[Please note: This post took much longer to write and organize than I expected. Someone in the Literati Club will surely come take my card away from me shouting, "Thee is not a writer! NOT a writer. Thee is a fraud!" any moment now, I'm sure. They'd better hurry because this will take several posts to get through.]
When I became a parent the very first time at 15 years old I recall wondering where my new baby would fit into a life filled with braces, my LL Cool J poster, and the 4 season sports I played. Obviously, taking your infant to your JV volleyball game was a no-no, so I had to turn in my volleyball uniform, my basketball uniform, and my track shorts and top. That next summer I didn’t even bother going out for softball. It would just be one more uniform I had to turn in and I couldn’t bear to see another coach’s disappointing face. My mind was preoccupied with so many teen things that now, looking back, I realize that it’s a luxury to contemplate, ponder, and generally mull over how to parent. When life is about just-getting-by you don’t get to indulge in a chance to worry about how well you are parenting.
That kid turned out damn well despite the fact that I didn’t think too much about parenting. I just did it. You simply do.
If the baby cries? You check her diaper or see if she’s hungry. If that doesn’t work? You cradle and rock and sing and whisper until she’s quieted. She falls down and scrapes something? You kiss it with magic fairy kisses and put on a Barbie Band-Aid. Somehow I managed to help get that kid to age 20 with few bumps and bruises, a penchant for spontaneously bursting into song, and the wisdom to laugh at my jokes. (Last night while flipping channels I proclaimed: “This reality tv crap is ridiculous. Reality TV is Oprah for the masses.” Any kid who gets my Karl Marx joke is alright with me.)
Here are the thoughts of the stupidest girl ever to breathe oxygen. Me, age 20:
This parenting thing? It’s not too hard. I get it. You feed them. Clean up their poop. Kiss them until they tell you to get out of their face. Laugh. Tickle. HA. I got it! I should do this again! And again!
Enter Kennimus. Age 25.
Also, enter sex. Which means, for me, Most Fertile Woman On The Planet, that another baby is on the way. Truth be told, we used birth control and should have named all our children after the birth control which failed us. Their names should be interchangeable with whichever particular form of contraceptive was unsuccessful. I should be able to shout, “Hey, Today Sponge! Bring mommy a Coke, would ya?“
I should have known he was going to be different from the start, but I kept thinking that my memory of babydom was wrong if I was having this much trouble. He never really slept, but all the baby books I started reading said that you shouldn’t change your own habits, just go about your business and let the baby adjust to YOUR schedule and noises and interruptions.
Dr. Spock can justkissmyass.
The baby books were all wrong! He only slept when it was completely silent in the house and any noise whatsoever made him whine until I got him out of his crib. Even then he wouldn’t let me hold him because he was up! He was ready to play, play, PLAY until it was time to eat and then he was fussy and picky about food and everything was forced. This was the first kid I had to trick into eating something. With Mallory it was simply, “Which vegetable would you like with dinner? Peas or carrots?” With Mason it was, “ Which vegetable would you like? Which one? Pick one? There are two! Pick one! THEY WON’T KILL YOU. THEY’RE GOOD FOR YOU. EAT THEM. EAT THEM. EEEEEEEAAAAT THEM.“
This parenting thing? It’s not for the faint of heart. I never believed in those harnesses parents put on their children until Mason came along and then I realized it would be the thing that would save his life. He ran out in the street without looking. He was impulsive with everything and fiddled with everything with his hands and got hurt a lot because of it. He never quite learned to stop moving and chugging along because he was in his own world and it never seemed to slow down long enough for any significant eye contact to take place between us.
It scared me, this knowledge. He was going to be different. He was going to be special. In this world, being “special” isn’t a good thing.
Having Mason made me rethink everything. As a teacher, it made me reflect on how I taught. As a parent, it caused me to pore over why I was so awful at being his mother, and why he wouldn’t just sit, JUST SIT FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY because I said he should. It took all of 4 and a half weeks of kindergarten for his teacher to profess, “He needs to be on medicine” and for me to slump into a pile of sobbing tears. It was the most awful parent/teacher conference I’d ever attended (that’s just on the side of being a parent – I’ve cried being on the side of the teacher before, too, but that’s a different story) I was sitting in those tiny kindergarten chairs that cause my knees to be bizarrely close to my face and I was weeping all because he was broken and I was doing this all wrong and now somebody outside my family knew how shitty a parent I was and was calling me on it.
