two great articles on parenting

i read a lot of articles on parenting written by women these days. i miss my mom and wonder what advice she would give me now in my life. i think this article by Elsa Walsh might be close to some things she would tell me.

this was a particularly useful quote for me:
"Learn how to manage conflict, because the greater the level you can tolerate, the more freedom you will retain. Making compromises is a healthy approach to living.
For a woman to say she is searching for a “good enough” life is not failure — it is maturity and self-knowledge."

i don't have a career at the moment, but i'd like one someday. and so i try to take notes from those who have already forged that path and have a family.

this is another good one on the values we have as American parents. the things we don't realize we value and therefore emphasize when parenting our children.

it basically says we, as Americans, value intelligence over other qualities and therefore try to provide intellect-growing stimulus for our kids all the time. i do find myself thinking this way sometimes, although i also really value a person's ability to interact socially with ease and grace as well, so i'm sure i'll emphasize that with my son (something the Italians value a lot which makes sense to me).

"Every society interprets its children in its own way: The Dutch, for example, liked to talk about long attention spans and “regularity,” or routine and rest. (In the Dutch mind, asking lots of questions is a negative attribute: It means the child is too dependent.) The Spanish talked about character and sociality, the Swedes about security and happiness. And the Americans talked a lot about intelligence. Intelligence is Americans’ answer. In various studies, American parents are always seen trying to make the most of every moment—to give their children a developmental boost. From deep inside the belly of American parenthood, this is so obvious it isn’t even an observation. It is only by looking at other societies that you can see just how anomalous such a focus is."

good food for thought!

Dreaming of M&D

I dreamt of Mom and Dad this morning - how they used to be. We were in a tropical locale, which was often true when we were on vacation. Dad was being kind of a jerk, but not in a malicious way. Mom was...happy. She and I consulted on what I should wear. Do you know how long it's been since that's happened? 10 years. That's how long.

I went to a wedding 10 years ago with a guy I was seeing at the time. She was very sick by then. But her last act as a mother was to take me to a department store and buy me some shoes for the wedding. God, she must have been exhausted by the end of that trip. But she made a point of doing it for me. And giving me advice about how to relax and have fun, even though I was nervous about meeting his family.

Do you have any idea how much I've missed her? How I miss having a mother? Our relationship was far from perfect... but we were crazy about each other.

When I got engaged to Jon I cried for 3 months on and off about the fact that I would be getting married without her. Then I was able to move beyond it and enjoy the process.

Now that I approach child-bearing time I feel that I am in for another round of missing her and wishing she were here to ... well, to mother me. I miss my parents. That's all. I just miss them a whole lot. And I feel that I'm too young not to have them.

Some people never have them. I realize that I'm lucky that I had parents (at least one) who doted on me. She was interfering and obsessive and stubborn as all hell, but she loved me more than anything else in the world. And I, her.

It's taking a while for my head to clear from this dream this morning. Part of me is still back in that beach house asking her, "Is this the right cardigan to wear with this dress?" and she was saying, "No, wear this one, it goes better." We walked next to each other towards the restaurant chatting and laughing.

As she said when I visited her class at school- she would look up at me proudly and say to the students, "This is my baby girl." And we'd laugh as I towered over her.

I still am. Even at 36.