Same same, but different

Sometimes it’s helpful for me to stop obsessing on the mechanics of getting pregnant and think about actual parenting.  So I’m going to do that now.

I think a lot about how my parenting will differ from my mother’s, and how my kid’s childhood will be different from mine.  And then how they will be similar.  Here are some things I hope to be similar:

You will see me bash my mother A LOT on this blog.  I give myself the OK to do this because she did some really horrible things to me and she kind of deserves it.  HOWEVER, I’m woman enough to admit that although she screwed up a lot when we were kids, she did a lot right, too.  Which explains why rather than being dead or in jail now I’m actually a somewhat normal successful person (with issues). 

So the first thing I would say about my mother’s parenting is I give her a big fat A+++ when it comes to the intellectual stimulation & exposure to culture that she gave us.  We have an awesome family that’s into jazz, classical, opera, foreign films, art, dance, great writers, etc etc.  She took me to see French subtitled films when I could barely read; we saw 1950’s Japanese art films when I wasn’t even in jr high; we went to jazz concerts and poured over great opera records.  I specifically chose a musically inclined donor so that my kid would (hopefully) have an interest in being a musician (although of course I won’t push it), and honestly, the thought of introducing my kid to all the amazing music out there makes me glow with happiness.  Often I’ll be in the car listening to The Beatles and think, “wow, I might be able to introduce someone to this music, someone who’s never heard it before!” 

My mother always encouraged all my endeavors and never made me feel stupid when I expressed some (very stupid) fantasies or plans.  In some ways she respected I was an individual and let me live the life I wanted (and in other ways not at all).  I intend to continue this trend.  I truly believe (and my mother believes, too) that kids come into this world with their personality already in place, and I intend to respect my kid’s personality even if I don’t relate to it or understand it.  If my musically pedigreed son decides he wants nothing more than to play pro football, after freaking out about potential cranial damage, I will let nothing stop me from supporting him in this goal, even if that world is totally alien to me and it doesn’t fit the fantasy of who I wanted him to be. 

My mother has a great sense of humor.  It got us all through some rough times.  And life is rough.  I want to make sure this family trait survives into the next generation (how could it not?).

Some things I intend to do differently:

I will make sure my kid knows he or she is loved.  I never felt loved, and this is probably because she never said she loved me, never held me or kissed me or (for the most part) said anything nice to me.  I understand why she was like this, and I do forgive her for this.  It’s a generational thing, and an uptight New England-y spawn of Brits & Scots thing.  But the buck stops here when it comes to lack of affection.  I practice on my dog.  And I’m getting pretty good at it.  When she looks at me with that whiny, shaky thing Chihuahuas do, I say to her, “do you need to be comforted?  Are you having anxiety?” and then I pick her up and hug and kiss her and tell her she’s loved and special.  See?  I can do it.

I will be stable.  One of the most damaging things about my earlier childhood is the constant moving and being pulled out of school.  I don’t think people realize how damaging this is to kids.  Kids need stability, even if it means you had to miss out on that slightly better paying job or opportunity or relationship somewhere else.  I am thrilled when I think my kid will get to have what I never did – people to grow up with, lifelong friends, the comfort and security of one elementary school, one junior high, one high school.  I would have killed for that.

We will do fun stuff and spend lots of time with groups of people.  My fondest childhood memories usually involve other people – being with the rest of the family at holidays, hanging with my mother’s friends and their kids in Boston, the summer camp I went to in Maine.  There was a point at which we became very isolated and I still don’t really know why that happened.  I believe it was around the time my mother just plain checked out and stopped being a parent.  I think she was over it.  So after around nine or ten any fun stuff we did (except the afore-mentioned cultural stuff) usually involved me tagging along with a friend’s family.  Luckily there’s tons of fun stuff to do in Southern California – beaches, water parks, hiking, camping, cook outs, zoos, aquariums, etc.  I will do as much of this stuff as I’m financially able, because I know how much those experiences mean to kids.

I could go on about this for ages; it’s something I think about a lot.  I want my kid to have a happy childhood.  I know it’s possible.  And it’s not about money or having a dad; it’s about love and affection and fun times and being listened to and respected as a human being with your own thoughts and opinions.