M is for Moderation

My kids cried today because no babysitter was coming over and they would be stuck with just me.

I wasn't annoyed at them for wanting someone else. I felt a sense of relief that over the years, I have brought other people into their lives. To add depth. To add variety. To add another layer of security and joy for them. How could I be upset that they cried for Daddy last week when they were stuck with me? The fact that they want other people and not just me all the time is a gift. Because I can't always be with them.

There was a time when I had a hard time letting other people parent my kids. I was paranoid about the mistakes that people might make around my kids (like giving the wrong dose of medicine) or offering them a viewpoint that I disagree with (Hummers are great!), or just that it was wrong for me to be off doing things for myself or by myself (because somehow being a parent meant that I was to sacrifice everything in my life for the creatures that grew within me). So I was with my kids every day. I dragged them to the store and was frustrated with them when they demanded my attention when what really needed was some alone time. A chance to reflect on the changes that took place within me as I transitioned from a woman with dogs and a writing career to a lactating, over-tired mother with little sense of direction.

But eventually I did hire childcare, drop my kids at the daycare at the gym, and get sitters so that I could go learn salsa or drive to a concert at the beach. I slowly learned that my kids would be okay if other people took care of them, changed their diapers, made their dinners, read them books and tucked them into bed. Letting someone else do those things does not mean that I love my children any less. Although there certainly have been times when I've questioned my love for them. But I do love them, especially when I don't spend all of my time with them.

It seems silly to have taken six years to learn all of this -- and it's remarkably obvious -- but I now know that it really is quality and not quantity.

I had the best Mother's Day ever this year. I was without kids, I slept in, and had brunch with one of my best friends. It was a joy and there wasn't any guilt at all. I've realized that guilt serves no purpose in parenting or in other types of human relationships. The only thing it does is make us feel inadequate, as if we've fallen short of some expectation (set by whom exactly?), and takes up time as we wonder how we could have done things differently.

And after time away from them, I look forward to playing games with them, playing baseball in the yard, to creating bubbles with giant wands and large, soap-filled bowls.

I don't have the time, the energy, or the desire to second-guess every choice I make as a parent or as a person. But as our lives evolve and schedules change and relationships wander down different paths, I'm grateful that my kids like me in moderate doses. The feeling is mutual.

A new reprieve

C started his new preschool last Thursday. Phew. Finally.

I'm just not cut out for this full-time-parenting thing. At least I'm not cut out for it with my second, and very active boy. I was happy to learn that this preschool has NEVER kicked a kid out for bad behavior. Sure they've had um, challenging, kids before. But the undesirable behaviors are used as a learning experience, not as reason for expulsion.

Teacher Friend helped me feel less guilty for feeling a little overwhelmed with having him all day, everyday. She said, "Some people are cut out for it (full-time parenting) and some aren't. The ones that are, are called nannies."

Or babysitters. Or childcare providers. Or teachers. Here. Here.

I can almost feel the the tension seeping out of my pores.

Expelled!

C is no longer welcome at his preschool. I just found out Wednesday, and I was initially feeling overwhelmed and frustrated. I was told that he continues to hurt other kids and can be disruptive during nap time.

I knew that there were having trouble with him occasionally. I knew that he had hit another child with a toy, and I knew that he did not nap one day and some of the other kids started to emulate him. But I didn't know that it had gotten to a point where they didn't want him at the school. His problems seem like typical behaviors for two year olds. After a few hours of reflection, my initial feelings faded, and I decided that they are just old (the couple that runs the school is in their mid- to late-60s) and they don't want any kids that aren't super mellow. R would have been the perfect preschooler for this hippy school with the chicken coop, bird aviary, and organic vegetable garden. I used to hear that he was "such a delight." Turns out they were talking about R -- R would join his brother at the preschool a couple of days a week after kindergarten.

C was welcome to stay though the end of the month, since we had already paid for those days, but I decided that yesterday would be his last day. If they don't want him there, then I certainly don't want him to be there. Fortunately they refunded my money for the remaining days. With Christmas just days away, I'm sure I'll find another way to spend that $240. Oh wait, I already spent it.

