What Do YOU Think of My Kids?

We all know the old joke about talking to someone who is self-centered: ”So, enough about me. What do YOU think of me?” There should definitely be a variation about talking to a parent: “So enough about my kids. What do YOU think of my kids?”

As a parent, I feel like I am often judged by other people based on my children’s behavior, so I do have a vested interest in knowing what they think of them. Do they find their endless chatter entertaining or annoying? Do they see their boundless energy as exuberance or hyperactivity? Are my children fun to listen to, or do they grate on the listener’s ears? Are they merely tolerating them or are they genuinely enjoying them? Do they want to be around my children, or are they desperately waiting for them to JUST GO AWAY?

So whenever I get an unsolicited comment about them that is in any way positive, my heart just about bursts with pride. Take tonight, for instance: we had a new babysitter watching our kids, one that my husband had met but that I hadn’t. When I came home and asked her how they were, she smiled and told me about a few of their antics, then added, “You have such nice kids. You’re obviously doing a really good job with them.”

Our regular babysitter has often commented that she really enjoys watching our kids, and a good friend with kids that we have playdates with reminds me regularly that it is a pleasure to watch my kids and that she is happy to do it.

Comments like that are music to a mother’s heart. There are many, many things that I want for my children: a good education, a solid circle of close friends, a love for God, a rewarding career, marriage and a family. There are many things that I want them to be: honest, loyal, trustworthy, reliable, thoughtful, wise, considerate, loving, well-mannered. But one of the most important things that I want them to be is pleasant to be around. I want them to be likeable, and I want them to be liked. And I think the reason that is so important to me is that being liked is the result of being all the other things I want them to be. Someone who is dishonest will not be liked. Nor will someone who is disloyal, or untrustworthy, or unreliable, thoughtless, willfully ignorant, uncaring, or rude. So the fact that they are liked is proof that their character is what I have been trying to shape it into. Someone who is a genuinely good and caring person is someone who will always find someone to be on their side. Someone who will never be without friends, someone who will always be part of a group, someone who can find support when they need it.

I think that my kids are pretty terrific, and I love them dearly. I even enjoy their company (most of the time). But I know that I’m completely biased. So whenever I find someone else who enjoys them too, even when they don’t have to, it does my heart good. I love them so much, it makes me happy when other people love them too.

I guess I really am doing okay at this parenting thing. 

Mother's Little Helper

When I was in junior high, a friend of my mom’s who lived on the next street from us asked if I would be interested in being a mother’s helper for her a few times a week. I had no idea what that meant until she explained to me that it was like babysitting, except that she’d be home. She’d started doing some work from home and was finding it difficult to do with her (then) three kids underfoot. At the time, the only experience I’d had with kids was helping my parents out in the church nursery, but I liked kids and knew that babysitting could be pretty lucrative, so I agreed. She taught me how to change a cloth diaper, including the invaluable tip of sliding the pin through your hair to pick up a bit of oil so it’ll slide through the fabric more easily (a tip I’ve used over the years in many circumstances other than babysitting), how to distract a crabby child, what little ones can and can’t eat, and the art of spelling out certain words. It turned out to be some of the best training I ever had for babysitting - and for parenthood.

Because of that, I’m looking forward to having a mother’s helper myself in the near future. We made a connection with this young lady in a very unusual way. We were out to dinner with the kids at the local Chinese buffet and, as usual, my daughter was flirting with and waving to everyone in sight. A teenage girl and her mom in the next booth were obviously charmed by her, and when we waved goodbye as we left, she jokingly asked, “Do you need a babysitter?” She was a bit surprised but also very excited when we stopped and told her, yeah, we did. We quickly discovered that we knew several families in common from my stepdaughter’s school years, so references were easy to check on both sides. We exchanged information, and in the next few weeks she’ll hopefully be coming by after school to give me a few hours of respite from the kids.

It’s funny to think back to thirty years ago when I was in her shoes, and I wonder if thirty years from now, she and I will be chatting on the future equivalent of Facebook as I now do with my mentor, reminiscing as her children go through the stages that my children are going through now. Maybe I’ll be sharing pictures of my daughter’s wedding with her, recalling some funny story or tidbit from today. Maybe I’ll be sending her a recording of my son’s band, or a video of his first professional football game, or a news article about his graduation from medical school. Maybe I'll even be sending her photos of my grandchildren.

But whether I keep in touch with her for years or not, I will be proud to know that I have become another link in the endless chain of mothers teaching other mothers.

