My neighbor and I were sitting outside talking yesterday about those leashes that some parents put on their kids (I use one with Lulu)...and I recalled being very judgmental when I saw parents in public - being "bad" parents - that was before I had kids.
You've seen them:
- The Mom who sits on the sidelines of the play-place at the mall, almost asleep, while Little Jimmy runs around the place making the other kids miserable;
- The Dad who is sitting at a table stuffing fries down Julie Mae's throat;
- The Mom AND Dad who are pushing Suzy and Johnny in a stroller and not even paying attention to where they are going (almost hitting other people).
Heck, you might have even BEEN that parent at one point or another...and that is OKAY! I didn't understand that concept before having children. I could only look at them and say to myself, "Good grief, I will NEVER be that parent...ever!"
Oh, was I wrong.
What I didn't understand was that Little Jimmy's mom has been dealing with her son's ADHD for days on end, with no break, no vacation, and no sleep. She has been doing everything she can to keep him occupied while trying to get him accustomed to socializing with other children. She hasn't done anything for herself in years because she isn't able to sit down...ever. She would love to take a nap while Little Jimmy naps - but his mind is so incredibly active that he can't take a nap during the day
What I couldn't have known is Julie Mae had refused to eat any real food for the last week. She has a new little sibling - who was back home with mom - and decided to only drink from her sippy cup, just like the baby. When her parents can get her to eat, it might be as much as a 1/2 piece of cheese or 1 chicken nugget. This is the first time that she has had any interest in eating solid food - so dad jumped at the chance and bought her a large order of fries.
What I failed to notice about Suzy and Johnny was that they are twins. The joy of having children was multiplied by 2 for this family...and with 2 children comes 2 times the work. Mom and Dad haven't slept in weeks because as soon as one baby calms down - the other gets all revved up. They both get fed at the same time, and get changed at the same time, and skip naps at the same time, and scream at the same time. Both are colic-y, so neither parent has had a wink of sleep - literally - for months. This is the first time they've all ventured out of the house and the mall seemed like a great choice. Unfortunately their lack of sleep means they can't focus as well as I could - without kids.
I get it now and I feel their pain.
I see the looks I get when Lulu is running around like a crazy girl - I know I' m being judged when I buy 2 large fries at McDonald's (oh my gawd - is she going eat all that herself?!) - and when I raise my voice on occasion while Bubba screams in my ear, I can only imagine what Single Sally Homemaker is whispering to her girlfriends...
The one thing that I don't do anymore - is jump to a judgmental conclusion...because I have been there...and now, I understand.
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Monday, August 29
Tuesday, October 13
Lesson #5 - The Word "Adoption' Is Too Big For Small Minds
I have always known, from the time I could talk, that I was adopted. I mean, it was a little hard to hide since my parents look VERY different from myself. My parents always told me that they didn't choose me, but that I chose them - which, to a preschooler is pretty darn cool. The one thing my parents didn't tell me, either because they wanted to shield me or due to their own naivety, was that the word "adoption" is not taught to everyone. It is difficult for a 4-year-old to understand that while her family is normal - to her - it is very ABnormal to everyone else. Well, school was going to teach me that lesson the hard way.
When I think about the times that I tried to explain my home situation, my mind goes back to elementary and middle schools. My first day of Kindergarten does not stand out in my head...the day I was made fun of for being adopted, does. I was on the playground with a hop-scotch group when one of the girls asked why my mommy an daddy looked different than me. With excitement I began to explain how my family-unit came to be...yet, as soon as I mentioned "adoption" everyone froze. Try as I might, my abilities to explain the word just didn't suffice. I got confused looks, befuddled comments and some even ignored me. Soon enough we all forgot and went about our business. That day went by like any other day at school. I finished my game during recess, sang during music, colored during art and got on the bus to go home.
The next day was quite a different story. I found myself back outside at recess, with my same play group, playing hop-scotch after lunch. The tone, however, was quite different than from the day before. Suddenly, one girl (whom I thought was a dear friend, but what did I know at 4-years old?!) looked at me and said, "Your mommy and daddy aren't your real parents." I'm sorry, what?! What do you MEAN they aren't my real parents?! They take care of me, feed me when I'm hungry, comfort me when I cry, fix my bo-bo's when I get hurt...isn't that what real parents do?? The concept of my parents not REALLY being my parents was very foreign to me. The girl then proceeds to say, "Your real mommy and daddy didn't love you...so they decided to give you up to another mommy and daddy." WHOA!!! I had never thought of it like that before. Thoughts were swirling through my head - thoughts that I had never thought before. The hop-scotch game quickly ended when the girl said, "Ha-ha...you're parents don't love you," and then threw a rock at me.
That night, with tears in my eyes, I went to my parents to inquire as to whether or not they loved me. My parents were, of course, taken aback by my questions and asked where they were coming from. I told them about my experience at school and explained what the girl in my class had said to me. My mom began crying. I'm sure she knew the topic would come up at some point, but I don't think she was quite ready to explain it to my 5-year-old mind.
