The problem with being the present parent

So sorry for my extended absence, dear readers. I promise it wasn't intentional - it's just that 2014 was quite the busy year at Tara. But have no fear, as one of my New Year's resolutions is to blog more, especially after the encouragement I received from one of the editors I work with through my actual job to write more. So, here it is!

So...the problem with being the present parent, you ask? What's that supposed to mean? Well, it occurred to me as I yet again, for the umpteenth time earlier this week as I had to set boundaries on the electronics Jade and Gabby received for Christmas, that there are some perks to being the absent parent. Ashley and I have had a rather interesting few months as the girls thought they were being sneaky online, only to realize that Mom and Dad know a lot more about the Internet than they do. As a result, there have been groundings, extra chores and a lot of time spent being the rule enforcer.

Here's a dirty secret of parenting no one bothers to tell you before you get into it - no one actually likes being the rule enforcer. Well, maybe some authoritarian parents do, but not most of us. It's hard work to put your foot down, say no, and stick to it. It's even harder when you work all day, come home to cook dinner, do dishes, do the laundry, AND be the rule enforcer. It would be a lot easier for all of us if Jade and Gabby just followed the rules all the time. But of course, preteens - especially preteens who love to be oppositional - are practically required to break rules. Which is all the more reason why it's so important to enforce rules and boundaries.

But, I'm not a perfect parent. Especially after a busy few months at work, combined with some health issues I continue to face, it's quite exasperating to be the present parent most days. So, do I lose my patience at times? Yes. Are there moments that I look back and go, "Alright, Southern Step/Mom, you could have totally handled that better." Of course there are. All this means there are times where the kids don't see me at my best. Just as with spouses, when you live day in and day out with someone, you see all sides of them - the good, the bad, and the ugly.

But when you're the absent parent, like Jade and Gabby's bio-mom Maggie, you get to be whatever your bio-kids choose to see you as. Some kids see their absent parent for who they are, but as I saw plenty of times when I worked in child welfare, it's easy for many kids to sanctify their absent parent. The kid comes up with any and every excuse in the book as to why the absent parent is really the "good" parent, because it's easy to ignore the parent's faults when they aren't in your face every day. It's easy to think that life would be so much better with the absent parent because the absent parent never has to enforce rules, set boundaries, or....well, be a parent.

This is why I firmly believe it's so much easier to give birth to a child than it is to be a mother. Any woman, theoretically barring any physical issues, can give birth, but to actually stick it out through the next 18 years and raise that child? Well, childbirth sounds a lot easier than people would have you think compared to 18 years of active child-rearing. Maybe it's not as physically painful, but it surely can't be any more emotionally trying.

So do I expect the girls to appreciate all Ashley and I do for them and sacrifice for them now? No, but I do hope that when they are adults, they realize that despite our faults, being the present parents takes guts, determination and an inner strength that no one really explains before you become a parent, and that they cut us a little slack for being imperfect.

A letter to my girls on Mother's Day

"Once there were two women who never knew each other. One you do not remember, the other you call Mother...The first one gave you life, and the second taught you to live it. The first gave you a need for love, the second was there to give it." - Unknown

This is the sixth Mother's Day we've now shared together, and I hope you know how each year, you make it more special for me. I know as you get older, you'll probably have some more questions about our family and about you and me. I feel like today is a good day for me to explain why the special things you and Daddy do for me on Mother's Day mean so much, so that maybe when you are older, you'll understand better.

See, I don't know what you looked like when you were born. I mean, I DO, but not from memory, just from pictures I've seen. I don't remember the feeling of you kicking inside me that everyone says is pretty cool, but I have no first hand knowledge of. I can't tell you what your first word was, or when you took your first step. I don't know when you got your first tooth, and I don't remember your first cry. I don't know any of these things because when I met you, you were two towheaded toddlers.

And I didn't have a clue about parenting. I was terrified, actually. I didn't do much babysitting growing up, and I didn't have any siblings, so I didn't know what I was doing. I'm pretty sure I had only changed a diaper twice in my life before I met you. I'd never really been responsible for anyone other than myself before, so I didn't really know what to do, and I made a lot of mistakes. See, when people have babies the "traditional" way, they at least get nine months to prepare. There's also lots of books on how to be a good parent that you usually get time to read before you become a parent. But with you two, I didn't get any prep time. So as Daddy and I were trying to work our way into our relationship, you girls needed a mom pronto, so I had to learn along the way. Actually, I'm still learning!

But yes, I can't tell you any of those things you did before I met you. I haven't a clue what you were like as babies. But I do remember the look of pride on your face as you graduated from Pre-K. I remember the first time you called me Mom. I remember how much I cried after I put you on the bus to Kindergarten. I remember when you lost your first tooth and how terrified I was that you'd see me sneaking into your room to play Tooth Fairy. I remember you telling me "I'm OK, Mom! Bye!" when I dropped you off at your new class. I can sing every Disney Channel theme song from the past five years. I took you on your first plane ride and remember how you beamed with excitement when you got your pilot wings. I remember holding you as you cried the first time a friend broke your heart and trying to keep my own tears at bay. All of these things I remember, and I carry with me in my heart, because you are important to me. I didn't have to give birth to you to care about you and to remember all of the little milestones of your life.

I hope when you are older, you will know how much I cried from joy and relief the day the judge said I could adopt you. It was one of the best days of my life. See, I think there is something special about being chosen. I may not have given birth to you, but I have chosen to be your mom. Because I want to, because I love you. You are so special that God led me right to you. That is something to truly cherish, especially when you have doubts about me or us or our family.

I know you will have questions about your biological mom one day. I don't know why things happened the way they did, and I can't answer that because I wasn't there and I don't know her. But I will say this - sometimes, some people know the best thing they can do for their children is to have someone else be their parent. It doesn't mean you are not a good kid or that you are not loved - it means that you are so special that you deserve parents who can take care of you. I can only guess that she must have known that Daddy and I were the best parents to do that.

Our family will probably change as the two of you get older. Daddy and I would like to have a baby in a few years, but I hope you understand that it doesn't mean I will love you any less. If anything, I will love you more because you've taught me how to be a mom. I have the two of you to thank for that. And I wouldn't change any of it for the world.

I love you both,
Mom

"Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously my own. Never forget for a single minute, you didn't grow under my heart - but in it." - Fleur Conkling Heylinger