The Myth of the Perfect Child

"But the grass is greener over there!!"  My wonderfully imperfect child can reject a vegetable from a mile away, spot the sunrise from hours away, and has been known to collapse on the floor because she couldn't have another cracker.

I have many friends who are parents and most of them I would consider to be good parents.  Some of them are incredible parents whom I admire and want to emulate.  But most of them frequently feel like they aren’t doing a very good job.  Some days it seems like things are going well, other days they are plagued by doubt, and some days they are convinced they could win the World's Worst Parent award.  Why is it that so many good parents feel like they are failing?  I have been thinking lately about this question and want to share a few of my speculations.  Since my speculations are more numerous than my time, I think this will turn into a mini-series.  Besides, “mini-series” makes it sound like I really know what I’m talking about. :)

1. The Myth of the Perfect Child

I have a friend whose baby was sleeping through the night at 3 months old.  At 7pm she happily laid down in her bed and slept peacefully until 7am, then entertained herself quietly for another hour before alerting her mother with happy cooing.  At 6 months old this baby sat peacefully on her own, playing with toys for half an hour.  At 10 months this baby never threw food on the floor.  At 15 months she was speaking in full sentences, most of which started with the word "please."  At 18 months she self potty trained.  At 24 months she never threw tantrums and happily reached for another carrot stick, no dressing needed.  At 3 years old she was not only dressing herself, she was also doing her own laundry and picking out color-coordinated outfits.

Do you know someone like this?  Actually, me neither.  For one thing there's no way we would still be friends.  For another thing that child doesn't exist.  Our vision of the perfect child is just a compilation of all the enviable traits of a dozen children we've heard of and then dangerously expect our child to be.  But one thing we forget is that the child who was indeed a terrific sleeper had a tremendous difficulties with nursing.  That independent player is 18 months and barely talking at all.  The toddler who loves carrot sticks and brocolli won't potty train until 4.  The 3 year old did do her own laundry...flooding the washer and staining all her clothes in the process.

When I hear people brag about their child's enviable traits (or bemoan their less enviable ones), I have to think, "What is our idea of the perfect child?"  It seems to me that the perfect child is one who interferes with our life as little as possible.  He sleeps so much we hardly see him in between naps!  He plays so well on his own we don't even have to interact with him!  I often think of how much I could accomplish if Juliana didn't want to be with me all the time.  There are certainly advantages to encouraging age-appropriate independence, but is a "perfect child" really one who doesn't need her parents?

The perfect child is actually a miniature adult.  Sure, you get to dress her in cute clothes and she says funny things, but she thinks and acts like an adult.  My friends (and I) often express frustration about our children's irrational behavior.  If you were happy to eat it yesterday why won't you touch it today?  If you stick your finger in there again, of course it's going to get pinched - don't you remember the last time?  We expect our children to think the same way as fully rational adults do (forgetting how many times we also do dumb things over and over again when we should know better).

The perfect child also seems to be rather lacking in the personality and emotion. He is compliant and passive, happily agreeing to whatever we suggest.  She has no opinion (or better yet, she has our opinion) about what to eat and what to wear.  She doesn't get upset when things don't go her way (perhaps because she's so  rational).  Instead she calmly accepts life and lets it wash over her.

Sometimes I'm not sure if we've actually gotten over the idea that "children should be seen and not heard."  A good child is still considered one who looks nice but doesn't mess up our lives to much.

When our children do act like children, when they have big needs or a large personality, we start to wonder what is wrong with them -- Or perhaps more so, what is wrong with us that we can't control them.  Everyone else's baby is sleeping through the night.  Nobody else's child is screaming in the middle of the supermarket.

As parents we have a responsibility to help our children to behave appropriately, handle their emotions, and do things they don’t want to.  Some of their actions do reflect on our parenting.  But no matter how good of parents we are, we will never have a perfect child.  It is unfair to expect it from them or from ourselves.  And honestly, if we did have the perfect child, everyone would probably hate us.  Is that really what we want?  Enjoy your friends (who secretly feel relieved that your child also throws tantrums).  Enjoy your imperfect child.

