex problems). And I considered the “non pop” psychologists and others in the counseling profession who spend years studying and in practice, in the service of helping others.
Psychology rocks. Psychology sucks. Psychology rocks.
As with anything else – there are those with a gift, we form the right kind of bond, and through shared work and interaction, we make enormous progress toward living life in more productive ways, and leading our children through a healthier, more satisfying upbringing.
My beef
My intention in yesterday’s writing was not to disparage anyone, but to encourage us to see how much power there is in language, and that power is within our control, free of charge.
Language is critical. Using it, interpreting it, and learning from it. The words we let loose in our heads impact self-esteem. The words we exchange with those we love and with whom we work are far more influential than we realize (work being the location where precise vocabularies are easier).
And my particular beef with women (and mothers) – and thus, myself – is that we second guess and undermine our own internal guidance systems through self-recrimination, unrealistic expectations, and language. In changing our words, in being more specific, we not only can give ourselves a break (and most of us should), but we can effect change. Positive change.
On being “present”
There’s a great deal of emphasis on “being present” in our lives. I’m reading (and hearing it) everywhere.
If “being present” becomes one more thing heaped onto a precariously overloaded schedule or an overrun daily list of to-do items, then what? Isn’t it just one more burden, and don’t we beat ourselves up if we can’t be more present? 
- How can you feel good about your moments when you live in a stream of sleep-deprived diapers, fluids, feedings, and too little adult company?
- How can you feel present when you’ve got three kids fighting incessantly, vying for your attention, and you’re scrambling to pay the basic bills and juggling two jobs?
Sometimes our real “present” is about surviving, not moments of tender togetherness. We may have a fleeting moment of our illusion of “present parenting” – more likely when the clamor dies down and sweet faces are asleep – but let’s not expect miracles of ourselves during periods of time when getting through the day is miracle enough.
Popping the parenting bubble
I have had times when I lived in a parenting bubble. Some of it was the blur of exhaustion. Some of it was before any real “problems” hit.
Mostly, I’ve learned by trial and error, enhanced by expert advice at difficult junctures. My parenting bubble burst with separation 9 years ago, and it’s been a crap shoot every since, along with being guided by my kids through this journey to adolescence. And believe me – I second guessed myself. There were glorious highs (I barely recall in the blur) and terrible lows, and we aren’t done yet. There is no smooth journey; that’s what I’ve come to realize looking at the past, and living in my present.
My parenting has rocked. My parenting has sucked. My parenting has rocked. As it has and will for all of us.
All these years later – still uncertain, still tired, and still aware of my parenting shortcomings – I look at the larger picture and realize I’ve done the best I possibly could. There have been times I’ve been of no help whatsoever to my kids – stressed and exhausted themselves. There have been other times I’ve given them permission to not perform in some way, so they might relax, and be kids.
Choosing words carefully (and listening to the echo)
Through everything – to the best of my ability – I’ve chosen my words as carefully as possible. More so because I am the child of an abusive parent who did not choose her words. If anything, her invective and everyday manipulation of language cut me down and marked me in insidious ways. Indelibly.
Use your words kindly for yourselves, explicitly to better understand what your children may be hearing, and in dealing with each other. Listen to the echo – to the words your children use – and how they absorb what is heard at home.
Parenting can be brutal, but those of us who engage with all our hearts know it is also the most important job there is. I’m way beyond that burst bubble of thinking it was predictable, containable, perfectible – or all within my control. It’s none of those things, a bit of those things, and there’s nothing “just” about any of that.
© D A Wolf
Thank you for this, Wolfie… I hate that I am adding to the pile of stuff about presence – I am sorry about that. I do hope desperately to find a way to feel about being engaged in my life that doesn’t feel like yet another burden. Sometimes it does – another thing I have to juggle, think about, take care of.
And often it is words that are my lifeline, my way out of my dark swamps and my way of immortalizing the blinding joys. Thank you for this reminder that both the swamps and the joys are just a part of the ride, and will always be.