The Google childcare gaffe

Given that my husband works at Google, I have been sitting on the New York Times piece from July 5, called, On Day Care, Google Makes a Rare fumble. My mind has been stewing over how even fewer employees will have access to the new in-house childcare and how only the richest of the rich will be able to afford to send their kids to the elite program which will cost upwards of $57,000 per year for two kids, according to the NY Times article.

When Father in Chief started at Google almost two years ago, I was excited to know that there was an in-house childcare program, even if it did have a long waiting list. If it was run by Google or even if it was Google-approved (as its program was), then it had to be worth waiting for. In the meantime, we searched out alternate programs run by the same company called Children's Creative Learning Center. Preschooler in Chief has been in the CCLC system for about a year and a half and we have been completely impressed with the teachers, the facilities, and the overall experience. It seems to be a top-notch program and we feel fortunate to have found it.

But now that Google is moving away from CCLC to its own privately run school following the "preschool philosophy called Reggio Emilia," according the article, I believe that Google has done a huge disservice to its employees. Moreover, it has done a huge disservice to Silicon Valley, and to corporate America in general. Why? Because at a time when every company wants to be more like Google, Google could have come up with a comprehensive plan that would have demonstrated that affordable, quality childcare can be provided to all employees. They could have done it. They could have shown the world that it was not only possible, but worth doing. It would have been the ultimate way to contribute to the greater good. To value all employees at all income levels.

Yes, the food perks are great. The bikes are great. The solar power is great. The cookies at 3pm are great. But more than all of that, employees need a safe place to put their kids during the day so that they can work.

No it isn't Google's responsibility to provide me or anyone else with solid, affordable childcare, but they could have done it. And that is what makes me the saddest. Because deep down I have always believed that Google really does care about its employees. It really does want to do the right thing. It really does want to set an example for the rest of the world that this is how things should be done and can be done. But I guess I've just been drinking too much of the organic, in-house cool-aide.

The sun'll come out tomorrow

It's amazing how a little childcare has helped me hate the annoying and naughty parts of my kids a little bit less and like the silly and inquisitive parts of my kids a little bit more.

This is only week three of recurring, part-time childcare--Preschooler in Chief at school; Toddler in Chief with the nanny--and I've seen a change in the way I spend time with my boys. Why? Because it's quality time. I look forward to the days when it's just the three of us of exploring and enjoying our adventures. And after all that exploring and enjoying, I know that I'll have other days to catch up on all of my stuff and household chores. And there is time to work too! Imagine that. That means I can spend time with the wee ones without trying to cram shopping and laundry and telephone calls and query letters in between puzzles and naps. I don't have to forfeit my attempts at working to do fun things with my kids. And I don't have to forfeit quality time with my kids so that I can work. In this scenario, everyone is getting some of what they need.

We've been to the beach and the zoo and the park and the farmers' market. And we're having fun. I'm not cursing under my breath because I need to do other stuff. I'm not sticking them in front of the TV so that I can make a phone call. I'm not wishing I could run away and leave it all behind. Nope. I like my kids again. Well, I like them most of the time. That is, all except when PIC whines or TIC pees on the fresh sheets after a bath before the diaper is securely fastened (although the peeing thing was sort of funny, in a perfect baby timing kind of way).

It's almost like I've had a glimpse of the Whole MIC. The sane, together, complex woman/mother/wife who does more than just run a 24/7 childcare center. As a result, I don't have to clench my teeth as the baby starts crying a bit too early in the morning. There will still be good days and bad days. And it doesn't matter. I can handle it. I will get through it. I'll let it roll off of me like rain on a duck. I know that a break for me--whether that break involves writing or yoga or grocery shopping without incessant demands--is only a day away.

I've run out of excuses--shit!

I'm about to venture out into the land of the living, the land of the working, the land of laptops and lattes. I hired childcare yesterday--just 10 hours a week--and while I'm totally excited, I'm a little worried about actually having the time to work. It's a lot of pressure. I know it doesn't make any sense. But recently, it's been so easy to not work because it's really impossible to work when you have a wee one pulling at the power cords under the desk and another one constantly demanding food and attention. But once the childcare starts, what excuse will I have?

