Parenting... and Various Other Forms of Torture.

The morning Adaline was born I immediately noticed and knew several things about her. Her chubby cheeks. That she looks just like her dad. That we would never be able to find pants long enough. That she is going to do great things in this world. That she is without fail the most amazing and beautiful person I have ever seen.

And that she had ridiculously long fingernails.

I waited a day or two to cut them, wanting her to remain as pristine and perfect as when she came out, but the first time she clawed herself I felt like a failure. So I cut her nails... and proceeded to make several of her precious little fingers bleed (no one told me about biting or peeling them until after the fact). I again felt like an enormous failure. At that time I had no idea of how very accustomed I would become with this feeling. 

Don't get me wrong. I love being a mom. I love making her laugh, and when she is wandering around the house chanting "mama" because I am hidden in the kitchen, I just want to hide more so I can hear it over and over and over. I love her and she is no way makes me feel awful. I make me feel awful. Society's expectations of the perfect mom make me feel awful. Expectations in general make me feel awful. But let me not get sidetracked... what society expects can suck my big toe for all I care.

Maybe I will write a 'stick it to the man post' in a few weeks. Maybe. 

Back to parenting. There are attachment parents. Helicopter parents. Free range parents. Tiger moms. Permissive parents. Un-involved parents. Deadbeats and Super-parents. Cry it out parents. Co-sleepers. Bottle feeders. Breast feeders. Authoritative or Authoritarian. The list goes on and on and on and on and on. And on.  No wonder that, at some point in time, I am sure anyone who has had the courage to become a parent has felt like they are doing something wrong by someone else's standards.

And have felt like crap for it.

Recently, Adaline began walking sprinting. We have been traveling a lot the last few weeks, so any time she gets the chance to roam, I let her because odds are, she will end up in her car seat for four hour stretches sooner than later. And car seat riding is certainly not on her top five list of things to do. Anyhow, we were in North Carolina visiting Jason's brother (shout out to the other Nelms clan up in NC), and Adaline was walking around the lobby at church. When she gets tired, she starts to sway and wobble (looking a bit like a drunk) and will usually fall on her diapered butt. 

This time she decided to fall on her precious un-diapered face. She busted her mouth open and bit all the way through her lip. Thank heaven I don't panic until after the fact in those situations. 

All I remember was loud CRACK her face made hitting a table and seeing her screaming mouth full of blood. It is sincerely haunting.

And despite my delayed panic, that familiar feeling of failing set in immediately. Now, she would have a scar to prove I failed.

 Lucky me.

After a blessing from her Dad and Uncle Jerrod, and a kind visit from a doctor in the ward (a really, really nice man with an endearing accent), we decided an emergency room visit was not needed. I cried the whole way back to my brother-in-law's apartment. Adaline and her fat lip slept like nothing had happened. 

I like to try to learn from the situations life hands me, so I do a lot of retrospective thinking. And, in retrospect, there is nothing I could have done that would have prevented her from getting hurt. Sure, I could have kept her on a leash or hovered above her. Wrapped her in bubble wrap. Better yet, I could have kept her in my lap and not let her learn to walk. Ever. In retrospect there are a lot of things I could have done differently to prevent the CRACK and blood pool in her mouth. But not from her getting hurt.

But I wouldn't change it. 

Cruel? I am sure there are those out there already judging me and thinking I am evil for not taking her pain away. That you know exactly what my child needed to prevent getting hurt, because let's face it, you probably know my child better than me. Right? Insert sarcasm here and please see paragraph IV line V of this blog post. For those who are actually interested in what I learned and not judging me, here is the thing. I follow my heart with my child, as does her father. Because she is just that... our child. The Lord sent her to us because the three of us are a match. We belong to her just as much as she belongs to us. Our goal is to raise a girl who loves and cares for others unconditionally, without caring one bit about what others think of her. One who explores and trusts the world around her so she doesn't become a cynic. One who will always want to exemplify the loving demeanor of Jesus Christ. With that being said, whether it is a broken heart at 16 or a busted lip at 10 months, she is going to get hurt, no matter what we do, because out of pain comes knowledge, and I cannot keep her from that.

And I will likely feel like a failure when she hurts. Every. Single. Time.

But maybe sometimes I won't...

Because I think that is part of the adversary's plan. To make us feel like we are doing it 'wrong'. he has infiltrated families in so many ways (pornography, infidelity, money arguments, etc.). Why not attack us when we are doing what is right? Why not make parents of any school of thought think they are wrong, no matter how much their actions are out of love and a deep understanding of their own child. Or worse off, that every one else is wrong and failing their children if they aren't doing it your way. Because, hey, if we feel like we are doing miserable jobs and failing every minute of every day, we will stop trying to do the right thing. Right?

So, rather than spend her entire childhood 'sheltering' her or 'pushing' her, I prefer to just follow my heart and let her be who she is. And she is clumsy. I try to live my life in a way that I have the guidance of a loving Heavenly Father, so I don't think I need a book to tell me how to love the baby I grew for nine months. I don't need an expert opinion or a website... I simply go with my gut. To me, that is the coolest part about being a parent. That you know your child better than anyone else does. I follow the instinct Heavenly Father blessed me with when I pushed this little baby out in my bathroom... Ok - she wasn't so much a little baby as a big one. 

We pick her up when she cries. We snuggle her when she wants it. She eats when she is hungry. She gets rocked to sleep when she is tired. She still nurses and will continue until we both feel like it's done. We make her laugh. We leave her alone when she is figuring something out. We sing and dance a lot. We explore and learn... Because that is what Adaline needs/wants/will get. What Adaline needs/wants/will get may not be what little Suzy or Johnny needs/wants/or will get because they are not the same people. They do not have the same plan. They do not have the same parents.

AND THAT IS OK.

She loves us. And we love her. (Both uses of the word 'love' are terrible understatements and used as verbs here)

So, the title of my post isn't about parenting being a form of torture for the kids, but rather for the parents themselves. No matter what school of thought you adhere to as a parent, odds are you have felt someone else was judging you or you have done some judging. That you have done something wrong or that someone else is an idiot. I know I have. I have done both.

I have been openly judged for cloth diapering, having a home birth, getting Adaline's ears pierced so early, for supplementing with formula, for breastfeeding, for co-sleeping, for not letting her cry it out, for feeding her the same things we eat. The list goes on.

And I have judged for many of the same reasons...

I think it is time for us to stop that. Maybe give people the benefit of the doubt before counting their actions as a gross judgments in error. Maybe acknowledging that someone else's child's needs are different from the needs of our own children. Maybe seeing the bond between a parent and child before insisting that a bond isn't possible because the mom let her kid bust her face open at church. Maybe we should try to understand before judging or being offended.

We should be confidant that we know what is best for our own children. And that others are doing their very best for their own children.

Now, I understand that you cannot blanket statement these things. There are always going to be folks that don't really get 'parenting'. They may cause harm to their children in various ways. I am not justifying what they do; parenting is done out of a feeling of love. If you are hurting or harming your kids, you aren't parenting because your actions aren't coming from a place of love. But for those who have decided to really parent... whatever method they have selected deserves respect and dignity.

Otherwise the family loses. People stop trying. People stop caring. Kindness and understanding will always go a lot father than harsh criticisms.

This is my family... Judge us but we love each other like crazy.