Younger daughter, Jessica, gave me the most wonderful Christmas gift.  It is a subscription to Story Worth.  I write stories this year and they create a book at the end of the year.  I am so very excited.  I may be inspired to write more because of this.

This week’s subject is “How did you figure out how to be a parent?”  I have to admit, first of all, that I never intended on becoming a parent.  I am the youngest of three children and so was never around babies or small children.  I never babysat any children, and I hated being around my friend’s small siblings.

When I found out that I was pregnant I bought a child care book by Dr. Spock.  I read it and figured out a few things from the good doctor.  I also talked to my mother about being a parent and she gave me useful advice.  I called her frequently when I had questions.  Why is the baby drooling so much?  Why does she always get hungry when it is my time to sit down and eat?  When will she start to talk? And walk?

At my first six week check up with Addi the pediatrician lifted her arm and there was this big booger under her arm.  He looked at me and said, “She won’t break.”  I was so embarrassed.  She got a good washing at the next bath time.

I think also that instincts had kicked in.  When you have grown this little human being inside you for nine months there is just something internally that tells you when something is wrong.  You want to protect them, keep them clean and from harm.  The miracle that came from the love between two people is hard to resist.

Addi was a pretty easy baby.  She was so pleasant and fun to be around.  She hardly ever cried but if she did she passed out. (Talk about scary!)  Jess on the other hand, was a handful.  She whined and cried constantly.  She had this horrible habit of flinging herself backwards and clunking her head on the floor.  We called her Clunkhead for a while.

Kahlil Gibran wrote about children, “Your children are not your children.  They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, and though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.  You may give them your love but not your thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.”  He also wrote “You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.”  I guess this was my inspiration of becoming a parent.

I feel that you just rent children long enough to housebreak them and then send them on their way, hopefully to become responsible adults who will contribute to society.

I had another inspiration about parenting from a co-worker.  Her teenage son was constantly complaining.  She said she told him one day, “If you don’t like it here, move out.  Get a job.  Have your own house where you can do what you want to do.”

I just loved this.  The children were just living in MY house and abiding by MY rules.  And if they didn’t like it, they could just move.

Once when we were driving to my mother’s house the girls kept arguing and being grouchy.  The hubster stopped the car, went around and opened the door and told them to, “Get out.”  He was sick of their moaning and told them so.  They cried so hard but he gave them a good scare and they were much more pleasant after that.

I had this system of warning them if they were bothering my nerves.  I would count to three. They usually quieted down on two.  Addi once asked me what would happen if I got to three.  I said I’d have to take them to the orphanage.

Later on in that year, we had purchased half a beef from my uncle.  We purchased a side every fall.  We had accumulated quite a bit of beef liver and I decided to donate it to a local orphanage. When I parked the car and went to get the liver to take in, the girls asked me where we were.  I answered innocently, “This is the orphanage.”

They started crying and screaming, “No, mommy.  We’ll be good.  Don’t take us to the orphanage.”  I had to laugh, and I had to hide my laughter.  I gave them both hugs and kisses and said I was donating the liver to the orphanage, not taking them to the place.  That was a meaningful lesson in parenting.  Watch what you say.

I guess what I mean to say about parenting is that I never really learned how to be a parent.  I just made it up as I went along.  I probably wasn’t the nicest mother at times.  I suffered from PMS from Hell once a month, and I’m sure I was a bitch to live with.  On the other hand, I did read to my children and tuck them into bed.  I tried to make sure that they had what they needed but tried not to overdo the nurturing.

My nickname from my children is Smother.  So, I guess I probably overdid the loving thing.  But I think they still like me.  And I feel they both have become responsible adults and are contributing to society.

Peace be with you.