She thought he needed to be fixed with drugs. In all of 23 days she assessed and diagnosed him. He was ADHD and needed Ritalin right away.
Everything about him was incongruous to the way I’d done things with his sister. Everything I knew about being a parent was going to be challenged and for once, I was going to have to think about it. He was a happy baby and a cheerful toddler and an energetic school-age boy, but this was going to change the way I did things and create in me more self-doubt than I’d ever experienced parenting Mallory even though I did the better part of that when I was in my teens.
He was going to change me and I fought against it with all I had.
The crying had just begun.
{ 30 comments }
Your writing is quite entertaining! You are truly a trip, but very good at what you do
I especially like the Atari story. Keep me informed about the coffee mugs-I am a coffee drinker and that is a great idea-
From reading you I think you are an amazing parent. I was diagonsed with ADD when I was in my early twenties, I’m 25 now. I wish my mother would have listened when my teachers tried to tell her. It would have saved me from a world of confusion. Medication may not be for everyone BUT when you are aware of what the “problem” is, it is easier to accept it and tap into your childs creative side. I’m interested in knowing how you are dealing with it.
Have I mentioned this week that you are awesome?!
Happy New Year and Good Morning! Uhh..are you expecting??? Your a brave soul. My 3 are tapping all resources of my patience and good nature
What ever happened to the childhood picture for my daughter friend-Warmly
Todd – I haven’t forgotten the photo so I promise to scan one and do it this week, ok? You shocked me even asking for it, but since we go waaaayyyy back I’ll do it.
Sandra C – Part of my writing about this is to explore what I promised Susan that I would (I make a lot of promises, don’t I?). My “dealing with it” has been going on for 15 years now and dealing with meds? That was one of the bigger hurdles. In fact, I’d be interested in how YOU have dealt with it now that you are an adult.
A mom at 15 is way harder than a mom at 25, 35 even 45. At 15, besides dealing with the usual Mommy things, you also must have to deal with the masses questioning your judgment. (How rude) And look at how you and your daughter are together. If only I could have that relationship with my daughter when she is grown…I could learn a lot from that 15 year old Mom. And I was 31 when I had her….You are a wonderful mother and writer and if the Literati or anyone else thinks otherwise…who needs ‘em.
Are you havin’ a baby????
And the saga continues…..
WHY must you TORMENT me SO?!?!
I understand. My difficult ones still challenege me, daily. And cause me more angst and self doubt than all the others put together.
This is so beautiful. I found myself nodding along and wiping my eyes because YES and YES and YES. The harness! And the vegetables! And the self-doubt. The horrible, horrible doubt.
Thank you for writing about this. And thank you for living it so wonderfully.
Now I need a tissue.
Do you remember when were standing by the pool in CA (because there have been so many times that we were standing by the pool together…years of those moments) and you and some others were describing, in detail, what it is like to give birth? Well that conversation coupled with this post is what makes me nervous about having children and then the whole parenting thing. But then again I have years to prepare for I am a zygote and I’ve never heard of zygotes having zygotes. In fact is that even possible?
This sounded so much like my life! My first, when I was young, was a girl and was EASY. Even though I was in college and running track and cross country, she was easy to parent, easy to take places and easy to have around.
child #2…a boy. Not so easy. I was SURE he was ADHD. But, he is actually good at school. But, he is VERY challenging home. He must save it all for us. We pull our hair out all the time at home. He had always been our high maintainance child.
child #3…another boy…sheesh even more active that #2. Now what????
When I was preganant with #1 – my grandfather said to me that when God gives us children he has a plan to teach us something. My #1 taught me about responsibility and growing up. #2 continues to teach me patience. I haven’t figured out #3 yet
Sorry for the long post…I am looking forward to reading more on your boys.
Wow, what a story. I’m not a parent, but it seems to me that a new parent would learn a whole lot more reading something like this than a book written by some guy named Spock.
I wish I could even dredge up the courage to write about how I felt about my second son after “just doing it” with the first. I felt like the most horrible parent ever — I loved him but he flustered, flummoxed and frustrated me constantly. He wouldn’t sleep unless he was sprawled across his dad’s chest getting his butt tapped rhythmically all night. When he was a year old he was climbing on the dining room table as if he were Superman.