She started by saying that she and my father loved me very much. In fact, they loved me even MORE because they thought of me as a gift from God. She explained that, for one reason or another, she and my father couldn't have a baby together. While my parents were trying to have a baby, they went to many doctor visits to figure out why they weren't having children. Then, one day, a good friend went to my parents and said that she knew of a woman who had gotten pregnant by accident. This woman didn't have the means or resources to take care of a child, but she didn't want to get rid of it. Finding a happy home for her child was her only option - and she choose my parents. It all made sense after my mom explained everything and I was glad that .
I saw my family with new eyes after that night. I know it sounds heavy and, for a 5-year-old, it really was deeper than any Kindergartener should have to understand. The next day at school, when that mean little girl came up to me at recess, I was able to look her in the face and say - with confidence - that my mommy and daddy probably loved me MORE than her mommy and daddy loved her. Now, I know that probably wasn't true, but it sounded good as it came out of my mouth. Seeing her run away crying also instilled a sense of "gotcha." From that point on, I had the whole story to tell - just in case any OTHER kid wanted to tell me that my mommy and daddy didn't love me...to the contrary, they loved me more than words could describe.
When I think about the times that I tried to explain my home situation, my mind goes back to elementary and middle schools. My first day of Kindergarten does not stand out in my head...the day I was made fun of for being adopted, does. I was on the playground with a hop-scotch group when one of the girls asked why my mommy an daddy looked different than me. With excitement I began to explain how my family-unit came to be...yet, as soon as I mentioned "adoption" everyone froze. Try as I might, my abilities to explain the word just didn't suffice. I got confused looks, befuddled comments and some even ignored me. Soon enough we all forgot and went about our business. That day went by like any other day at school. I finished my game during recess, sang during music, colored during art and got on the bus to go home.
The next day was quite a different story. I found myself back outside at recess, with my same play group, playing hop-scotch after lunch. The tone, however, was quite different than from the day before. Suddenly, one girl (whom I thought was a dear friend, but what did I know at 4-years old?!) looked at me and said, "Your mommy and daddy aren't your real parents." I'm sorry, what?! What do you MEAN they aren't my real parents?! They take care of me, feed me when I'm hungry, comfort me when I cry, fix my bo-bo's when I get hurt...isn't that what real parents do?? The concept of my parents not REALLY being my parents was very foreign to me. The girl then proceeds to say, "Your real mommy and daddy didn't love you...so they decided to give you up to another mommy and daddy." WHOA!!! I had never thought of it like that before. Thoughts were swirling through my head - thoughts that I had never thought before. The hop-scotch game quickly ended when the girl said, "Ha-ha...you're parents don't love you," and then threw a rock at me.
That night, with tears in my eyes, I went to my parents to inquire as to whether or not they loved me. My parents were, of course, taken aback by my questions and asked where they were coming from. I told them about my experience at school and explained what the girl in my class had said to me. My mom began crying. I'm sure she knew the topic would come up at some point, but I don't think she was quite ready to explain it to my 5-year-old mind.
She started by saying that she and my father loved me very much. In fact, they loved me even MORE because they thought of me as a gift from God. She explained that, for one reason or another, she and my father couldn't have a baby together. While my parents were trying to have a baby, they went to many doctor visits to figure out why they weren't having children. Then, one day, a good friend went to my parents and said that she knew of a woman who had gotten pregnant by accident. This woman didn't have the means or resources to take care of a child, but she didn't want to get rid of it. Finding a happy home for her child was her only option - and she choose my parents. It all made sense after my mom explained everything and I was glad that .
I saw my family with new eyes after that night. I know it sounds heavy and, for a 5-year-old, it really was deeper than any Kindergartener should have to understand. The next day at school, when that mean little girl came up to me at recess, I was able to look her in the face and say - with confidence - that my mommy and daddy probably loved me MORE than her mommy and daddy loved her. Now, I know that probably wasn't true, but it sounded good as it came out of my mouth. Seeing her run away crying also instilled a sense of "gotcha." From that point on, I had the whole story to tell - just in case any OTHER kid wanted to tell me that my mommy and daddy didn't love me...to the contrary, they loved me more than words could describe.
Tuesday, October 6
Lesson #2 - Parenthood WILL Sneak Up On You
I learned, on a Wednesday, that my dreams of motherhood were coming to fruition FAR sooner than I had ever imagined possible. I will remember that day for eternity. The man and I had only known each other for about 6 weeks...he had just come back to town from a business trip...the following day was his birthday - the big 3-0. That night we were laying on the couch talking when he happened to mention the fact that my monthly mood swings weren't as pronounced that month (I was sure to warn him beforehand, since things tend to get a little violent if not dealt with carefully). I responded, with certainty, that he shouldn't worry and things don't always occur according to the same clock. He joked and asked if I was pregnant...we both laughed. Inside, I was sure that being a few days late wasn't anything to be alarmed about...this wasn't the first time it had happened.
