She ate on a schedule, slept 8 hours at 8 weeks old, by eight months she could recite flash cards, saying things like "Apple" with deliberate precision. As a toddler she never ran away from me, and when told "no", not only did she cry, but she burned the experience into her memory, and was never told no about the same thing twice. Why am I telling you this? ... because I was convinced that this had something to do with me, and I judged all those "other moms".
Two years later I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.
Shortly after we took him home, he began to cry. And he cried, and he cried, and he cried...for six straight months. I mean I may be exaggerating here. There were times when he didn't cry, like when my breast was in his mouth, or the 45 minutes at a time he would sleep, but other than that, he was crying. He crawled at six months (maybe why he stopped crying), and walked at 9, by 10 months he ran. He unlocked doors, darted into traffic, attempted to eat poisonous berries, and when he was told "no", he turned, smiled and ran as fast as he could in the direction of the off limit item.
Two short years after that my third child was born.
This sweet boy was also beautiful, and calm, a joy for his father and I. He was easygoing, patient, and adaptable, and we were grateful.
Josh and I had an authoritative parenting style. Feeling that the stricter we got, the more ordered things would become. We laid down rules, outlawed things, said "NO" on a constant basis, and dragged children to time out benches. Grace adapted, and spent most of her time trying to figure out how to please us. Luke did not, he fought, screamed, threw tantrums, broke things, and we assumed that he needed more rules and punishment. I saw the stares of other mothers in the grocery store or at the library during story time, and I knew what they were thinking because I had though it, too. They were thinking I was a bad mother, and it weighed heavily on me.
In school Grace excelled, was a favorite. Teachers judged me fit by her behavior. For Luke school was a constant struggle, his academics were fine, but behaviorally he was always in trouble, and it seemed like no amount of punishment. (I should explain that we agreed not to spank and never have, although many times I came close completely out of anger and frustration), threatening, lectures, or disappointment made any difference. The judging looks his teacher gave me at his daily pick up added to my stress and frustration. I wanted her to think I was a good mother.
One day while driving home from half day kindergarten with just Luke and I in the car, he started crying and said, "Mom, you never should have pushed me out, because I'm bad." I was devastated, here my five year old was saying he never should have been born. That moment made me rethink everything I'd been doing. This high spirited, hilarious, energetic boy was being broken. He believed he wasn't good.
We found a fantastic counselor who turned us onto a fabulous parenting book, and accompanying class, which taught us that we had to let our children have natural consequences, not imposed or logical, but natural, that punishment only caused shame, and shame didn't change behavior for the better. When I understood why Luke was rebeling (because he felt like he had no choice), I understood how to make things better. Our authoritative, controlling parenting methods were turning Grace into a pleaser who didn't want to take risks for fear of failure, and were turning Luke into a black sheep rebel, who felt he could never do anything right.
Things have greatly improved for all five of us since we've been practicing this new style of parenting. Our children have opened up to us in surprising ways, and we've developed bonds I never knew parents could have with their children.
The biggest lesson I've learned is to not care about what other people think of me as a parent. My focus on what other people thought, made me less effective. I didn't know how to advocate for my children. I was so worried about the kind of parent people perceived me to be that I missed being a good one.
We still aren't perfect parents. We mess up constantly, even by our standards, and people still give me dirty looks, or unsolicited parenting advice, but I just don't care anymore. I know that I am the best person to make parenting decisions for my children, and what you think about them just doesn't really matter.
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