I shuddered when we went to relatives’ homes because I knew that by the time we left they’d be heaving a sigh of relief and wondering why on earth I couldn’t control my child.
I’m looking forward to reading more. I suspect that your story will part from mine shortly, and I’ll enjoy reading it all the more.
Leave Oprah out of this! I mean…come on???!?!?!
But hey, at least I don’t need to call any of your kids “devil-boy”…
you know who I am talking about! I am SO glad to get rid of him. He is someone else’s problem starting next semester!
And…I can NOT believe you stood up for him that day!
He is a compulsive liar!!! He is not like your kids! You have wonderful kids!
So I am not the only parent to question my abilities. Thank you for expressing them.
Stop by and read my post from today if you get a chance. I know you were over earlier, but it was before I put todays post up. You might get a kick out of it.
Thanks,
-S.
As a fellow teenaged parent (although not until I was 19), I really enjoyed reading this, but the most profound part for me was this:
“When life is about just-getting-by you don’t get to indulge in a chance to worry about how well you are parenting.”
EXACTLY! I didn’t read books and decide on a “parenting method”. I didn’t get to prepare a nursery for my newborn. Everything was unplanned and this baby just had to fit into the lives we were struggling to get by on. And it worked out well (proof: she is still alive today).
My second and third were nothing like the first either…and it came as quite a shock.
Wow. You could take your name out and Mason’s and put in my name and my son’s and it would be our exact same story. Only difference is that I didn’t have another small child to care for at the same time like you did. Reading this brings back all those memories for me. It is still a struggle with my son and school, even though he is highly intelligent and extremely creative. And it’s still a struggle in some aspects of relationships because of the impulsivity. I can’t wait to see how you have handled it all and what you have learned through the years. I could have never expressed my own story the way you did here – so eloquently and honestly. Thank you for sharing this and I am so looking forward to hearing more.
I am a adult who has lived with ADHD for my entire life. I took the stuff before Ritalin, it made me sleepy. I didn’t take anymore meds until I was in nursing school and was terrified of failing out due to my mind not allowing me to focus. I tried Stratera, it worked but it made me really anal about things almost OCD. I finished school and got off the meds. I see the same behaviors I had as a child in my son. I am terrified for him! Once you can get thru school it gets easier! You learn how to adapt to it. Good luck to you and your kids in the new year!
*HUG* You’re just the bestest. (Just pretend that’s a word.)
I’ve never been in your situation, I don’t even have children yet, but you write so clearly that I feel like I understand. I can feel the human emotions under the surface and sympathize in a way that doesn’t logically make sense.
Your love for your children through it all is just so obvious. You’re a great mother. A great teacher. A great writer. You’re bad at something, right? Like, are you one of those people that doesn’t correctly pronounce nuclear? Please say that you are, it’ll make me feels loads better about your unnatural greatness.
Todd – No.
Janet – No.
VENTL8R – Because I can.
Chris – I thought of you and yours many times when writing this.
Susan – Ditto what I said to Chris. You gave me some measure of courage, so thank you.
Heather B – I recall with clarity, though I try not to tell my birth stories to people. Generally, they’re pretty uninteresting and horribly frightening. You’re such a cute zygote. I can’t believe, still to this day, that I said that to you and THAT YOU REMEMBER IT SO WELL. See how things just fall out of my mouth.
InTheFastLane – Number 3 was another new challenge. I can’t even begin to write about THAT. How that works I’m not sure…
RWA – I hope you’re thinking of the right Spock.
Karoli – Sometimes the relatives were the worst because they saw the kids a lot and had a lot of ammo. That part seems to be universal, doesn’t it?
J to the Wall – I give you 20 minutes with my boys before you have some nicknames for them. I pray “devil boy” isn’t one of them, but I can’t say that I haven’t thought that about them from time to time. Or maybe it was “Satan’s Minions”? I can’t recall. They’ve stolen my brain cells.
S – We all do it eventually. I’ll be over to offer..umm… a comment. Should be interesting.
Vicky – You picked up on my favorite line in this whole post. The one I tried to highlight because it truly IS a luxury to worry about your children. It means that you have the time, the foresight. I didn’t always have that. Thanks for pointing it out.