I guess I have some fear and it is twofold--fear of failure (can I actually write a book?) and fear of rejection (will anyone want to publish my book?). I guess there are some other fears in there too... Am I organized enough to write a book? Am I organized enough to write the proposal? Will an agent want to represent me? I know I'm getting a little ahead of myself, and I will try to not let the potential downers thwart my enthusiasm for my project. There is much work to do. And with most of my writing, I will give a piece of myself away as I write and write and write. But saturating my work with myself does not necessarily equal success. I can still feel the rejection from my recent submission to from Brain, Child magazine, and it feels about as good as sunburn.

Regardless, I will push forward. I will persevere. I will feel good about working towards a goal that I believe in. And I'll try to remember that getting burned is something that happens sometimes when you venture out into the sun.

It's all about me, me, me

Toddler in Chief started preschool today. Father in Chief dropped him off and I wasn't sad at all. Rather I'm quite elated to start this New Year in a new direction, and it's all about getting me out of my rut. Sure TIC is ready to be in a new environment with new people and new grown-ups and new toys. But lets face it, I'm ready to have him in a new environment with other people so I don't have to listen to his shouting and whining. He sure is exercising his ego recently and he's testing all the limits. So preschool is just the thing. It's a weekly 10-hour break--ahem, I mean quality pre-kindergarten educational experience--for TIC.

But that's not all. Another bonus of TIC being in school is that I'll get to have some one-on-one time with Baby in Chief. But moreover, the real bonus is some time for me, me, me. And it will not include couch time and a bin of Linzer chocolates.

I have bigger plans than that. I'm excited to hunker down and write while BIC is sleeping (oh joyful three naps a day!!). I even joined the gym, and it has a lovely childcare center for BIC. He tried it out today and found that napping in someone's arms while mom is out of sight is quite lovely. Yoga seems to be my kind of exercise. There some stretching. Then you lie on the floor with you eyes closed for a while. Then you do more stretching. More eyes closed. Aaaah. Or perhaps I should say: "Owww-uummmm." But I am very sore after all that stretching. I have not done any official exercising in a long, long time. Yes, the baby weight is long gone--breastfeeding is the best exercise on the planet--but my muscles are sadly neglected.

I even have a weekly writing date scheduled with Aspiring Writer Friend. Today is the first one. I can't wait! So me, me, me. It has been a long time since I have put me first for anything. TIC will be fine. BIC will be fine. And I'm not guilty at all. Then again, it's only January 4.

Sign me up, Scotty!

I've never been a huge fan of sending little kids to preschool or having them enrolled in too many structured activities. There is so much to learn in everyday life and soon enough they will be locked into routines and schedules and structure.

But now I have a brand new baby. And that seems to change everything--especially my attitude.

Toddler in Chief has been participating in a Spanish "transitional" preschool at a friend's house for two hours twice a week. This started several weeks before the arrival of Baby in Chief. I figured since it's at a friend's house, it's no big deal. He'll be with buddies from his playgroup in a familiar setting. It's like a playdate without me there. And maybe he'll pick up a few Spanish words along the way. He'll get used to having another adult in charge without me there. He'll have some special playtime with friends. I'll have some alone time with BIC.

But it doesn't seem that two hours twice a week is enough.

So now I'm going to have to hunker down and find a real program for him. I'm thinking three days a week for three hours a day sounds like a nice break, ahem, I mean a good amount of time for him to be out there learning new things in a new and positive environment without me.

It's so obvious, I didn't even see it

Even when some things seem so obvious we don't always notice them until someone else points it out to us. I'm thinking of my post from last week about floundering through life without knowing where I'm headed.

I never used to identify myself with what I did for a living when I was working full time. It was just a *part* of who I was. I wonder if because I no longer have this thing occupying a good chunk of my life that I feel the need to identify with some kind of thing outside of being a parent. I used to love telling people I'm a writer and I still do, but it doesn't have that same satisfying ring that it used to.

