Writing a column on parenting, while in the throes of parenting, is somewhat akin to swimming piranha-infested waters. My children, of course, are the fish — ready to eat me alive at any given moment.
Of course, there are days where I have big “aha” moments that I can’t wait to share with readers. And then there are days when I am on deadline, feeling like the worst monster, er, I mean mother on the planet and struggling to find something topical, helpful or at least inspiring to offer.
A recipe, perhaps?
We all have those days, don’t we? Days when the sibling fighting begins before we’ve even opened our eyes. Days when we fall out of bed entirely unrefreshed because we’ve been woken multiple times several nights in a row, and we must hit the ground running.
We pray that the coffee or tea or dark chocolate will kick in before we do something really, really damaging. Never mind the fact that we have other obligations like work, and school, and yes, deadlines.
Those are the moments when I wonder how in the world I ever thought bringing children into this world and living with them was a good idea.
I admit it: I question myself continuously and wonder if I’m doing the right thing, willingly taking full charge of small people who rely on me for food and shelter and other important things… like unconditional love. Yes, it turns out, we are still supposed to love them even when we are feeling desperate, angry, and unbelievably frustrated.
There are most certainly times when, as much as I tout the approach of ruthless compassion for every child who challenges us, I find it difficult, if not impossible to pull it out of my… ahem, tickle trunk.
Like earlier this week when I discovered my favourite scarf full of holes because my youngest wanted to dress up like Elsa from Frozen and wore it like a cape, dragging it on the ground for several hours. And two steps later I trip over a plate of devilled eggs — a second supper the girls themselves selected and made because they didn’t like what I had prepared the night before — sitting in the backyard when the deal was they had to eat before playing with neighbour friends.
And then, THEN… they show up singing en chorus for frozen smoothie pops.
“Of all the nerve!” I think to myself. Well, not really, but that’s about all I will admit publicly to thinking/saying in a very loud, scary voice.
If we’re all lucky, I stop there and take a deep breath and see the humour in the situation and bathe in the inspiration for a new column. If not, I may have a good cry and frantically search the Internet for ideas on something — anything — topical, helpful or inspiring to offer.
Today I opted not to do that — and it was definitely one of THOSE days.
You’ll notice that I didn’t offer you a recipe, either. Instead, I stayed with everything I was feeling and decided to be brutally honest — which in its own way, I hope, you find inspiring.
The dark chocolate I had by my side while I wrote didn’t hurt, either.
Kirsten Andrews offers Simplicity Parenting courses, workshops and private consultations in the Corridor and Lower Mainland. Visit Sea To Sky Simplicity Parenting on Facebook or www.SeaToSkySimplicityParenting.com.