I went through all kinds of self-anger when I felt like I wasn’t enjoying motherhood enough. I finally said screw it. Because there are just some days when you can’t stand NOT to get the laundry done or vacuum. And voila! Once it’s done, I can relax with my kids. (And sometimes the LAST thing I want to do is laundry and I say, screw it, and hang out with my kids 🙂
I think when I stopped trying to live in the moment is when I started.
“Parenting can be brutal, but those of us who engage with all our hearts know it is also the most important job there is.”
This is what I’m taking with me today. Because that is the best reminder. Thank you (and thank you for your comment yesterday!)
Um, was this directed to me? : ) Yes, we are too hard on ourselves as mothers. And yes, parenting sucks, rocks, and sucks again.
As for psychology? I enjoy perusing through the most recent articles on parenting. It gives me further perspectives to share. But, more often than not, I find the advice further moves me toward disparaging. I am trying to find more balance. More kindness toward myself.
Thank you for your insight and wisdom.
I can’t get enough of you.
The way you write. . . Sublime.
Tishxo
Psychology is all about doing work on yourself, and a good psychologist generally just listens to you, and asks questions to help you work on yourself. They don’t give advice. Which is why I find it amusing that some psychologists are out there giving advice. Change comes from within. Some people respond to preachy advice, some to instruction manuals, some to seeing the mistakes others make. That’s why blogs are fun – you see a mix.
“When I stopped trying to live in the moment is when I started.”
Great one!
Such a ripe topic and so many thoughtful responses. I sometimes wonder how much more content I would be if I simply took all the time I spent feeling guilty about things – things related to mothering and things related to life as a relatively privileged person in general – and used that time to actually live my life. But I think, to some extent, self-knowledge is both a blessing and a curse. It is a gift to know your strengths and your weakness, but a burden to then feel like you have to do something about them.
Wonderful words and sentiments behind the words. Now I am off to write as you have inspired me.
Talking about psychology. Dr Phil has a degree and he’s a complete idiot. Degrees are only worth the paper they’re written on. Experts are overrated and they inflate their own self worth anyway. All of us are “Expert” parents through the practice of actually doing it, not from getting a degree. Imagine if there were a degree for parenting. I’d laugh outright at anyone who pursued it. Our parenting sucks, then it’s good, then it sucks again. you’re right. But, that’s how life is with anything you love and do a lot. Painters don’t always produce masterpieces, sometimes they just suck it up. Writers likewise. Psychologists too. Degrees are for crap is my opinion. All that matters is loving to do something, trying our best and hoping we have more victories than failures.
Interesting (and thoughtful) perspective – particularly on those who are self-proclaimed experts, or are considered experts – with or without the sheepskin.
Some individuals are superb at what they do – as natural teachers or leaders, healers or advisors. In the professions, I know that I’ve run across outstanding and empathetic Physicians Assistants who have (in my experience) been of more assistance than the physicians themselves. We grant far too much power to those deemed authorities or experts, and not enough to what feels right – and that does include those experts – credentials and all – who more than live up to our very high expectations of them.
By the way, I’ve begun a piece on the Profession of Parenting – because while we could never authenticate one’s skills in it – truly – it is a profession. Unpaid, easily dismissed, without (verifiable) required (minimal) skills – and yet – a profession.
I have found other parents to be much more commonsensical than all of the books I accumulated when my kids were little. They usually helped me forgive myself when I did something horrible, like let my kids eat all of their Halloween candy in three days. 🙂 Parents of older kids can be tremendously empathetic “elders” for parents of younger ones — it does indeed take a village.
I do think in some respects that we cultify (word?) parenting in this country and then create standards that mean that we will always be failing in some way or another. I’m not sure why.
I agree with you on this: in some respects… we cultify (word?) parenting in this country and then create standards that mean that we will always be failing in some way or another. I also don’t know why. (Bruce – where are you? A stab at that?)
Having lived overseas, the differences in parenting are dramatic, like other cultural differences. If we look at the way parenting was handled in the 60s in the US, however, we seem to have really swung to another extreme – at least among the more “privileged” segments. Except that with the proliferation of all kinds of media – the expectations get skewed and are “out there” in a more general way.
