What is being a good parent? It's funny and I am sure you have heard this before, that you need a license to drive, you need to be 21 to drink, but you need nothing to become a parent. You need to go to school for years to be a doctor or a lawyer, but being a parent requires no classes, no schooling. It's ironic that my own father went to school for his undergrad and law degree at one of the top Universities in the country, Notre Dame. He is one of the smartest people I know, a human Google, yet he doesn't talk to any of his five children. I hold no grudge, I forgive him every day for not speaking to my sisters, brother and I, I have to, but I still question his mindset.
Doctors are limited in the number of hours they can work, and rightfully so. After all, who would want someone who has been working three days straight to do their surgery? However mothers and fathers may go days, weeks without proper sleep and yet they are expected to function day in and day out, be the best parent they can be. They are expected to make life changing decisions, choices, all under the veil of exhaustion.
I had my first four children in a matter of five years. My first, Savannah turned five on May 5th, on July 30th I gave birth to my fourth child. A month after Saxton was born I turned 27. I celebrated that day by cleaning my tile floor with my sister Kathleen. She questioned my choice do so, I told her that it was a gift that she was there to help. My ex was at a work retreat making choices that would continue to set the stage for the demise of our relationship, I was home scrubbing grout. I was home being a parent to a newborn, one year old, three year old and five year old. I was exhausted, clueless as to what was happening to me. I hadn't had my time off, my breaks that would allow me the clarity to see what was going on right in front of my eyes.
My ex did not get up with our four children. I did. This was my choice. My choice to nurse my babies and wake up with them every two to three hours for months, years. No one made me do this. No one gave me a test to see if I could hack nursing all of my babies for a year or more. I chose this. I know women who pump and have their husbands feed their babies bottles. I didn't know this was an option, I didn't learn this option in my "learn-as-you-go parenting University."
Right now my ex and I are faced with a huge parenting choice. He was "laid off" a few months ago. He has been interviewing all over the country and has traveled to and looked at houses all over. The kids have been privy to this and have wondered where they are moving. Are they moving to NC, SD, Iowa, Wisconsin? Are they moving to Seattle because dad told them that he was interviewing there? They hoped they were moving there. My sister used the analogy of a man dating several different women and saying that they all could be mommy, you don't bring home or promise just anyone, you promise the prospect that is real. Their mommy does live in the Seattle area, their two little sisters, of course they want to move there. He would have learned that in parenting class, but he didn't.
I would have learned that you need to pick your partner well. I didn't. Neither did my mom. This is tough medicine. The questions that come out of my babies mouth are tough. Why, when, how, what happened? Most of these questions are not four their ears, their souls. Finding out that happily ever after might really just be a fairy tale is not an option for a nine year old. A roof over your head is supposed to be a castle, not a shelter. So I continue to try and answer questions fairly, appropriately, and only let them know what they can handle.
Am I perfect? Absolutely not. Why did I choose to move here? Why did I get divorced? I chose to get divorced because I was not living the vows that I stood in front of God and repeated. Love was not patient, kind in our house. Our house became scary and unhealthy. My life was no fairy tale and not a story that I wanted my girls to read and repeat. No way. I read that story already. I watched my mom struggle and my dad dissolve in front of my eyes. I was not going to continue that story with my own children. No way!
Have you heard of the flight or fight response? That is where I was at. I could have chosen to stay and fight, or continued to fight would be be accurate or I could choose to flee and attempt to bring peace to all of our lives. That is what I chose. It is amazing. No adult has since gotten in my face and yelled at me. No screaming or shouting in our house. I remember the silence that fell over the apartment that the girls and I lived in when we first moved here. Some of it was a sad silence because we were missing Savannah and Sam, but some of it was a peaceful silence. I imagine it must be the silence that falls at the end of a war, or battle. It felt that way. I finally had a calm that surrounded me that enabled me to lick my wounds and assess the damage.
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