Getting Past the "One True Way" of Parenting

There are a lot of things that bothered me about the now infamous Time's breastfeeding cover. It wasn't the woman nursing her three year old. It was the sensationalism, the obvious attempt to get a good rise for the sake of money making. It was the stupid caption, “Are you mom enough?” - what does that even mean anyway? It was all the ensuing comments – a lot of judgment on every side, a lot of ignorance, and a general negativity toward mothers of all types. Somehow public controversy really brings out the stupid in people.

I didn't read the actual Times article (you have to pay for it), but there were about 5000 articles, blogs, and random, unrelated people talking about the article (for free), so I read some of those. Some I appreciated and some that made me angry, but today I read a related article that I really, really like.

“Parenting websites, Facebook pages and forums are consistently bogged down with people debating the right and wrong way to parent...sometimes there's even a bit of smugness or nastiness, as AP parents take the moral high ground over bottle feeding cot users, who in turn accuse the AP'ers of being enslaved to their kids.

If we try to cut through all this, what really matters? If we look at what we as parents are actually trying to achieve - healthy, happy adults...what is really absolutely crucial to healthy child development, is not 'Attachment Parenting', but 'Responsive Parenting.'” (click here to read the rest - it's good!)

I consider myself to practice “moderate attachment parenting.” This means that most hardcore Attachment Parenting people wouldn't consider me AP at all, while many people who make more conventional parenting choices think I'm a little “out there.” It's a wonderful place of being too weird and not weird enough.

To give you some examples, I had a natural birth with a midwife in a hospital. I am still nursing Juliana at 21 months, but only twice a day. Juliana slept in our bed part-time for most of the first year, but now we are all happy with her in her own room. We felt strongly about not leaving Juliana alone to “cry it out” even though she woke up 3-39843x a night the entire first year. When we were once again up with her for hours every night at 18 months though, we decided it was time to let her cry (which by that point she did surprisingly little of). We have four different types of slings and baby carriers but in recent months I almost always use a stroller. We didn't put Juliana on a schedule as a baby, but she gradually developed a pretty consistent routine, and we put her to bed whether she thinks it's time or not. We lean toward “gentle discipline” principles and don't plan to spank (which is not the same as no discipline).

While I have made each of those decisions because I think they are important and work best for our family, I don't think everyone should do things the same way as me. Okay, sometimes I do, but I really try not to! There are some parenting decisions that I honestly think are terrible and potentially harmful, but most don't fall into that category.

It's easy to obsess about the specifics and say, “you MUST do things THIS WAY to be a good parent.” Some AP people say you must sleep with your baby, only wear your baby in a sling, breastfeed for years, etc., etc. or you are neglecting your children. Some popular parenting philosophies say you must put your baby on a schedule from birth, they must learn to sleep on their own, they must be spanked, etc., etc., or you will ruin them for life.

These decisions are important, but when it comes down to it, the most important thing is loving responsiveness to your child. Knowing your child's personality and developmental level and individual challenges and abilities. Parenting should be thoughtful – and we should spend a lot more time examining our own parenting instead of others'. There are good parents and bad parents represented in every style of parenting, and most people I know really are good parents and really care about their children.

I want to be less judgmental. I want to remember that each person's situation and children are different, and I don't know the specifics of why they make the choices they do. I want to stick to my convictions about what is best for Juliana and our situation while also being flexible and knowing I might change my mind. I want to be tuned in to Juliana, not expecting her to be like other people's children or like a small adult. I want to be confident in my parenting, not trying to measure myself with others. I also want to be humble and learn from people who have a lot more experience than I do. And mostly, I want to be loving.

