Reality in My Parenting
As difficult as it is to believe, I used to be this very uptight mother. In the beginning I was literally chasing behind my children with pillows and a diaper bag filled with everything under the sun. I was prepared. I had my act together. I left no stone unturned, had my ducks in a row, and my eggs in a basket. Of course about three months after coming home, my two sons gave me a crash course on reality parenting. It was sort of like one of those reality tv shows, well that is if you combined Survivor and Nanny 911 all wrapped up into the same show. There were many moments that I wish that a very British Mary Poppins type would stroll through my door and give me a clue to what I was doing wrong. Of course now I realize, parenting is not something you can follow a manuel or a road map through, but something that your heart guides you through to be the best parent you can be to the particular child you may have. I am never going to be some "1960's" sitcom mom sitting in the kitchen waiting for my children to arrive home from school with a plate of cookies and a cold glass of milk. That just ain't me! It sure is not my sons.
I am not the mother I thought I would be. It took me years to realize that I could never be the mother I had dreams of becoming. I have adapted to the children I was blessed with. They didn't need me to be "June Cleaver", they needed me. I had to regroup and become the mother they needed. It certainly wasn't my dream of how I imagined my life would be those first few months after my sons arrived home. There is no handbook for that. The adoption agency can't teach a class about it, they can't send out a brochure for it. Sometimes in life you have to wing it and hope you learn quickly enough to make a different.
In the beginning I thought I was so prepared. I was flat out wrong! I was prepared for the big stuff. I stressed about attachment disorder, bonding, fetal alcohol syndrome, and the list went on and on. The things that became huge issues for my family were not something I was really expecting. At least I never thought prior to adopting that these minor and small things would be such a trial for my sons and I. Life just has a way of twisting and turning at times.
First of all, I do not care what someone may say about children not remembering early memories in their life. I personally believe they might not remember specific things, but I do happen to believe they remember major events or a faint memory of it. My oldest son was 16 months old when we adopted him. My youngest was just a year old. My youngest has no memory of where he came from unless we tell him or remind him of a story. My oldest son has strong memories and feelings about where he came from and the life he led. He may not remember specific details about everything, but I can say he has strong memories of feelings and emotions over certain events.
All this is leading up to the fact that my children wouldn't allow me to be the mother I had wanted to be, but that's alright. I wasn't meant to be that mother anyway. I adapted and adjusted in those early months and years after the adoption just as my sons did. We did it together. They taught me as much as I taught them. We learned as we went along and adapted to one another's feelings and needs.
If I could go back in time and changed anything about the long wait to adopting my sons, I would have stressed less about the little things. I know now that these children, these wonderful adoptive kids, give you their own road maps. We, as their parents, just have to stay true to the course, follow the path that they need us to go down, and arrive at the destination knowing our children have the very mother that they needed and deserved all along.
I know some adoptive parents have adopted very easy going children that seem to glide through life with a smile on their face and a gentle spirit within them. I actually have one of these children myself. Of course I am very afraid of what the teenage years may be like with him since he is such an easy child right now. On the other hand, I know some parents that have adopted children that test the limits every second of the day, that seem to have some sort of wild spirit within them that would even make Mother Theresa clench her teeth. I have one of these children too. It is frustrating and difficult, but at times the things that seem to drive me batty is the things I am most thankful for within my oldest son. I know his spirit, his bull-headed determination is what helped him get through those struggles in his early life. I am so thankful for that wild spirit that went against the grain, that helped him face those early obstacles and sail through them.
It took me a little time to grieve over the image of the mom I thought I wanted to be, just as it took me a little time to grieve through infertility. The loss in both forms shapes you, molds you, and changes you forever. However, on the other side of the tunnel, I see the mother I have become, the mother my sons needed me to be, and that ain't so bad. In fact, I would not change a thing.
I am not the mother I thought I would be. It took me years to realize that I could never be the mother I had dreams of becoming. I have adapted to the children I was blessed with. They didn't need me to be "June Cleaver", they needed me. I had to regroup and become the mother they needed. It certainly wasn't my dream of how I imagined my life would be those first few months after my sons arrived home. There is no handbook for that. The adoption agency can't teach a class about it, they can't send out a brochure for it. Sometimes in life you have to wing it and hope you learn quickly enough to make a different.
In the beginning I thought I was so prepared. I was flat out wrong! I was prepared for the big stuff. I stressed about attachment disorder, bonding, fetal alcohol syndrome, and the list went on and on. The things that became huge issues for my family were not something I was really expecting. At least I never thought prior to adopting that these minor and small things would be such a trial for my sons and I. Life just has a way of twisting and turning at times.
First of all, I do not care what someone may say about children not remembering early memories in their life. I personally believe they might not remember specific things, but I do happen to believe they remember major events or a faint memory of it. My oldest son was 16 months old when we adopted him. My youngest was just a year old. My youngest has no memory of where he came from unless we tell him or remind him of a story. My oldest son has strong memories and feelings about where he came from and the life he led. He may not remember specific details about everything, but I can say he has strong memories of feelings and emotions over certain events.
All this is leading up to the fact that my children wouldn't allow me to be the mother I had wanted to be, but that's alright. I wasn't meant to be that mother anyway. I adapted and adjusted in those early months and years after the adoption just as my sons did. We did it together. They taught me as much as I taught them. We learned as we went along and adapted to one another's feelings and needs.
If I could go back in time and changed anything about the long wait to adopting my sons, I would have stressed less about the little things. I know now that these children, these wonderful adoptive kids, give you their own road maps. We, as their parents, just have to stay true to the course, follow the path that they need us to go down, and arrive at the destination knowing our children have the very mother that they needed and deserved all along.
I know some adoptive parents have adopted very easy going children that seem to glide through life with a smile on their face and a gentle spirit within them. I actually have one of these children myself. Of course I am very afraid of what the teenage years may be like with him since he is such an easy child right now. On the other hand, I know some parents that have adopted children that test the limits every second of the day, that seem to have some sort of wild spirit within them that would even make Mother Theresa clench her teeth. I have one of these children too. It is frustrating and difficult, but at times the things that seem to drive me batty is the things I am most thankful for within my oldest son. I know his spirit, his bull-headed determination is what helped him get through those struggles in his early life. I am so thankful for that wild spirit that went against the grain, that helped him face those early obstacles and sail through them.
It took me a little time to grieve over the image of the mom I thought I wanted to be, just as it took me a little time to grieve through infertility. The loss in both forms shapes you, molds you, and changes you forever. However, on the other side of the tunnel, I see the mother I have become, the mother my sons needed me to be, and that ain't so bad. In fact, I would not change a thing.
posted by Hopeful Mommy @ 9:52 PM
2 comments