Tess – Thank you for reminding us that they ARE intelligent and creative. Mason is far superior in many ways to me and I hope to write about that, too.
Big R – Thanks for that! What was the drug before Ritalin anyway? Getting through school is, by far, the biggest hurdle we face every year. EVERY. YEAR.
Miranda – If you promise to laugh and point at me I’ll say “nuke-ya-lur” a la GWB. Oh, and I’m bad at playing Spades. Really. Just horrible. Kennimus never wants me on his team.
Parenting — I’ve heard so many say that if the second one had been their first, there wouldn’t have been a second. That makes sense, doesn’t it? Well, live long and prosper, all of you. Oops, wrong Spock.
Oh my gosh, you are like many parents. I was I think 19 I can’t even remember,,,had to get married ,,,pregnant. Been married 41 or 42 years lol. lucked out .great man, last child, now 26, he was labeled and is dyslecic and ocd, great loving kid and doing ok because, we just dealt with it. Have spent many sleepness nites going over my failures as a parent. I suffered trama , in a a small town and my disgrace, but I survived and have 3 of the best boys on earth.But , mainly I want to say for some reason I found your blog and have read it faithfully for months and you are a great and entertaining writer. I really dont’ like it when you don’t. I am evidently living vicarously your life lol.
Don’t beat yourself up. An d don’t be scared, I am an old white woman from arkansas and i think you are the best.
(I did not realize my full name would show up)
Look at you now-proud parent with a wonderful family! You got to let me know when you get to town so we can chat and introduce our families!!!!!!!!!!
You have quite an audience and it is neat to read about your childhood. You kicked butt when the odds were against you at a young age girl
Sounds like Kennimus has “Jack Bauer” sperm.
I saw myself in your story, most definitely.
I will say I despise it when teachers diagnose children and tell parents to get meds for them. They can suggest, and I’m fine with suggesting I visit my doctor; but telling me what meds my child needs is a bit out of their expertise. More often than not the teacher that tells me my kid needs to be on meds wants no challenges at all in the classroom, and just wants to stifle any creativity a child may have outside of what they will provide. Makes me mad.
Not that I’m anti-meds. My son has been on a cocktail of them for years. We finally have one that works well, but I’ve noticed we might need to increase it a bit. Even he no notices when he misses a dose, and doesn’t like the way he feels that day.
Pretty astute for a child that many teachers might deem a “behavior problem”, don’t you think?
I’m so with you on this road, Kel. And I’m thrilled I’m not alone.
Shash
Well…you had a normal baby boy, at least by my standards! This post was like reliving part of my oldest son’s past. He turns 24 tomorrow. His kindergarten teacher tried to convince me he was ADHD. His pediatrician said nope and no to drugs. He certainly did have an extremely short attention span!
Never had to study for a test, school was that easy. Went into high school a year ahead in 2 subjects and then became bored and decided to stop working. He had anger management problems and was at times anti social.
Went to college and then quit. Went back and changed majors. He is so intelligent it scares me! And he is still learning…he just started really reading books this past year…now he devours them! Did I mention he was a computer gamer and can build computers as well as their programs and languages?
Hang in there. And if anyone ever tries to tell you that boys aren’t hormonal…slap them.
I will be more than willing to share with you my story. Being diagnosed with Adult ADD was a breath of fresh air. I can now understand why I am as “creative” as I am. I will tell you much more, just say when!
This is so beautiful. Even though you highlight your struggles, I can feel the love you have for your son pouring through the words, oozing onto my screen. I can’t even describe the overwhelming love I have for you and the person you are.
-hugs-
Awwww did you have to wait until I was away to start writing cool posts about the boys? I am catching up on them now
I dont have to tell you how much this rings true for me. YOU were the one I ran to for guidance when they told me Bowen was ADHD and ODD. You helped me deal with all the emotions to reach a decision about medication. You are still the most wonderful parent and person I think I will ever be blessed enough to know. I just hope I get to meet you in person someday so I can hug you for real 
Mwah. Looking forward to more!!!
When my son was 8 months old and his developmental delays became obvious, I went out onto my deck and chucked the book What To Expect The First Year out into the back yard, helicopter style. Every single chapter made me feel like CRAP. I haven’t read another parenting book since. We’re learning as we go and using what works for us.
Comments on this entry are closed.