Perhaps I'm floundering because I wish I had something to identity with. Then again, I think Babs might have hit something that I hadn't even thought of...and it seems so obvious now that I think about it. She wrote that because my fabulous part-time writing job is about parenting, my non-parenting work-break is all about the thing I'm trying to get a break from. So it's almost no break at all. And my writing is not just about parenting in general. It's about my life as a parent. It's about my kid. And it's about how I handle different parenting issues in our lives. It's almost as if my writing job is more intense than my actually parenting because I really have to dig into my parenting self and ponder, contemplate, and wonder about how I do things or want to do things.

It's almost no break at all.

That doesn't mean I don't like my job. I think it just means that I need other stuff in my life. Mostly, I think I need to hire more childcare so that I can go out and take a class--a non-writing, non-parenting class that's just for me and no one else. I need some selfish time to really detach myself from this seven-day-a-week job that I love most of the time...except when it makes me forget how to do anything else.

Torn over two-and-a-half

I hear the voices: "I am just maxed out on what I can do for him/her at home." Father in Chief was even talking about it with some other dads at work. The need to send the kids off to school to get be exposed to new people and new activities and a more stimulating environment than what we have at home.

But now I'm starting to buy into it. Toddler in Chief does spend too much time playing with those matchbox cars. He doesn't have enough stuff to keep his mind growing and learning. And I'm maxed out on what I can do for him. He plays while I ignore him while I'm trying to work. I prop him in front of Blue's Clues while I'm on deadline. I set him up with some books/trains/markers/matchbox cars and then head off to take a shower, fold the laundry, start dinner. What is he really learning while he's trapped here in this house with me?

I don't know how I'm feeling right now other than totally confused. I'm sure part of it is the sense of loss that I feel because many of the kids we know are off in preschool or have moved away. But honestly, I don't know if all the jumbled thoughts in my head are my own or if they are just reflecting back the thoughts of so many of the women that I know.

Maybe it's a bit of guilt because I want to write more. And with him leaving little tornados around the house, perhaps my subconscious is starting to think that preschool is a good idea. If he's not in the house, he's not getting into stuff and leaving messes all over. If he's out at preschool, he's creating messes for someone else to clean up. If he's being cared for by someone else, then I get a break and do whatever I want for a while, guilt-free. Especially because it would be a learning environment.

Whatever it is I'm feeling, I'm very torn over not providing enough stuff for my kid to do or that I'm not attentive enough to help keep his mind occupied with new and exciting learning activities. All this in spite of the fact that I'm a strong believer in the notion that boredom is good for kids. Am I against preschool for two-and-a-half-year olds because I'm trying to defend my choices, as Anonymous accused me of?

Is preschool replacing playgroups?

One of Toddler in Chief's playgroups has all but dissolved. All of the women are just weeks from Laborland and Newbornville, so they aren't making it to the park. I'm sure they're home feeling large and are focused on finalizing the nest.

For TIC, those weekly groups are his primary socialization with other kids. Sure we go to the park and the zoo and have play dates, but those groups are a staple in his life. Perhaps the absent moms aren't so worried about a lack of socialization because many of their kids are enrolled in preschool. To me, it seems so strange to put a 2 1/2-year-old kid in preschool. But the moms have been pleased with the results because they combine chunks of socialization, with structured activities, and other adults in authoritative rolls.

Could it be that preschools are replacing playgroup? Now that we have moms' night out without kids, why do we need playgroups? It was really all about the moms anyway. The fact that the kids got to play together was an extra benefit the way a dollop of whip cream enhances a tasty mug of hot chocolate. And if there is a program doing what the playgroups were doing--socializing the kids--then why bother?

Sam over at PlayIsTheWork is on the other end of the spectrum. She had a post earlier this month that talked about why her five-year-olds are not in kindergarten. Rather, they started pre-K this year. She wrote, "One more year to further develop their social, emotional and yes, their academic independence before being faced with the rigors of kindergarten." I'm a big advocate of having lots of time for free-play, downtime, and boredom. Sam wrote:

"...children are overstressed and over scheduled, and we parents are suffering under unreasonable expectations and a pervasive sense of guilt. Too much of childhood has been taken over by preparations for adulthood--to the point that young kids’ afternoons are being scheduled with an eye toward college admissions. If it were not so harmful to parents and kids alike, it would be funny."