The European families I know do pay closer attention to the raising of children than was done some 30 or 40 years ago – yet they have shifted somewhat, rather than pulled a pendulum swing.
I suspect that the reasons are complex and deeply rooted not only in culture, but the social infrastructure that provides easier access to health care, education, family time off, a fairly different employment environment, and so on.
Americans have never been good at moderation. After all, as a country, we’re adolescents.
Great points.
Cultify is a great word. There are sooo many mommy cults. The hipster mommies, the green mommies, the attachment-parenting mommies, the anti-other-mommy mommies, on and on….
I never fit into any of them. I was 100 when I was 20.
I considered myself very much in the “present” when my kids were little – every second I was taking care of them, unable to imagine what the next second would bring!
I’ve known since the very beginning that I could never do it all. I’ve known that I would never be a perfect parent. Probably because I was such an imperfect womb (son, born a pound and a half – bad mom…) and how amazing that was to be able to trust the doctors to save his life. Yet, guess what? They too were imperfect, able to make mistakes as well.
Thanks for another thought-provoking post.
As an educator I am granted (exposed to?) a larger snapshot of the average parenting style than most people. This view really allows the comment about moderation to ring true. On one end of the spectrum you have the parents who are extremely uninvolved because they have not personally grown up. On the other end are the parents who are micro-managing every aspect of their child’s life causing an undue amount of stress. Very few parents are able to find the level of moderation necessary to achieve balance in their child’s life.
wow, what a thoughtful post and comments.
i cant believe how hard parenting can be, and how gratifying it can be.
sometimes, i cant believe i am a parent myself 🙂
That’s funny – for years I had to pinch myself that I was actually a parent. Now, I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like to not be a parent! (Which is kind of cool.)
After many years of striving with this goal in mind, I eventually realised that there’s no such thing as a perfect parent and that being Good Enough is ok.
Apart from anything else, imagine the load of expectation that a perfect parent places on their offspring. I reckon kids need a wee bit of adversity to temper their personalities and learn how to deal with conflict in the wider world.
My theory is that we’re all so busy trying to avoid the mistakes that our own parents made in their parenting of us that we commit all sort of new mistakes which our kids will, in turn, be so busy trying to avoid etc, etc.
If, as a parent, you can look back over the course of a day and tell yourself that you did a few things well, then the bits that didn’t go so well don’t matter so much.
I can’t have done too badly – my kids still talk to me. They’ve even forgiven me for telling them that a gasometer beside one of the Scottish motorways was Disneyland. Not sure if I’ll ever be excused the shark in the toilet episode though … not my finest moment.
Perhaps the sagest advice of all.
Now about that shark…
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Thanks again and have a nice day! 🙂
Well you know americans. they always want to feel better fast. As for the U.S. being adolescent, it is way younger than that. Believe me. I’m froma country that is older than 200 years,
Maybe I’ll tell you the shark story one day …
In the meantime, climbing back up on my soapbox …
I think the main reason we have so many badly behaved kids around is that their parents want to be their best friends and cannot refuse them anything.
The job of a mother or father is not to be their kids’ chum, it’s to be their parent; someone’s got to be in charge and it’s better to be an adult than a six year old.
The time for friendship with your kids is later, once they start to become sensible adults themselves.
Having said all that, if any of mine get round to producing grandchildren for me I intend to spoil them rotten! 🙂
This is an absolutely extraordinary piece of writing and thinking. I love it most when you are just a wee bit vulnerable, Wolfie. Thank you for opening up to your personal side just a little bit to back up your ever-poignant subject matter.
Parenting rocks. Parenting sucks. Parenting rocks. Indeed. I am in the throes not just day to day, but minute by minute. The ups and downs are like a tidal wave I can’t seem to navigate. Washed over. I am. Tired of fighting. Wanting to ride. Knowing I can’t quite easily enough.
Me and a fire and a fresh cup of coffee. More on this later. (In my mind, at least.)
Parenting, and family life as a whole, has left me in pieces of late, and I don’t feel enough brain power to even respond articulately to your beautiful, heartfelt, true writing. But I’ve been here. And I’ve been reading. And I’ve been thinking about your words and ideas and insights. Thank you.