Indulgent. Neglectful. Authoritarian. These three parenting styles send shivers down my spine just by reading them. The mere mention of these labels is intimidating, and I know I’ll likely resonate with at least 8 out of 10 characteristics associated with them.
Have you ever caved and bought your kids something they wanted, like those trendy headphones? Bingo! Mark down Indulgent. How about those nights when dinner was the last thing on your mind? Yep, that’s another square for Neglectful. And let’s not forget the time you held your ground against getting them a smartphone while all their friends had one? Authoritarian. All those red chips seem to pile up quickly!
Parenting is, without a doubt, the most significant aspect of my life. It fills my thoughts as I wake up and as I drift off to sleep. It’s what nourishes me, and I cherish the role of being a mother. Yet, despite two decades in this journey, I often feel like I’m just winging it. There are moments of sheer panic intermingled with those of calmness. Even a Civil War reenactment I once agreed to doesn’t compare to the uncertainty I face as a parent.
At night, I remind myself: “Forgive yourself as you forgive them.” I keep a note in my purse that reads: “Mistakes are part of learning.” A Post-It on my mirror says, “You don’t just move on; you learn.” These words are my anchors, guiding me through the fog of uncertainty. Just when I believe I’ve figured things out, life shifts the landscape, and I’m left feeling like I’m navigating unfamiliar terrain.
Reflecting on my childhood, I recall a sense of isolation in a crowded home. That feeling of being misunderstood often haunts me, making me question if I’m providing what my children truly need. Balancing their independence with guidance is a delicate act. I never felt empowered as a child, which led to a long journey of finding my own voice.
Now, my three kids turn to me with their joys and frustrations, challenging the authority I hold in their lives. I experience their gratitude, but also the pushback that comes with being such a significant figure in their world. Yet, they have always felt a sense of safety with me. I remember when they were infants, needing my constant presence, even during simple tasks like showering. I’d find myself singing through the curtain, sometimes in tears, overwhelmed by their need for me.
Now, I can shower without an audience and no longer need to announce my trips to the bathroom or the laundry. My youngest is 13, and our conversations are shifting. They feel less like brawls and more like stepping into the ring together. He’s at a crossroads, trying to navigate the journey from boyhood to young adulthood. He’s wrestling with his identity while I must remember to let him explore it without interference.
His lingering desire to be close to me, despite societal expectations, is a choice he makes. It’s a challenging place for him, caught between the comforts of childhood and the push toward independence. After all, society doesn’t reward teens for still liking their parents. So, when he hands me an invitation to a “fight,” I can choose not to engage. Instead, I hold out my arms, ready to embrace him if he falls into them. Ultimately, I want to be the safe space he can always return to.
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In summary, parenting is a complex journey filled with challenges and moments of joy. It calls for balance, understanding, and the willingness to learn from our mistakes. Through it all, the goal is to be a source of safety and guidance for our children as they navigate their own paths.
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