As you may have noticed, brevity is not my strong suit.
Most of my blog posts break every web-writing rule in the book, running long, long, longer than 1000 words long. That’s lengthier than most magazine pieces these days. But I always find I have a lot to say. Maybe sometimes more than you all would like to read, but hey. Old habits, they die hard.
So it was with mixed feelings that I considered jumping into Momalom’s latest Five for Ten. The premise is: blog five times, on a one-word theme, in ten days. I mean, five posts in ten DAYS? In my world, that’s practically like finishing a novella. But Sarah very sweetly encouraged me to keep it “short and sweet” and jump in. So here I am, just a few hours under the wire for today’s theme: Courage.
I want to write about my fellow writer mama and friend, Katie Granju. Katie literally wrote the book on attachment parenting (okay, I know Dr. Sears fathered the idea, I was making a little jokey joke) back in the 1990′s, which served as inspiration to me when my babies were little and I was figuring out why certain things, like holding them all the time and sleeping next to them, made sense to me even in the face of criticism from our pediatrician and some relatives. Later, our paths crossed over and over–she’s a fellow mama of many (expecting her fifth right now) and we seem to be always writing about the same topics and having very similar takes on them. So I was shocked and saddened to read about Katie’s 17-year-old son Henry being hospitalized after a massive drug overdose and related physical assault. And in the days since the event, I’ve been following Katie’s blog closely as she writes about raising a child with a serious drug addiction who now faces a long road of physical and neurological rehabilitation.
She’s got her detractors; those who don’t feel she should be writing about Henry’s condition. And on the one hand, I can sort of see where they’re coming from. We moms who write about our kids can never be sure how much sharing is okay; there’s no one standard socially-acceptable amount and for many writing about a minor child’s drug addiction crosses a major line. But Katie’s writings are obviously helping people. And if you believe addiction is a disease, then writing about it is no more inappropriate than writing about your child’s diabetes or heart condition. Keeping it secret simply continues the stigma and makes it less likely that other parents will speak out and get help.
I believe that Katie’s sharing is an act of courage.
But it makes me think of a more ordinary, commonplace courage, one that every mom must share, whether we like it or not: the courage to mother without guarantees. The courage to parent thoughtfully today, and tomorrow, and next week, even though all our thoughtfulness may not get the “results” we hope for. The courage to make what we feel deep down are the right choices, not because it guarantees us a well-behaved, well-adjusted, or even well-liked child, today or tomorrow or ever, but simply because we know they are the right choices and our kids deserve the best we can give. Whether or not they ever do anything to prove they deserved it. Even in the face, actually, of all evidence to the contrary. As it turns out, it does not always follow that the better I treat my children, the better they behave. I’m building a strong foundation, brick by tiny brick, and I have to hope and have faith that it’s enough. But I also have to have the courage to build it even knowing that it may not hold. In fact, I have to build it knowing that it’s possible I should have used another type of material.
I have an admission to make, and if Katie reads this I hope she’ll understand the spirit in which it is made. Years ago I became disenchanted with the idea of attachment parenting. Not because I don’t believe in the tenets, because when it comes down to the way I parent my babies, I’m more “AP” than not. No, it was the way I saw some self-proclaimed ‘attachment parents’ use the philosophy as a weapon, or a shield, or both: a way to fend off the evils that would surely befall other children whose parents raised them differently, a way to set themselves apart, to be special. “The proof is in the pudding,” I’d hear them say. But what if the proof doesn’t turn out to be what you’re hoping for? I’d want to ask. What if eighteen years from now, that pudding you so lovingly raised is rotten and won’t get a job or move out of the house, or robs banks or murders someone? Then what?
Does it mean holding my baby a lot was a bad idea?
Does it mean I should have disciplined more punitively?
Does it mean using that playpen a little more might have been warranted?
Maybe. Who knows? I certainly can’t say that my parenting style is serving each of my five kids perfectly. If you’re an “opposite of AP” parent whose baby was on a schedule from day 1 and never so much as came near a sling, you’re in the same boat. Neither of us know what the future holds. We can only hold tight to the idea that if we parent the way that feels right to us, our confidence and love and certainty will shine through in our kids, who will grow up to be the best kind of pudding: the proof we did it right, or at least, the right way for us.
But chances are good that pudding will be a lot lumpier than we might have hoped. And yet, we have to parent according to our heart and our gut anyway. Simply because it’s the right thing to do.
And that, my fellow moms? Takes courage.
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(don’t forget to head over to Momalom and check out the other Five for Ten participants. And, whee! I came in barely over 1,000 words!)
