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The Perfect Parent

"Parenting without a sense of humor is like being an accountant who sucks at math." Amber Dusick

By Maria CalderoniPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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The Perfect Parent
Photo by Raul Angel on Unsplash

I was the perfect parent. Very few can honestly claim this achievement but let me assure you, I held this coveted title right up to the day the nurse placed our first precious baby boy into my increasingly nervous arms. All the untoward advice I had glibly and confidently shared with my inexperienced friends who had preceded us in the journey of parenthood passed rapidly through my labor exhausted mind. As my face grew red at my sudden realization of my audacity, I knew, somehow I just knew it would all come back to haunt me, and I would pay mercilessly for being such an arrogant know it all.

* * * * *

And pay I did. It is my belief that the universe sits back and laughs as the prideful are brought to their very knees. Seven children and much joy, life and hardship later, I have had my fair share of crow-eating based on the advice I offered prior to my actual advent into parenting. If you are a parent already, I am sure you can laugh with me. If not, well feel free to laugh and judge. I am happy to award you with that coveted, “Perfect Parent Award” too.

* * * * *

My knowingness began failing me before the baby was even born. Excited as any new set of parents could be, we read and researched everything I could get my hands on. I knew we would be "natural" parents, no drugs for birth, breastfeed for a year, healthy food for mom and baby. I quit drinking Pepsi and bought my first pair of Birkenstocks. I had found my place in the world as a crunchy mama. We took a class on natural birthing techniques and planned a beautiful gentle homebirth. The instructors moved away during the class but that was fine, all we missed were the classes on interventions and cesareans and we wouldn’t be needing any of those………

By Gabriel Tovar on Unsplash

Three days of labor and a cesarean later, I was a tired though slightly humbled mama with a brand new baby in my arms. NOW WHAT? Suddenly everything I had read flew out the window and I was the same as all the other new mothers, full of hormones, and learning along with my very tiny baby.

By Amit Gaur on Unsplash

We did get through those early days and as the kids began to grow, becoming their own individual personalities, I had increasing opportunities for growth and humility.

* * * * *

I fondly remember the day I was sitting at the kitchen table in early March. The weather was just beginning to warm up and I was offering peer support to a younger mom with a new baby. “You are doing such a good job,” I assured her, “Your baby is so lucky to have you as a mom. You will get through this difficulty! And then there will be another. But you will keep figuring it out…. That‘s how this works. We grow and learn with our babies.” I remember the feeling of confidence and security that washed over me. I loved being a mom, and I thoroughly enjoyed being a mentor to younger moms. I sighed contentedly. And then jumped up quickly from the table realizing my 2 and 5 year old had been awfully quiet for quite some time….

By Padma Hazarika on Unsplash

I checked through the house quickly and they were nowhere to be seen. Peeking my head out the door into the carport area I gasped. “What are you two doing?” I looked out to the busy road to make sure no one was observing my buck naked children parading around the driveway with a garden hose and a bar of soap! “We are taking showers!” they announced very matter-of-factly.

“Get inside right now!” I ordered.

“It’s ok mommy, no one saw us except the mail lady!”

"She waved at us," smiled my happy 2 year old.

* * * * *

Not long after the shower incident, we went out for lunch with another family after church. There were 4 adults and a bunch of kids, including the other family’s baby boy. We all crammed into a large booth and were getting ready to order. The kids were goofing around and the adults were chatting when the other mom nonchalantly pulled a bottle out of her purse to feed her baby. By this time, I had matured enough to be comfortable with whatever feeding method another family chose, but unfortunately, I had been pretty passionate in my descriptions about why we chose breastfeeding at our house. I was also a La Leche League Leader and my children had been thoroughly indoctrinated in the benefits of breastfeeding.

As the mom began to feed her baby I’m sure she felt it before she even saw the death-stare bestowed upon her by my very precocious 5 year old. “You look offended that I am offering my baby a bottle,” she began, “but I bet you didn’t think about the fact that I might be giving him breastmilk in a bottle.” My son visibly relaxed and so did I. Whew! Nice save! But then she continued, “But you're right, It’s not breastmilk, It’s formula!” She then went on to explain to my FIVE year old that some moms have trouble breastfeeding and some just choose formula and that was a fine choice too. I made a mental note that we needed to work on teaching our kids respect for other people’s choices even if we still wanted to be enthusiastic about our own.

* * * * *

Sadly this was a long work in progress and the next huge guffaw that comes to mind was the day my son and his friend were playing in the yard. These two were best friends and they did everything together. So, it didn’t strike me as too weird when they ran inside one day and both disappeared into the bathroom. Not two minutes later, the neighbor boy came running out of our bathroom sobbing. He made a beeline for the door and ran all the way home. I looked at my kid, “What happened? Why is he crying?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess he was upset when I told him his parents cut part of his penis off when he was born!”

