Being a parent

I have read a lot of biography and often
people wrote sentences like: "my parents never let me go into their room after some point, figuring I was too old to really need comfort any more. That was the end of the protected world of childhood."

I have read a lot of parenting essays and often people wrote sentences like: "we thought we would never get them out of our room, but we just said one night, 'you have to sleep in your bed now' and after two nights, they stayed."

I have read a lot of childhood abuse memoir where people tell their parents about horrific experiences and the parents say "why didn't you tell me? I had no idea!"

I have had a lot of conversations with people from large families who sung praises to benign neglect, and who were quite certain that our labor intensive parenting styles will make it far harder for our children to know themselves realistically.

You cannot win. The balance lies before us but staying balanced between Scylla and Charibdis is difficult even with enough sleep and a supportive society.

All you can do is pay your money, make your choices and watch your kids grow into the fullness of their specific humanity. Life is imperfect, dangerous, has an unhappy ending in the best case, and is such an impossibly wondrerous experience to share with your successors.

My daughter has recently started to opt out of my evening reading sessions, preferring to read to herself. Was I proud? No. I was annoyed. I haven't finished my list of important things to read to her. But I have transmitted my own prickly independent style of learning, for better or for worse not being an issue. She is herself. I am myself. She is my kid. She also gets in half trouble for staying up late reading, as I did from my book loving mother. I can't wait to see what happens tonight when the trolley ride is over.

Rffff

-- Posted from a Cell Phone