There are zillions of activities we're supposed to have our kids in so that they are well-adjusted and well-rounded by the time they start school. But sometimes all that activity seems like overkill. I'd love a three-hour break while my kid is in preschool, but not at the price of pushing my kid into a structured environment too soon. A lifetime of structure isn't that far away.

Work changed the way I spend time with TIC

A couple of months ago when I was working on my freelance gig, something happened. Instead of fretting all the time because I was dropping Toddler in Chief off with the sitter two or three days a week, I felt great. And it was almost more fun to be with my yard-stick-sized buddy, when we were together.

Instead of worrying that I wasn't spending enough quality time with him, I changed the way I spend time with him--and I didn't even realize it until just recently.

I started making a conscious effort to have "quality time" with him. Not that I wasn't having quality time with him before. But before I was around all the time and I would drift into and out of his projects. He'd be playing and I'd come over and set up the wooden train track and then disappear. I'd come over and get out the crayons and tape up a clean piece of paper for the easel and then disappear.

A lot of that still happens--even though I'm not doing that particular freelance thing anymore--but I started being more conscious of my time with him and the activities we do together. Perhaps because I was conscious of the fact that there was less time with him overall?

When I wasn't working at all, we were just together all the time. But when I was working I had to think about when we were together and what fun things we would do together. This gets back to something I wondered about a long time back--do moms that work actually spend more quality time with their kids than moms who don't work.

I don't know the answer to that, and I'm not pushing one choice over another. But I'm just wondering, maybe the more time you're away from your kid, the more quality stuff you try to cram into the time you do have together. And when you don't work (at an official, paying job), the quality time is still there, but just spread out over a full day--between changing the sheets, cleaning paint off the rug, and trying to find a home for all of the photos trapped in my digital camera.

Although, it seems like the more experience I get at being a mom, and the older and more mischievous Toddler in Chief becomes, he is increasingly a bigger part of my regular daily activities, which in turn becomes part of our quality time. Giggling while I unsuccessfully try to fold the fitted sheets, helping pull clothes out of the dryer, taking his turn emailing Grammy and Grampy, and deciding I should get apples instead of pears, is becoming quality time because he can contribute in his own two-year-old way.

No matter what the reason, I like it.

The "Laziest Mother" award goes to...

ME.

I don't know what happens to my parenting skills whenever a grandparent comes to town. And I can only imagine what Toddler in Chief's grandparents must think of me whenever they come for a visit.

I am not normally a lazy parent. But when family is around, I deserve the laziest-parent award. My mother has been visiting for nearly two weeks and I'm getting lazier by the day. TIC asks for food and I ignore him. He wants help getting his cup off the table and I walk away. He cries for attention and I leave the relatives to their own devices to figure him out. I can't wait to get away, to fully ignore my child for days on end. It's like having a full-time nanny. And it's like the warm sun itself.

When TIC wakes up in the morning, I just let him cry until a someone goes to lift him out of his crib and change him out of his soggy diaper. I stay in bed for an extra 30 minutes. When I finally appear, I'm unapologetic.

I've even been honing my manipulation skills.

When asked if Father in Chief and I are thinking about another baby, I say: "if you lived here, then we'd probably already have another. It's hard when you don't have any family nearby." I've been trying to get my mother--along with any and every family member--to move here. I get so exhausted being the full-time parent without anyone to lean on, especially during business hours.

When I confessed this manipulation to Therapist Friend, she concurred. "If I had family nearby, I'd already have another baby," she said. "Shit, maybe I'd already have two more!"

And truth be told, this "special hands-on time" with TIC is a treat for the grandparents. And my laziness is temporory; it expires when we drop the relatives at the airport.

Preschool by any other name...

Something happened to Toddler in Chief's playgroup last week. One of the kids was missing. Her mom was missing too. There was an eerie absence to the group. It was Halloween-esque, even though pumpkin season doesn't officially start until September 22.

Our meeting tomorrow will be even smaller as the absentee list triples as two other kids start preschool. But more than just a scheduling wrench thrown to the meeting that has taken place for more than 100 weeks, I'm fascinated by the decision to send two-year-olds to school. They're two. They're still wearing diapers.

