Why it’s Important to Always Have AN Answer for Your Kids
No matter how old you are, there is nothing more comforting than a scent that reminds you of your mother. Today was another wonderful, terrifying, marvelous, generally intense and exhausting day with my own two young children. I’m ending it with a “spot of tea,” a bath, and an ever-increasingly respectful nod to my own mother…
It’s the tea that reminds me of her. Mom sent it to me and it smells just like one of the layers of “her” scent. It’s Mount of Olives brand “soothing chamomile” tea. They’ve fancied it up a bit with licorice, a hint of pomegranate and such but essentially it’s a lovely, calming chamomile. I paired it with frothed milk and sugar and plan to enjoy while bathing.
I am running the bath now to give myself a deadline for writing this entry since I never seem to do anything without a deadline. { Enter the annoying self deprecation that runs through my head all day. I shall name her and attempt to ban her. I shall call her, “Depracy” and she shall be like leprosy to me… Ok, sorry ~ the weird personification, poetry etc starts happening in my brain at this time of night. Back to the point… And I did have one. I won’t name her or you shall stop reading… }
ANYWAY ~ Mom smells like chamomile. I love mom and now I love chamomile. And, I think I miss mom. She lives far away in Oklahoma so that she can be near her parents. I’m happy for her and for them that they are able to spend time together. I understand why she needs to be there right now. At least the grown up part of my brain does. The kid in me is sad that she is not here. I’m VERY in touch with my inner child these days since I spend all day { and sometimes all night } with my own children!
I wish mom was here doing my laundry in that awesome way that she does laundry, actually sorting by color, treating all the stains, using brightner etc. She could also be watching my kids so that I don’t have to… Did I write that? What I MEANT to say is so that she and I could hang out together with the kids more. That is actually what I wish. Although when she does come to visit it is so cool to see them through her eyes. I cherish her input whereas I might ignore it or even despise it if she were here all the time. Sometimes distance is like height, giving us perspective, wisdom and the like.
And wisdom is welcome whenever and wherever it appears. My eldest son, “Boufdie” who is four and quite the man about town these days, has a barber now. We visited him today to get a trim up. I sat there watching and letting my mind go on one of it’s road trips. We made a pit stop at a little town called “Why am I paying to get my son’s hair cut when I’m dying my own hair out of a box?” Next I visited a place called “And I cut my hair myself these days with varying results.” I sped by “I miss that awesome stylist in the City who called me ‘darling’ and served me wine while coloring, cutting and styling me.” I finally “parked my carr” (my maiden name was Carr) on a mental image of my mom braiding my hair tightly into two braids on either side of my face.
She would spray my hair with Johnson’s brand “No More Tears” or “No More Tangles.” I can’t remember the name exactly but it was a miracle product and had it’s own distinctive scent. If I recall correctly it was a bit like a sweeter version of rainwater’s fresh smell. Then, she’d put a ponytail holder at the top of each braid, plait the mid-section and secure each end with another ponytail holder. It was a very snug arrangement and I used to debate with her vehemently about the need for these braids. However, as she knew, it would keep my ultra-fine platinum blonde hair out of trouble and, when she took the braids out it would produce a shimmering cascade of blonde waves that were amazingly devoid of frizz thanks to aforementioned product ~ my first experience with the miracles that hair potions can produce! I now swear by anything John Freida creates and especially his anti-frizz serum, { classic formula} although he could lay off the excessive packaging as could the vast majority of those who are attempting to appeal to the American consumer.