“WHAT?! And why on earth would you tell him that?”

“Well he noticed that our penises were different and asked me why?”

That was an awkward conversation to have with the neighbor, let me tell you!

By Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Then there was the season where my son was a velociraptor. No, he wasn’t pretending to be his favorite dinosaur. He embodied this creature. It was either find a sitter and leave him home or endure the hissing and snarling at every kind grandma and grandpa in the grocery store when they simply commented on my cute kids. “How are you doing today, young fellow?”

“HISSSSSSS” with body hunched into a forward crawl stance, hands clenched into the shape of a claw pawing the air towards the kindly soul, “GRRRRRRRRRR,” came the deep throaty growl.

“Oh he’s a Velociraptor today,” I’d say cheerily over my shoulder as I deftly and rapidly steered this child and my shopping cart quickly to another aisle.

* * * * *

Teaching and mentoring were two activities that brought me great fulfillment. I taught Bradley Natural Childbirth classes; often in our home. There was a period of time, ok it was almost a year, that my then five year old daughter was so proud of her bowel movement masterpieces. I could never figure out how this started but she would inevitably disappear into the bathroom while I was teaching a room full of newly expectant parents. These parents were still in the “perfect parent” phase and I was always a bit nervous as to what antics my kids would pull, jeopardizing my credibility with the class. One Saturday afternoon it happened. The parents were all spread throughout my living room with the mom’s laying down relaxing quietly while their coaches led them in a guided relaxation technique, when from the bathroom we hear this loud holler,

“MOMMY, I have a PraPrise for YOU!”

“Ok honey,” I whispered just outside the bathroom door, trying to shush her “I’ll come see it later, after my class.”

“NO! Come SEE it NOW!”

By Boudewijn Huysmans on Unsplash

* * * * *

One time we were staying with friends. They were an older very conservative couple whose children were all grown and gone. As we were preparing to leave, they offered us several household goods for our new apartment, “Would you like this pot?” The woman asked pointing to a large cooking pot with a lid, “ Joking, my husband pointed at the pot and said, “We don’t do pots.” My very serious 4 year old promptly corrected him, “Daddy’s just kidding, We do, do Pot!”

That took a bit of explaining.

* * * * *

There have been multiple events where I have had to carry a screaming child into or out of a situation like the zoo with the terrifying giraffes which you can read about here. Or the child who was terrified of fireworks, screaming “No! No! Not the PINK BOMBS! Don’t make me see the pink bombs!”

By Zuza Gałczyńska on Unsplash

* * * * *

Holidays seemed to be a great source of parental embarrassment as well. My husband and I would often debate the merits of religious Christmas carols vs. the non-religious or secular Christmas music. Well one day, my then 5 year old yelled completely exasperated with the whole thing, “Can’t we just listen to SEXUAL music for once?” This is the same child that insisted to all her friends that she was having "strippers" at her birthday party. Turns out she meant streamers the whole time. Oh dear.

By Christina Hernández on Unsplash

* * * * *

To recount all the moments of embarrassment, the diaper blowouts, the public temper tantrums, the precocious lectures of a young child to friends and strangers alike, and so many more moments that make me blush, would take a whole book.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the nearly 3 decades since I first lost the title of "Perfect Parent" I have grown instead to become the parent that my kids have needed me to be. I have learned to embrace each of their individual personalities and love them, not in spite of their idiosyncrasies but truly because of them. I have learned to respect them for who they are and what they think. I have learned to not be embarrassed (well maybe to hide it better) when my kid didn’t fit in with a societal norm.

My greatest accomplishment on this parenting journey has been in realizing that I needed just as much raising as my kids did. I didn’t know it all. Not even close. And I still don’t. I am a work in progress with something new to learn every single day and so are they. I am so thankful that if I did nothing else right, I have learned to foster an environment of love and respect where we might disagree vehemently but we are safe to do that knowing the relationships are secure regardless.

Thank you for the generosity of your time. It is my hope that as you read my musings and reminiscences, you found hope, encouragement and camaraderie in the journey.

If you enjoyed these humorous, though embarrassing stories here are a few more you might like:

The Terrifying Giraffes at the Henry Doorly Zoo

Iron Buns (Not to be confused with Buns of Steel)

How to Pull Over a Police Officer

The Oblivious Young Husband

The Mysterious Button

How to (NOT) Host Your Baby's First Birthday Party or Smoked CHerry Cake for Everyone

How Not to Ride a City Bus

The Time My Google Assistant Tried to Get Me the Wrong Date

parents
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About the Creator

Maria Calderoni

Born a lover of stories. I love to read, write and tell them. Tales of inspiration, resilience and struggle.

A life long learner, I enjoy nothing more than sharing interesting and useful things I have learned so far.

Please join me.

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