On the other hand, I totally get it.

Marketing Manager Mom told me that she just feels maxed out on what she can provide for her daughter at home. And so often she finds that she can't wait for her daughter's next nap, so that she can get a break. I can relate to that. There are many days when I anxiously await that coveted and sacred nap time or bedtime so that I can get some of my projects accomplished, uninterrupted by a little voice and sticky hands that want, want, want. And preschool will provide a stimulating environment with all kinds of new toys and new songs and new art projects (that someone else gets to clean up).

There's also something to be said for getting kids used to being in a structured environment that is run by an adult that is not a parent or family member. That's what prompted Bay Area PR Friend to sign her son up for a once-a-week preschool program.

That, and the underlying pressure from other women signing their kids up for preschool. I can't help but feel that they know something I don't know. Or that my kid is going to fall behind socially and academically because he's not in preschool and won't be until next fall at the earliest.

Still, TIC gets tons of socialization from our weekly playgroups through the mothers club and from his play dates through our shared time with the sitter. And while hours with the sitter and hours and preschool both cost a fortune, maybe its easier to justify spending money on preschool to get the dedicated and much-needed break from your kid than it is to spend money on extra childcare. Maybe it's all a mental: childcare is frivolous, while preschool is essentially?

Then again, many of these moms who are signing up their kids for preschool are pregnant. And it might just be easier to make this transition to being away from mom before Baby No. 2 comes along. They are nesting in a way that gets the kid acclimated to a new schedule, a new experience before the sibling shocker rocks the family unit. So regardless of whether the break is for mom or for stimulating educational programs for tots, breaks--in whatever shape or form--from our 24/7 job as parents are golden.

One giant guilt trip

During the past year I have written about my personal journey with parental guilt.

There is guilt because I send Toddler in Chief off to the sitter's a couple of times a week. There is guilt because I'm not spending enough quality time with him. There is guilt because I haven't been able to find meaningful part-time work. There's guilt because I feel like I must not be trying hard enough. There is guilt because I'm not continuing my education. There's guilt for not doing enough dusting or laundry. No matter what part of my life I examine, there seems to be guilt sprinkled around all of my decisions, regardless how large or small they seem.

Mirium over at Playground Revolution wrote an interesting piece last month about working moms and guilt. She wrote:

Working Mothers Should Not Feel Guilty. We should feel, and rightfully, mad, frustrated, tired, torn in many directions, ambivalent, and all sorts of other emotions. But we should not feel guilty. Working dads don't feel guilty. Guilt does not help.

What about the at-home moms? Or maybe we carry enough guilt for all the moms, working or not. Maybe I need to step back and think about those comments. Does Father in Chief feel guilty about anything? Or is this guilt-thing tied strictly to motherhood? Is it just hardwired into our personas, like nurturing or a milk let-down whenever a lactating mother hears a baby cry, even if it's not her own?

Maybe my guilt is just a personal problem, something I need to endure like sharp teeth on a sore nipple? So I try and step back and determine what those underlying issues are so that I can fix them or work on them in therapy so that I can go on living my life as a parent sans guilt.

Perhaps, I'm confusing other feelings I'm experiencing with feelings of guilt. I'm definitely torn over what I should do with my life professionally and personally. But when I'm focusing on one facet--like with my freelance writing--I was feeling guilty for "neglecting" the other part of my life, aka my son. I think it's hard to feel torn without feelings of guilt.

We all know the saying: with every choice we have to give something up. TIC was not neglected when he was having a play date with the sitter, but escaping those feelings are a skill I haven't yet mastered.

A money-losing venture

Now that I'm plugging away on this latest story, Toddler in Chief is spending more time with the sitter. That is directly correlated to money leaving the checking account at faster rates than normal.

Three days last week, two days this week. And that equals cha-ching. No one ever said child care was cheap. I'm done reporting, which feels great. Now I just have six pages of notes to transform into something worth reading, and more importantly, worth printing, so that I get paid. As I've said before, this is not all about the money. (It's really about the fame and the glory ;-) Seriously, it's about bulking up my portfolio with recent clips and for mental stimulation so that I can continue to form cohesive thoughts and perform tasks that have nothing to do with assembling the wooden train tracks so that TIC can play with Thomas.

