Custom Fit

I’ve let go of the illusion.  The one that tells me that I am in control.  Tab A into Slot B will equal good and obedient children.  I am frequently bemused and amused by the “I have plans on how I’d do it if I had kids” sect.  I wish I could bestow upon every one of them an implanted uterus.  Before I had heathens, I had big plans too.  I fully admit that my plan came from being a judgemental observer.  It was like when I voted for Clinton as an anti-Bush statement.  My blueprint was borne from all the brats I encountered.  Here was the general plan:

1)  Consistent discipline.  Firm, yet loving.  Let the child know what they have done wrong and replace the behavior with a positive action.

2)  Child will behave in public places.  If said child throws a temper tantrum in Target, I will leave immediately, even if my cart is full and I’m ready to check out.  Leave.  Immediately.

3)  Child will not watch TV.  They may read books, paint, listen to music and create with Play-Doh.

4)  Child will be bilingual.

5)  Child will be vegetarian.  I will teach child that being allowed to eat veggies is a privilege so they will never know that veggies are gross.

6)  Child will be clad daily in contrasting yet related pattern Hanna Andersson leggings and tops.

7)  Bedtime routines are important.  Every night there will be family dinner followed by bath time and reading.

Reality:

1)  I’ve done pretty OK with this one.  My children  (not child…children…another defection from The Plan) now put themselves in their own time-outs and ask for time-outs when they are sick of playing with one another.

2)  Walking down the aisles, screaming and flailing children in cart, I just say “Please stop sweeties.  Your mommy will be so upset that you weren’t behaving” every time a fellow shopper is in earshot.  By removing ownership from the situation, it makes it much less embarassing.

3)  Play-Doh makes a fucking mess.  Throw away every bit of it that is given to you for Christmas gifts.

4)  I frequently regret teaching my children their native language never mind an additional.  Being bilingual just doubles their chances at annoying the hell out of you.

5)  Eat a Baby Ruth and then eat a turnip.  Need I say more?

6)  Two of my children have been in sleepers for three days now.

7)  On a near-nightly basis, I fantasize about balling them up and tossing them (gently, of course!) into their beds from the hallway.  The bedtime routine usually consists of Special K silently shuffling the children away from me before I self-implode.

My plan was flawed.  I didn’t know how my heart would ache as I tried to make my Aspie eat a food with texture that ended up making him gag.  There went Rule 5.  I didn’t allow for a girl with emotions that are shockingly intense and swing like a metronome (hence my disowning her at major retailers).  I just…I never factored in the human element.  It took me awhile to figure it out.  I still wanted to stick with my must be done checklist.  Because it was, you know…my plan.  Parenting became a lot less frustrating once I realized that my hard and fast rules, my rights and wrongs, weren’t necessarily what my children needed.  My kids are all on the non-brat program but the approach for each of them is customized (though all plans are  Play-Doh free) which makes life feel more manageable for us all.  I think it makes them feel like “OK, someone understands me in this world.”  And I think everyone should feel that way…that at least one person in their universe gets it.

I applaud all planmakers.  I applaud you and I laugh at you.  Applaud you because you care enough to think about what type of human you want to raise in this world.  Laugh at you because I know what you do not yet know.  When it is you and your little human, and you must relate to their will in real time, the plan book falls away.  Just know that when your spawn and a plate of uneaten peas mirrors the Waco standoff, your vision must be majorly editable.

Today is a perfect example of the importance of adapting.  I picked Veruca up this morning with the same trepidation I feel every morning.  Those few moments where her current state of mind is still unknown to me.  I never predict what kind of day it is going to be with this child.  Without a doubt, the most challenging of the three as the stakes are always different…every minute even.  Some days sadness dissolves into joy which explodes into anger and evaporates into exhausted sleep (she, not me).  So I always approach her without expectation until I know what I’m dealing with.  And I tailor the plan of the day (second) to the circumstance.  Anyway, this morning was a cuddle thing.  It involved an oversized chair and blankets and stillness.  She wrapped her Target sleeper clad arms around my neck, locked her saucer eyes on me and said in a solemn voice “I’m going to be good to you today Mommy.  You can bet on that.”  And then she kissed me.  And I kissed her back…enjoying the minute-by-minute plan I’ve designed just for her…and me.

Tags: children, parenting