The Tenth
I miss the days when parenting was simpler. I’m not waxing nostalgic for the good ole days or writing out a dog whistle for the maga-minded. I’m talking about when my children were babies and toddlers and I didn’t find myself getting swept up into questions of what is right or good. For all the sleepless nights and endless work that babies entail, at least I wasn’t constantly asking myself existential questions on a daily basis. There’s no ethical question raised when you change a diaper. There is no moral quandary involved in feeding time. Sure there are decisions to be made vis a vis disposable vs cloth diapers or how soon should you switch to formula, etc. But these are largely “one and done” situations and don’t need to be reconsidered every time the baby needs to be changed or fed. The work was physically demanding but the greatest toll it took on your mind was the sleep deprivation.
But now? Almost a decade later? Every day provides a new opportunity for me to wonder what the hell I’m doing and why the hell I’m doing it.
Like for instance when my kid is sick and wants to stay home from school, and it’s not obvious that they’re sick. Missing school is bad. But forcing yourself to go in when you’re sick is also bad. I should push for a school a little bit, just in case they’re exaggerating. Right? But not too much. If they’re sick I don’t want them to feel guilty. But if they’re faking I don’t like that either. I don’t want to be the fool. But I also don’t want to show a lack of trust in my children. Also, what does it mean to say they’re “faking”? If she says she’s sick but she doesn’t have a cold or fever or anything along those lines, that’s faking. But maybe she’s saying she doesn’t feel well enough to go to school because she’s sad or stressed out and just needs a day to recover. Is that valid? Is that “enough” of a reason? Do I question her on that? If I try and she wants to talk, am I being a good listener? Or am I listening like a lawyer, waiting to hear the piece of information that will seal the deal and prove one way or the other? What am I doing at that moment? What role am I fulfilling? A friend or a truancy officer? A parent is something of both and yet neither one of those things at all. And what if she doesn’t want to talk? Do I get mad? Sad that she doesn’t want to share? Sure, maybe. I can’t help how I feel. But I shouldn’t show it. Should I? Probably not too much. I want her to talk to me because she feels comfortable with doing so, not out of any sort of guilt or obligation. But I can’t hide it all either. I am a human person, not an empty automaton.
Really makes me yearn for the days when the big question was if I heated the milk enough. And that question was answered by whether the baby was happy drinking it.
***this is a chunk from a longer thing that became too unwieldy for it to be the quick bits of writing this blog is meant to be. Might someday put it all together but today is not that day***