I don't want to go broke accomplishing this.

Okay, It's true. Father in Chief and I will be just fine if I pay for 10 or 15 hours of child care per week. I just don't want to lose money on this venture. I'd be okay with breaking even. I just hate the idea of paying more for child care to pursue my writing career than I actually bring home. And that is the reality of this story. It's not a huge story and at 25 cents a word, it doesn't amount to much compared to the amount of time I do researching and playing phone tag and interviewing and writing and then all the follow-up work with my editor. I know I'll become more efficient and disciplined with my time the more I write. But for now, it's a losing venture.

I know it's good for TIC to get used to being with other care providers, so that is worth something too. Mostly, why do I feel like my career isn't worth spending money on? I'm worth it. Note to self: stop being so hard of myself. Repeat: I'm worth it. Confession: TIC is with the sitter and I'm blogging. So maybe if I hunkered down and focused while TIC was with the sitter, I'd get more done and would need to pay for fewer hours of child care and would not be in a money-losing venture. Hhmm...

Falling into the parenting trap

I've heard it from friends whose kids are older than mine, and I never thought I would fully understand. But the older my son gets (he just turned two on Saturday), the more I get it. I can't give my child everything he needs.

When he was a tiny baby, I personally pretty much had everything he needed because he needed a whole lot less: my breasts, along with a clean diaper now and again, were just about everything. Other than that, he slept or sat propped in his vibrating, bouncy chair and swatted at little toys arched above his head.

But the older he gets, it seems like I don't have enough to give. I think this deficiency gets back (at least partially) to the whole list of things to do during the day that have very little to do with being a good parent. Yes, I'm present. Yes, I read with my child, but it's usually only before nap time and bedtime. Yes, I play with my child, draw on the sidewalk with chalk with him, tickle him, take him to play with friends at the park. But I think most of the time, I set him down and offer him a toy to occupy him while I'm trying to cook a meal, clean, toss in a load of laundry, organize the recycling bins, brush my teeth, take a shower, read email, blog.

When Attorney Friend #2 reached this point in her parenting, she decided it was time for her daughter to go into daycare. And she went back to work. She acknowledged that she couldn't give her daughter everything she needed--enough playtime, enough learning tools, enough stimulation and social interaction. At daycare, her daughter would be in an environment designed for learning, playing, and socializing.

Toddler in Chief is with his child-care person for nine hours a week. During those hours, I know he's learning so much and fully engaged in playing and reading and learning. He'll sing a new song, books will be piled high from the reading marathon, and stacks of drawings will litter the ground beneath the easel. That is quality time. He's being stimulated and he's learning because the person taking care of him isn't in her own space wondering when she's going to get the laundry done. Those aren't her dishes in the dishwasher waiting to be put into their proper cupboards. I've also noticed this on the flip-side. When I'm at a friend's house watching her child for a couple of hours, I'm fully engaged in what the kids are doing. There aren't any domestic distractions.

I've even recently started turning on the television so that I can have 25 minutes of time to putter around the house. As a result, he's added a few words to his lexicon: "teevee, "Bee-uuu-zzz Queue-zzz," and "Tel-lee-tub-bee."

Perhaps because I'm home and I supposedly have so much time, the quality time with my son waits. It gets pushed to the bottom of that to-do list. Maybe working moms spend more quality time with their kids because they long to be with their kids all day? They don't have time to do the chores in the first place, so they aren't fretting because they aren't caught up. I'm with my kid all day and I wish I could get my stuff done. I long to be reading the book for my book club. I long to be taking a long, hot shower, or a nap or a chat with a friend.

I'm sure a lot of this comes from a variety of societal expectations about what I should be doing as a parent. When I was a kid, my mom didn't have hours and hours to sit and entertain us. We did what she did. We grocery shopped. We helped sort the laundry. We helped cook. We participated in life. And I think I turned out okay. I know my son is too young for some of those regular-life tasks, but I think it's good for him to make his own fun, to play by himself.

I'm sure I'm just falling victim to the guilty-hyper-parenting trap. Nothing ever seems just right.