Mom, mom ~ back to mom and away from the canned rants. Oh no, I was rambling about the barber shop. So, I was sitting there trying to hold 18 and a half pound “Schmood” who is almost 6 months old already { WHAT ? } and is hard core teething. { He already has 2 adorable little pearls to show for our agony! } I did the aforementioned mental road trip thingy and then I read a really interesting article in today’s Red Eye which compared fight styles, likening people’s conflict approaches to animals. I’m a Golden Retriever who occasionally employs cobra tactics but is striving to be an eagle…
The barber and I made occasional small talk but for the most part he stayed focused on my kid ~ which I suppose is good since scissors were involved. Of course, since I have thousands of “unused” words per day I kept attempting to engage him in conversation. Eventually I got him to talk to me and when he did, he said something really cool. I said something along the lines of “It’s so fun to talk with the kids all day but sometimes they wear me out because they think so differently from adults and they always want an answer, even on the most mundane and/or strange things. At the end of the day, sometimes I just have to say, Mommy doesn’t know!” He said simply, “Oh, you can’t do that. Mommy has to know. Mommy always needs to provide an answer.”
How amazing. How clear and concise! I don’t have to have “the best answer.” I just have to have “an answer!!!” This is so liberating because, as my husband and I discuss all the time, parenthood does equal pressure!
First, you must be “on” 24/7 to ensure that your child doesn’t physically die. I’ve talked with other mothers who tell me that they feel such anxiety about this responsibility and I feel it myself often too! I attribute it to the crying. Waking up 2 or 3 times a night to someone crying would give anyone nightmares! Then, when you’ve heard the crying for a large portion of the day too, it can really get to you!
For any individuals who suspect they or a friend/partner/lover are experiencing post partum or related issues, please do check out resources for parental anxiety and get whatever assistance is needed. I don’t think I’ve experienced the clinical definition of post partum or anything but there have certainly been days I’ve had to resist the urge to ask one of the elderly ladies at the grocery store who makes googley eyes at me when I’m with the kids to take them both ~ at least long enough for me to get a nap, go potty and brush my teeth!
That’s why we do have family and friends around to help! And, when family and friends aren’t as plentiful as we’d like, we can always pay for a little help. Sometimes a park district program or babysitter with good references is well worth the cash! Especially when we can come back to our kids refreshed and ready to answer those million questions again. Because that’s the other part of the parenting “job.” Really the most important part ~ We are building their brains and their souls! Those, huge, intricate, inter ~ laced super ~ computers that will power them, inspire them and sometimes haunt them with memories, ideas, visions and goals for the rest of their lives.
We have to have “an answer” for our kids. If we don’t, their super~computer brains and souls will only retrieve files that say, “I don’t know!” So, the answers we give should be the best one we can provide at the time. And sometimes, AN answer is as good as it gets!
First thing in the morning my kids get a lot of “yes, no” answers. After the coffee infusion begins they generally get a lot more words than they ever wanted. At the end of the day I fear that I begin to resemble the dreaded icon of “Mommy Dearest” with a “BECAUSE I SAID SO” type of response. Whenever I can though, I try to make my answers appropriate to the tone in which the child asked the question ~ ie, a straightforward question gets a straightforward answer, a silly question gets a whimsical answer, etc. Sometimes I do mix it up though just to keep ‘em guessing.
Sometimes, an enraged question that teeters on the brink of a temper-tantrum will get a very silly response in order to circumvent said temper tantrum. Bottom line is, as parents, we know our kids best and know what they need to hear at the time. We need to set aside the many fears and / or distractions that may plague US and consider what our children are asking and why. Our answers are how they learn. They will choose then to sculpt themselves into the people they want to be. But we get to help form them. And, scary as that is, it’s also pretty bleeping cool too!!!!
Speaking of bleeping, I just spilled my tea! I’ve been typing this in the dark of my son’s nursery so I’ll be the first to hear his screams and attempt to mute them before they wake the other kid, and I just spilled this stupid tea I’ve been raving about! Knocked it over while reaching for it! GRH! I am thinking words that my mom never said… I wonder if she thought them..?
On the bright side, the carpet in the nursery now smells like mom too! But on the bad side, it is now damp and annoying to sit on. AND THAT REMINDS ME THAT THE TUB IS STILL FILLING! ARGH!
CB ;-[
