There goes the weekend
The weekend was lovely and manic. T-ball, school picnic and major garden work on Saturday. Looking after a third child, watering the garden, cleaning house, unblocking the sink and doing laundry today. Tomorrow we are going to see yet another school. Yes, we have caved. One. Last. School. There’s a small story to this, but I is just too pooped to pop right now and major, linear narration is beyond me.
That we are crawling back onto the shores of schooling, even temporarily, makes the homeschooling brouhaha over at Fritz’s place today a sort of ironic counterpoint (check out the comments). I am definitely saving up for a huge meditation/rant/hysterical fit over the possibility of homeschooling Daniel next year. But again, that’s not tonight. Tonight is for a small meditation about my reaction to parenting books.
I’ve been feeling a little bad. I am all about the idea of blogging this parenting book with The Silent K and others. I think it is interesting, focussing and productive. But I look at my last posts and I feel like the Grinch. And I think I know why.
I am very susceptible to self-doubt — and parenting is prime self-doubt territory. In fact, if there is a capital of The Land of Self-Doubt, it’s Worrying about Being a Good Mother City (which is not far from Don’t Ask Me About Sartre and a short ride down the highway from Do I Look Fat in This). One of the best ways I have found to make these unhelpful demons (to switch metaphors) go away is to embrace the idea of Good Enough. A good enough mother. A good enough day. A good enough attempt at negotiating piano practice, ice-cream consumption, clothing choices, arrival at school, leaving friend’s house, going to bed.
Is there one vegetable on the plate? Good enough.
Have I, despite howling like a maniac earlier, hugged my children and told them I adore them even when they poke each other with markers? Good enough.
Are we all dressed and clean for at least ten minutes each morning? Good enough.
My initial reaction to parenting books is to feel sulky. How can I, I demand of the invisible writer, do more than what I am already doing? How can I do better? Am I not already doing the best I can? Is that not good enough?
But I know I do not have all the answers, and that there is strength and wisdom to be found from others, even cheerful, child-loving writers who exhort me to do better. And I do want to do better — I do. I just need to wander towards it slowly, to hunt it like a skittish deer, because if I confront betterment head on, I get all worried and wibbly. Or defensive.
So I’m looking forward to blogging again about Wayne Dyer. And to being more graceful about it and open to what he has to teach me.
I love you stunts, what can I say.
I completely know what you mean about “good enough”
I have written about 10 posts about chapter 2 and deleted them all. I am really struggling with this stupid book already, and it’s only chapter 2!
In about all 10 of them that I deleted, I wrote the that my problem is that I ahve been parenting on autopilot ever since the baby was born, instead of on purpose, and it makes me uncomfortable when I read that book because I see my flaws, written out before me. And I get angry because I think I am only freaking human and I am doing my best… but that’s a cop out. I CAN do better. I just want to wallow in “i am so tired.. etc” because it’s easier.
But I know I can do better.
Love your demonic metaphors. I will have to note this new geography down on my map for future journeys.
And whether mothers or not, we all simply do the the best we can. As long as we challenge ourselves and are not complacent, now that is the question, I think.
Great blog. I love the dystopia you’ve imagined – maybe its in the Continent of Uncertainty. You’re so right about the “good enough”.
And I think its important to remember that parenting is a two-way process – our children aren’t solely/purely what we make them – it has more than a little to do with them too! I don’t mean that in terms of blaming them, but trusting them.
tho’ i suppose its also to do with trusting ourselves.
So you are home-schooling? Blimus. How do you find the time for the blogging, knitting, book-reviewing etc. etc.? Good enough and more than enough, I’d have thought! You are very impressive.
loved the map of just down the street from do i look fat in this…
heehee
and everything else you say,
makes me stop and think…
how would i rate what i am doing?
and would i rate it honestly?
hmmmm.
Stunts, this is what I think:
If someone is worried she isn’t a good enough parent, then she probably is an awesome one.
If you homeschool Daniel, please know that I will fully support and understand and defend you to the hilt for it. I try to avoid generalizations in real life, but on my blog,I tend to exaggerate my opinion. You’re nifty, so is Stuntdad, and so are your little chipmunks.
I think I would get edgy about parent-books, too. I think we all get defensive (naturally) about how we parent, how we WOULD parent (for those of us barren chicks) and who should tell us how to parent.
If Wayne’s words came out of the mouth of a friend or close family member, I bet you wouldn’t get too edgy. You might not AGREE, but you wouldn’t get nasty. It’s a book. I love the fact you’re blogging about it, and dedicating yourself to the task. But there will be more written and more hints handed down.
Just love your kid, and discipline him, and feed his hungry little head, and you know what? I bet you’ll do just fine by Wayne Dyer and the rest of the world.
Stunts, you’re my heroine.
More than enough. Just by asking those questions, you exceed.
I find it so hard to critically engage a book that very much judges those who judge. What is so sneaky about this book is that (as much as it has its focus on children) it’s really about us.
Sometimes I feel like every how-to parent book or magazine is like a giant, glamorous billboard advertisement. A billlboard of a beautiful woman with flawless skin, winning smile, sexy pose, designer clothing, and fashionable figure. A construction of unattainable perfection with the purpose to make you feel horrified enough about yourself to buy whatever it is selling. The result is false hope and the feeling that you just aren’t trying your best, working hard enough (rich enough) and that nothing is ever good enough. That is my worried, “wibbly”, and defensive response to parenting books – especially when they contradict each other and treat parents as consumers and children as products instead of as people.
So, I don’t like to read parenting books like I did in the months after my first was born and I commend you and Krista for graciously reading Dyer and writing about Dyer.
I’m in magdesignme’s camp. What a great analogy, m – at 41, I look at billboards of those perfect women and think, “Hmph. How NOT real.” But of course it does sort of go in and nudge whatever “not good enough” feelings I may be having. I, too, avoid parenting books, and perhaps that is a defense mechanism. On the other hand, I guess I do feel like I’m doing the best I can do with my kids – and still take care of myself, my husband, my parents, my friends, and what I owe to society in general.
It’s true that I know you only from your blog, but I sense you are very, very honest here – and I want to assure you that you are definitely good enough. Fritz is right, I think – those of us who question whether we are from time to time are not the ones who need worry about being good enough. That said, if you feel compelled to read and discuss a parenting book, then do so. Just remember to weigh everything you read. Some of it might be very billboard-like. (I think doing it with a group like this is a great idea – rather than internalizing something, you can put it out there and we can all say, “Ooooh, interesting” or “Onk! Next idea!”).
I also agree that I struggle with good enough. I am a perfectionist that I am in denial about even though my son is the same. My family has learned that everyone does things differently but they are equal. As long as the task is completed and it doesn’t bother/hurt anyone what is the difference.
I also agree that there are times when explainations are not appropriate and because I said so is used. My kids hate that but I am the mommy so too bad.
I love reading your blog it is so much fun to read. You write very well.