The next day (if you're following, this is the man's birthday) at work was like any other. Get in...check email...write a to-do list...sit at desk and type away on keyboard. Around lunch I began to wonder if the man's thoughts had any merit. I decided to make a trip to the local drug store - just to be sure. A co-worker of mine agreed to make the short walk with me. While there I decided it was probably best to get a few different test brands, on the off chance that I didn't like the results I was given. The clerk rang up my 12 tests and off I went back to the office.
I am fully aware that false positives happen. My hope was that, by some strange force, the 10 tests I had taken would have all been false positives. Yes, you read correctly...10 tests. I took 1 test every 20 minutes for almost 3 hours straight. After number 10, I decided that the tests couldn't be wrong. Not wanting to give the man any unnecessary stress at work, I decided to call my best friend.
My best friend, whom I love dearly, is not the kind of person who deals well with crying. Granted, she is a girl, but she isn't your average chickie....which is why I love her so much! Ok, anyways, I call my girl - in tears of disbelief - to tell her my story. Of course she knew of the man and how great our relationship was going...but this was definitely a shock for her as well. After a few minutes on the phone, we got off because we were both at work and, in all seriousness, she just wasn't prepared for all the crying.
After work, I went to pick up a cake for the man's birthday. Then I brought the cake home and waited...and waited...and waited...and cried...and waited!! The man finally got home from work and saw that I'd been crying. Let me add a sidebar that - at this time - the man did share his home with a roommate. In any case, we had a minute to sit down and talk...and that was when I broke the news.
Once the shock, disbelief and thoughts of, "is this really happening to us," we were thrilled about impending parenthood. The thrill wore off, not more than a few weeks later, and the feelings of shock and disbelief came back with a vengeance!!! A parent (noun) is one who begets, gives birth to, or nurtures and raises a child. While the man and I talked about having children in the future, we didn't exactly mean before getting engaged. I always said I wanted children (the more Republicans on this Earth, the better), but right now wasn't exactly what I had in mind.
Let us, for a minute, forget the fact that the man and I weren't engaged. Sure we had talked about getting married, but that wasn't for at least another year - assuming that things worked out in the first place. Let us also forget the fact that, honestly, we had JUST met not long ago. How could we bring another life into this world without really knowing each other first?! Well, we were about to find out...and that is where the babe's story began.
The next day (if you're following, this is the man's birthday) at work was like any other. Get in...check email...write a to-do list...sit at desk and type away on keyboard. Around lunch I began to wonder if the man's thoughts had any merit. I decided to make a trip to the local drug store - just to be sure. A co-worker of mine agreed to make the short walk with me. While there I decided it was probably best to get a few different test brands, on the off chance that I didn't like the results I was given. The clerk rang up my 12 tests and off I went back to the office.
I am fully aware that false positives happen. My hope was that, by some strange force, the 10 tests I had taken would have all been false positives. Yes, you read correctly...10 tests. I took 1 test every 20 minutes for almost 3 hours straight. After number 10, I decided that the tests couldn't be wrong. Not wanting to give the man any unnecessary stress at work, I decided to call my best friend.
My best friend, whom I love dearly, is not the kind of person who deals well with crying. Granted, she is a girl, but she isn't your average chickie....which is why I love her so much! Ok, anyways, I call my girl - in tears of disbelief - to tell her my story. Of course she knew of the man and how great our relationship was going...but this was definitely a shock for her as well. After a few minutes on the phone, we got off because we were both at work and, in all seriousness, she just wasn't prepared for all the crying.
After work, I went to pick up a cake for the man's birthday. Then I brought the cake home and waited...and waited...and waited...and cried...and waited!! The man finally got home from work and saw that I'd been crying. Let me add a sidebar that - at this time - the man did share his home with a roommate. In any case, we had a minute to sit down and talk...and that was when I broke the news.
Once the shock, disbelief and thoughts of, "is this really happening to us," we were thrilled about impending parenthood. The thrill wore off, not more than a few weeks later, and the feelings of shock and disbelief came back with a vengeance!!! A parent (noun) is one who begets, gives birth to, or nurtures and raises a child. While the man and I talked about having children in the future, we didn't exactly mean before getting engaged. I always said I wanted children (the more Republicans on this Earth, the better), but right now wasn't exactly what I had in mind.
Let us, for a minute, forget the fact that the man and I weren't engaged. Sure we had talked about getting married, but that wasn't for at least another year - assuming that things worked out in the first place. Let us also forget the fact that, honestly, we had JUST met not long ago. How could we bring another life into this world without really knowing each other first?! Well, we were about to find out...and that is where the babe's story began.
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