'While children need food, sanitation and access to health services to survive and develop optimally, a warm and affectionate relationship with an adult caregiver who is responsive to the child’s needs is equally important' and that responsiveness is 'parenting that is prompt, contingent on the child’s behaviour and appropriate to a child’s needs and developmental state.' - World Health Organization

Inconvenient

A few weeks ago I saw this saying on Pinterest (rolls eyes at self):

It keeps coming back to mind because it is something that bothers me about a lot of current parenting philosophies. Philosophies based keeping babies and children from “getting in the way” of your life as much as possible. I could go a little rant about that, but I won't at the moment.

But I am most often reminded of this saying when I am feeling so inconvenienced by Juliana. Despite my lofty ideals, it's easy to see her as an inconvenience. When she is having a really clingy day and I have so many things to get done. When she collapses into a fit on the floor because I won't let her draw in books with markers. When she pulls out every single one of her toys and scatters them all over the house. When she is dead-set on walking the opposite direction of wherever we need to go. When I just want to check my email without her crawling up and trying to push all the buttons. When is quietly playing by herself but the moment I sit down to study she suddenly feels a pressing need to sit in my lap, on top of my book.

I want her to learn boundaries and that she can't do everything she wants. I don't want to give in to her tantrums. I want to listen to her and acknowledge her feelings. I want to teach her to be helpful without expecting her to be a little adult. I want to give her the attention that she needs while gently reminding her the world doesn't completely revolve around her.

But at many of these inconvenient times, I'm not thinking about those goals – I'm just thinking about how much I could accomplish if a small person wasn't singlehandedly working to destroy my efforts. I want her to be one of those kids people talk about who spend an hour playing in their room. I wish I had taught her to not need me so much. I wish I ruled with an iron fist. Because it would really make things easier, right this moment.

Then I step back and remember, I am raising a human being. Juliana is a small person, but she has big (very big) feelings that she hasn't yet figured out what to do with. Sometimes when I take away her precious marker, she truly feels that the world has turned against her. How can I respond to show that her feelings matter (even if she's still not getting the marker)? She watches everything I do and wants to be like me. That's why she wants to play with my computer and why she sits in the kitchen making a big mess while I'm cooking. Before I know it she'll be a teenager and want to be anything I'm not – and I'll really wish she still wanted to be with me all the time! Sometimes she seems so clingy, but she's still so very young. She's hardly gotten finished with being a baby. I wish she would go play on her own more, but I can't just expect her to turn into an introvert (something she is definitely not!).

It's easy to feel like I'm not accomplishing much in parenting since “play ring-around-the-rosy 10 times” or “pick up 35 crayons off the floor” doesn't usually make my to-do list, but in the end it will be more important than those things on the list. Right now, I have the opportunity to show Juliana that her feelings are legitimate, that her needs matter, that she is valuable.

It may not seem like much, but Juliana is learning patience and perseverance by dropping clothespins through a small hole, over and over again. She is learning responsibility and helpfulness by handing clothes to mama to put on the line or picking up three books to put on the shelf. When she's outside, she's observing the world and learning how to interact with others and how to speak Chinese. She's learning to love music and making a mess with 'art' and 'science.' She's learning that sometimes when you're really mad you still don't get your way, but sometimes when you're having a really bad day it's okay to bend the rules a bit.

And I am learning that it's okay to let go of some of my expectations, that “accomplishment” isn't what makes us important, successful, or fulfilled. I am learning that if the house stays too clean it probably means we aren't having much fun. I am learning patience by picking up the same crayons and blocks every day and by letting Juliana “help mama” even when it takes twice as long. I am learning that sometimes even when it would be so much easier, you can't let your child get what they are screaming for. I am learning that sometimes when you're having a really bad day it's okay to put on a cartoon so everyone can take a break.

If parenthood and China have taught me anything, it's that the best lessons are usually very inconvenient.  If I embrace the inconvenience rather than resisting it, I'll probably discover the "inconvenient" is what's important after all.