Who's Watching the Baby?

Ryan definitely wins a gold star award for surviving the past couple of weeks without having (or giving anyone else) a nervous breakdown. Since Herb and I are both performing in the Reagle Christmas show, Ryan was with a babysitter for several evenings last week, all day last Sunday, every night Monday through Friday this week, and all day on Saturday and Sunday. A good bit of the time, he’s been with one of his grandmothers or his aunt and cousins, and at his own house, but he spent several times with a less familiar sitter, or being passed between two different sitters, and once he spent most of the day at the theater being watched by a bunch of different people. So when we got home at the end of yesterday’s performance, it was no surprise that he was starting to have a bit of a meltdown. All of the sitters were great with him, but I think he was just relieved to finally be with Mommy and Daddy.

He was so happy this morning to play with me in his playroom. A few times I went into the study to check my e-mail or into the laundry room to do something, and he immediately protested. Normally, I’d let him yell for a few minutes but after the week he’s had, I immediately went in to show him that I was there. And above and beyond reassuring him, I had missed playing with him so much! The past few mornings, even though I’d been home, I was so busy getting ready for the show and getting ready for the sitter that I hadn’t been able to play with him as much as usual, so having the chance to just relax and enjoy his company was a real pleasure.

There are days when I want to tear my hair out because he wants my constant attention, and sometimes I feel like I never have a second to myself except when he’s napping. But mornings like this morning remind me how much I enjoy being with him and just watching him play and learn and explore. He spent the morning marching around the basement with an old red bucket he’d found somewhere. He swung it back and forth for a while, giggling as it pivoted on its metal handle. He spent some time picking up various small toys and carefully dropping them into the bucket, then taking them out and strewing them all over the floor. At one point he even put it on his head like a hat, and then slid it down over his face and sang into it, chortling at the funny echo it made. If he’d been with a babysitter, I’d have missed that charming moment!

But at the same time, I know it’s good for him to spend time with other people. There will be times when we have no choice but to leave him with someone else for a while, either someone he already knows (like a grandmother or an aunt or a sitter he’s familiar with) or someone who’s a stranger or nearly a stranger to him (like a new babysitter). So we need to teach him that he’s okay when someone else is with him and Mommy and Daddy aren’t around. And he needs to learn that sometimes Mommy and Daddy go away for a while but that we’ll always come back, and that he’ll be well taken care of until we do.

So I guess the bottom line is that as difficult as this past week was for him and for me, it’s been good for him to learn that it’s okay when someone else is taking care of him. And it’s definitely been good for me to learn that it’s okay when someone else is taking care of him. But I’m still happiest when the someone taking care of him is me.

Adventures in Babysitting

Between rehearsals for and performances of the 40s Show last week, Ryan went through quite the range of babysitters. Of course, all the grandparents stepped up to the plate, but with that many babysitting slots, we also ended up hiring several different people to watch him, either at our house or even at the theater. He stayed with Grandma one time, with Bammy one time, with Julie a couple of times, with Colleen one time, with Ashley one time, with Katie one time, and even a whole roomful of Rockettes one time. He was quite a trouper about it, but by the time the week was over, I think he was very happy to be with Mommy and Daddy again for a while.

We’re really fortunate that he is so easy-going and was delighted to have new people to play with. Each time we left him, he was happily marching around with the new sitter, showing off his walking skills and his toys and his vocal abilities. He never cried when we left or even seemed unsure of himself. And according to all the reports, he was sweet and well-behaved. I have no doubt that he was happy and well taken care of on each occasion.

Even at the cast party at the end of the run, he was perfectly happy to trot around from person to person, sharing Pappy’s chips, studiously examining Michael’s guitar, tasting Bammy’s necklace, tugging at Cathy’s hair, and snuggling in Julie’s lap with his bottle. But by the end of the evening, every once in a while he would look over to me or Herb and reach out with a plaintive look on his face – not unhappy, just ready to be back in a pair of more familiar arms.

It was actually the perfect balance of being contented with having someone else look after him for a while but at the end of the day still wanting to be with Mommy or Daddy. Sure, he loves his grandparents and his aunts and uncles and cousins, and he loves playing with anyone who’s willing to play with him, but when he’s tired or hungry or cranky or just plain running out of steam, it’s Mommy and Daddy who can make it all better. It makes me feel treasured that I have the “magical Mommy power” of being one of the two people he wants to be with more than anyone else. Being a parent really is magical.