This isn’t a super new topic for me to write about. In fact, I have blogged many times about the challenges of being a parent, my own person, and a good partner. Today, I am taking one angle of that and diving in.
Being a parent is hard, y’all. Being the parent of a toddler is incredibly bittersweet. I love seeing her grow and change and yadayadayada. Sometimes. It. Sucks. Rosemary has started doing this thing where she makes up absurd stories about what’s going on. Some of them are delightful and fun. Others are downright scary. Until she can better understand HOW to use words, we are keeping her back from preschool programs because I think she would be a terrible student to have around. Teachers are supposed to teach and encourage, yes, BUT, it’s also my job as the parent to try and make sure she has the basics of kindness, sharing, language and empathy down. And right now, her world consists of me, her auntie, her lovely Thea, her Cici, or her daddy “striking her.” Or if she is telling the story in the past-tense, it’s “struck.” Okay, do I have your attention? Great. What I have learned that she actually means is that she is inserting us into the world of Frozen. Where Elsa “struck” Anna… with her power. “Mama struck me and then I ran away. And it really hurt.” OR there’s this one… “Daddy and Chris hurt me.” What she means is Daddy and Chris hurt her ears while they were practicing their guitars in the living room. But if you don’t know this or have time to decode Rosemary talk, you would think, “WTF.” I mean, I live in it and I am constantly wondering how she is picking all of this up. Like, seriously, WTF? I can’t send her to daycare. Because if she came home saying any of that about the teachers or other students, I would live in a perpetual state of wondering if she is safe. We need to work on a few things first so that I can trust her to be a good student, friend, and reliable source of information.
Another crazy toddler thing? The clumsiness. I am fairly certain she is going to break an arm or leg at some point. She is so adventurous. Sometimes, that’s incredibly fun. Sometimes, it’s just terrifying. I was that mom who refused to go to the park during COVID. I was too scared of kid germs. But as we have moved on and better understand the virus (and I live in the safest state in the USA) I have resolved myself to stop worrying and live our lives. So, we go to the park now. The girl can climb a ladder and ride down crazy slides with grace and beauty but will literally bruise herself all up on the mother’s helper stool in my kitchen trying to do acrobatic tricks. When I first noticed bruise spots on her arms, I automatically assumed I was the problem- after all, those are the ones that people get nervous about when they see them on a kiddo. Maybe when I picked her up I was too rough? Maybe I hug her too tight? Maybe I don’t know my own strength? I freaked myself out and went down a dark hole of self-loathing. What I have since realized is that my kid is brave, silly, and outgoing. She bruises herself. I don’t bruise her. The fact that I even thought I was holding her too tight is freaking absurd. While I am strong, you have to actually try to bruise- and I am not like that. But I still feel a little shy and embarrassed around other parents because we all judge the crap out of each other. But trust me, in my quest to figure out her bruising I can tell you how she got every single one- including the random one on the back of her hip (thank you booster seat at the dinner table). Seriously though, there was a week where I hated myself and thought I was a terrible mom because I couldn’t stop her from hurting herself or slowing down. Now, I am not a great mom- but I am trying to be. Do I think I will get there? Probably not. I am not patient enough to be great and there is always a next hurdle that I know will trip me up. But I am loving, gentle, funny, and encouraging of her. And that’s enough for today.
My identity as a mom has been really challenged in the past six months. Today, I was discussing with my husband how our parenting has changed and the ways it needs to continue to change. We are no longer parents of a baby who sleeps 10 hours a day and is content in her toy area for hours. We are the parents of an active and super smart toddler. I have got to continue to adjust how I parent so that I am giving her great experiences and great boundaries. That shit is hard. It’s also been liberating for me. I mean, I knew I was a mom the day I found out I was pregnant. But there was always this fight within me about measuring up, being perfect, and being seen as enough of a decent person to be a mom. I have gotten her this far- I am a mom; I am her mom. I don’t need anyone to tell me I am doing a good job. I don’t need for people to see me as a “good mom” because I just really don’t care what people think; it’s too time consuming and takes away from me actually being present with my kid. I do not need anything from anyone except my family. I don’t need someone to judge me for the crazy things she says. I mean, she spent like 2 hours with a babysitter on Sunday and if I were to believe anything she said, I would have called the police! Judgement can go both ways there… haha. But seriously, don’t worry, my sitter is the best EVER.
To conclude: parenting is hard. Give yourself some grace. Send some my way. And if you have any tips on teaching toddlers how to properly use words- email me at thesaltyexchange@gmail.com. Seriously. Help.
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