Day 4 - Parenting 101

I will probably write a lot about parenting over the next year.  After all, I know everything.  I mean, once you have raised one, the rest are all the same, right?  Wrong.

I love listening to people tell me how wonderful my children are . . . and then follow that right up with what I'm doing wrong.  If my kids are that wonderful, then, do you really need to comment?  Unfortunately, they don't, but they do.  I'm quite confident that my parents have forgotten how much you don't know and how much you do wrong as a parent.  Your job as a grandparent, aunt, godparent, friend, or whatever, is to remind children the good in their lives.  Dwelling on the negatives comes naturally, they don't need your help; in fact, most of the time they don't even believe half of the things they are complaining about until they tell a loved one and the loved one validates it.  Don't do it.  That's not your role.  Guidance is for the parents.  You don't even get a vote!

I'm not shooting for 100% right; just more right than wrong would be great (for those of you non-math people, that's 51%).  This means for 100 decisions as a parent that I make, 49 will be WRONG.  I'm a-ok with that.  Because what works for one child, doesn't necessarily work for the next.  And what has worked for 4, might not work for the fifth.  Trial and error, sort of.  With some experience and time, I might get that down to 47 or 48 . . .

But, it's even more than that, because, did I mention that kids (and especially teenagers) are moody?  Heck, for that matter, 38 year olds are moody.  Women are moody, Men are moody.  All of these things are factors that weigh in for every child, and for every mood and for every decision and for every day.

Raising children is probably the single most important thing I will do in my lifetime.  I treat it as such. I'm proud of my children, and they know that when I  say that I am proud of them, it means something, because complements don't come easy from me.  Their mother, well, she's a lot easier.  That's just how it works.  Right, wrong, heck I don't know.  I'm not even going to worry about it.

Let me summarize.  If you are a parent, want to be a parent, were a parent, or don't ever want to be a parent and you are about to start a sentence to another parent with any of the following:

• I don't mean to interfere, but . . . 
• I'm concerned about . . . 
• Have you tried . . .
• I've read that . . . 
• I know that you are trying, but . . .

DON'T.  The only exception to this rule is if I specifically ask you for your advice on a specific issue, and then, DON'T (I don't really mean it; I'm just wanting someone to hear my complaint and then tell me how great my kids are anyway).

Parenting, though the most important job I'll ever have . . . it doesn't pay well.

In other words, the only thing a parent needs to hear from you about their parenting is how truly inspiring their work is.