Someday I'll Be A Parent

I am not a mother.

Not YET anyway.  Unless you count 4 birds, a snake and a French Bulldog as "kids" which I kind of do.  But they're not human.  That doesn't take away the fact that when I first got my little 4-pound French Bulldog puppy that I was instantly, fiercely protective over her and cuddled her to my chest (like I would a human child) and told her that I love her and that I'll protect her always.  It didn't mean I wasn't fearful that I'd step on her, drop her, forget to feed her, and so on.  I remember the first day she was home, she was sleeping in her little bed and I had to come closer so I could check that she was breathing.  I thought that it would be so unfair for "God" (or whoever) to bring this little, innocent creature into my life and let me fall in love with her and then snatch her away.  Anyway, Abigail is now 1 year and 3 months old and is doing just fine, so I guess I did something right!

I used to be a nanny for these 2 kids that live across the street from my parents.  A girl (now 7) and a boy (now 5.)  The girl, L, was 4 when I met them and the boy, S, was 2.  I started out as their babysitter, then I was their nanny, now I just babysit and stand in for their nanny when she has a schedule conflict.  But let me tell you something.  I love those children.  Like, really... I love them deeply in my heart.  In my SOUL.  Those little sweeties dug their way into my deepest self and got their little hooks in me.  

I remember one night, putting the kids to bed, L asked me to rub her back.  Her eyes drifted closed and her breathing evened out under my hand.  I remember staring at her and thinking, I have never felt like this before.  I know she's not my daughter, but she was in my care.  When she and her little brother look at me with their huge, trusting, liquid brown eyes I know that I am responsible for them in this moment.  Their needs are being fulfilled by me right now.  As I rubbed four-year-old L's back and watched her fall asleep, I could feel in the air how comfortable she was with me.  And I loved her so much.

Now, L is 7.  Her birthday was in January.  S turned 5 in December.  I can hardly believe I'm saying those numbers, and now I know how parents feel when they say "they grow up so fast!"  They really do!!!  L and S used to run up and hug me, climb all over me like I was a tree, grab my head, kiss me all over my face and yell in my ear "I LOVE YOU MISS KATE!!!!"  Now, a big seven-year-old, L comes off the bus to me every Wednesday (when I stand in for their nanny) and walks up to me and calmly says, "hello."  No hug, no screaming, no hysterical giggling.  I love L at 7, but I miss her at 4.  She's still L.  No question.  But I miss the little things about 4 that I don't get to see at 7.

S is young enough that he'll still run into my arms, climb up me, bury his face in my hair and say, "I love MY Miss Kate!"  But he's growing up too.  Now he can read at a 2nd or 3rd grade level (did I mention these kids are brilliant as well as beautiful??) and he walks around half the time with his nose buried in a chapter book!  5 years old!!  It's the cutest thing, but I miss him "laser-ing" me with random household objects, "attacking" me with spaghetti noodles.  

But they do say the funniest things!  A few weeks ago I was standing in for their nanny on a Tuesday and we were playing Chutes & Ladders before we took L to violin class.  I told them I used to play Chutes & Ladders when I was little, but I always lost.  "Like you had really bad luck?" L asked.  "Yeah," I told her.  "Bad luck."  S piped up from the other side of the board, "That happened to the Boston Red Sox!"  I had to laugh.  How could I not?  First of all, it was funny because he was right, but mostly because that was about the last thing I ever expected him to say!

Another good one came a week or two ago.  Their mom had made 5 cookies, two for each kid and one extra for me, on a Wednesday afternoon.  (She makes a batch of dough and refrigerates it so she can make a few cookies at a time to eliminate temptation.  Temptation to her or to the kids I don't know.  She's 8 and a half months pregnant with their 3rd child. LOL!)  Well, I didn't want the cookie.  L said "Mommy can I have it?"  Her mom responded with, "Baby wants it."  Meaning she wanted it.  L thought that was unacceptable.  She dropped her head on the counter and whined, "But mommy the baby probably doesn't even know what a cookie is and she probably just thinks it tastes like salad!"  Oh man.  I worked hard to keep a straight face over that one.

Here's the thing.  I've seen on blogs, in articles, heard in public, etc., parents that are so incredibly strict in their parenting!  I remember when I was like 16 I was babysitting with my friend for a family from her church.  They had 3 kids, 2 boys and a girl, all 5 and under.  I remember as the parents were leaving the mom said, "Okay, you can have one cup of juice.  After that it's milk or water!"  I was thinking, are you nuts? 

Or take my friend E for example.  I love E dearly, but... she's kinda crazy.  She absolutely refuses to feed her daughter anything with any kind of processed stuff in it.  At all.  Period.   She even makes her own almond butter and coconut milk!  Like.. I understand feeding your kids organic when possible but.. that's a little extreme.

I know I have an eating disorder now, but other than that I'm okay, you know?  Here's how I grew up:  I drank juice.  All the time.  My mom cooked dinner most nights and it was usually healthy.  I wasn't a big fan of milk but I did like yogurt, so my mom didn't press it.  I've never really broken a bone so I guess my calcium intake was sufficient.  I took a fruit-flavored vitamin pill every morning.  I liked orange best.  We went out to dinner sometimes, and when we did I was allowed to order pretty much whatever I liked.  I could eat pizza and cake at birthday parties.  I could have pizza and cake at my birthday party!  I could have soda.  My parents took me to McDonalds once in a while.  I ate meat.  I ate gluten.  My mom occasionally bought treats like Doritos or Milano cookies.  She and I would bake together sometimes and eat what we baked.

I was allowed to climb trees, ride my bike, rollerblade, sleep in a tent in the backyard, build forts, go swimming, go to summer camps.  I had sleepovers.  I stayed up late-ish on the weekends.  I had a Nintendo Gameboy.  I went to Discovery Zone, Superplay, Chuck E. Cheese, Laserport, and I didn't have to douse myself in hand-sanitizer every 5 minutes.

All that and I survived.  Kind of miraculous, according to today's standards!  But those are my standards.  When I'm a mom, my kid(s) will be raised in kind.  I think they'll turn out okay, too.