Parenting babies is easy.... retrospectively of course. In the thick of it all it certainly seemed difficult, at least with the first child. It got easier with each addition. Having 3 boys in just over 3 years I am sure made it all that more overwhelming. They demanded my time which I gave easily through breastfeeding and keeping them close, they demanded nurturing which I gave through breastfeeding and keeping them close, they demanded my protection....again breastfeeding keeping them close covered a lot of it.
As they grew though and the breastfeeding went away and the co-sleeping and baby wearing went away I had to work harder at keeping connected. Those early choices set up the infrastructure but it didn't pave the roads for me. In reading some thoughts from another mother on sports it has brought back to me something I realized a bit ago; how disconnected I was at times with my children as they reached their "school age" years. The mother of days gone by who listened to her toddler as he tried to express his needs and met them the best she knew how somehow was replaced by someone I wouldn't recognize. Sports brought out the worst in me.
I am not sad, well I am not entirely sad, that none of our children will be playing hockey this year. The part of me that is sad is the one that will miss the connection between the other mothers in the stands or while we waited for practice. Mostly though I breathe a sigh of relief that our hockey time is done for now. I became a terrible person. Did I yell at other kids or care that their team won? No I was not that parent but I was the parent who shouted out for my son to work harder or chase the puck faster (or the soccer ball for that matter in the spring). Whether in pseudo encouragement or out of frustration it didn't matter they were the same words. I knew as a logical and seemingly respectful parent that this was not good for me, my sons or anyone. But the words came out of my mouth none the less.
I can't even imagine how conditional my love seemed to them at the time. No matter what I said that was pleasant the words that I am afraid stuck to them were the ones that sent a message I had worked hard to avoid since their births; when you do "this" I like you more than when you do "that". I like them just fine no matter what they do but my actions and my words certainly spoke differently to the them.
It seems I took a mental break for a while and just gave it a half hearted attempt at being a respectful parent. I took the easy way out, the authoritative, "I am the parent" way out. Moving forward and getting back in touch with where I want to be with my kids and knowing how I am going to achieve it feels good.
Respectful means that I will not coerce my child into playing a sport that they have no interest in. Respectful means that I will listen to what the have to say. Respectful means that I will stand back and let them be them. Respectful means that I will truly love them unconditionally!
The idea of unconditional love was reintroduced to me through Unconditional Parenting by Alfie Kohn It is a book that I have passed by so many times in the last ten years. I am so very glad that I found it again a couple weeks ago at a discount book store. It cost less than $10 but the information was priceless. Reading the book now came at a time when I was ready to re-group. It is going to be one of those books that I share with everyone I know. I did not have a complete regression into poor parenting, there were certainly more respectful and connecting moments than there were negative times but it is never a poor practice to review what we do and how we do it. I took inventory of my parenting and realized that I was a little low on unconditionality and respect. Now I am restocked!
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