Something ALL Parents Need to Know....

For the past few days (7 and counting) I have had children in my care. The first two days I agreed to watch my friend's kids, the weekend was my daughter's birthday so we had a sleepover, the next two days I was back to watching the kids from the first two days, and then here I am today with one of those children and all but one of my little cousins (they just wanted to come to my house).

Right now, it's nap time for the smallest child here and as I am lying there, singing the little guy to sleep.... my mind began to walk down this crazy path called parenting. I was thinking about some things that I do differently with my children that my friend does with hers and how her children act differently from mine. I was thinking about some of our differences in opinion and how we like some of the same things but also like things that are different.

I was thinking about her, and my parents, and my aunts and uncles, and even my grandparents and how different we all are in the things that we do with our children and, most importantly,

I was thinking about how awesome each and every single one of our children are in their own way.

As I was thinking about the differences between myself and my little sister, or my kids and my friend's kids, or my parents and other people's parents, I was able to see that success was prevalent in the lives of all of us as adults. And so far, none of us or our babies have exhibited any type of serious warnings that could give off the idea that they won't be perfectly fine once they reach adulthood EVEN THOUGH none of us parented in the same way. As a matter of fact, many of us would disagree with the parenting style of the other parents. And you know what else? That's alright, because :

THERE IS MORE THAN ONE WAY TO PARENTING!!!

This stood out to me because sometimes my parents, or my parents' parents, or even just other parents in general have come up to me in different times within my life and will make a comment. For example, I recall taking my girls to the playground once. During our time at the playground that day there just happened to be an abnormal amount of children. When there are an overwhelming amount of children in one area at the same time, some of them are very likely to be injured. That day, one of those children just so happened to be my youngest child.

She had climbed up these stairs (that weren't very well thought out, might I add. There is no rail and the stairs get smaller as you get closer to the top) on the structure that was placed in the play area for children to climb on: a boat. Behind her were other children playing at the bottom. In those children's excitement to get into the boat they rushed up the stairs, consequently knocking my poor baby over the side of the boat. Yes, it was pretty terrifying to see my child fly over the edge of a boat that was "floating" on the hard ground.

No, I did not develop wings and magically fly over to catch her in the knick of time like you hear about in stories.

My poor baby hit the ground, fast and hard. And all I, and many of the other parents at the part witnessed it. And you know that small scream of protest that parents give when a baby falls down. Well all the other parents did one of those while I sat there. My heart was racing out of my chest at what the possible damages could be, but I CHOSE not to scream. I chose not to jump up and rush over to her. I CHOSE to simply sit there, patiently, and wait to see how she would react.

My daughter looked up at me, as if to see what I would do. And then tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed a small sniffle before picking herself up and walking (normally) over to me. I put on a sad face and gave her encouraging words full of "it's alright" and "you're okay" as I wiped the dirt off of her and then wrapped my shaking arms around her. She was perfectly fine.

After a big hug, some words of strength, and a few pats she was off to play again. And I was proud of my baby. She had been brave and she had literally dusted herself off and went back at it. And I still am proud of that moment.

But as soon as she ran off, I was approached by other mothers and grandmothers at the park. "Miss, some kids just knocked her off those stairs". And I calmly responded "I know. I'm sitting right here. She's fine".

"Yeah but that's a lot of stairs. You need to be careful. She may have broken something, or worse she could have a concussion. Don't let her go to sleep before you take her to a doctor" she said to me. "Thank you for your concern, I am familiar with how a concussion works, but she's okay" I said with a smile. I never took my eyes off of my baby during that entire conversation. And why should I. This woman knew nothing about me. She didn't even know my name, much less anything about my experience in the medical field. I had no reason to be concerned with her belief that she knew better than I.

When I did not immediately get up and collect my children and rush off to the hospital the woman raised her eyebrows at me before walking off to complain to another woman not far from me about how I need to "take that baby to a hospital". I took a deep breath and tuned them out, refusing to ruing the fun of my children for someone else's difference in opinion.

In that moment, I was judged as a lesser parent simply because I felt differently about how to handle that situation with my own children than they would with theirs. I am sure that if it were her, she would have taken her child to the hospital straight away and the doctor would have done his thing and gave a verdict and sent her home with a child who would would be perfectly fine by the time everything blew over. For that reason, I do not think the woman's advice was wrong. However, I did not see any reason to take those steps and my child was still perfectly fine once everything blew over.

Yet my way was not accepted.

The reason I am writing about this is because there is ALWAYS going to be differing in opinions about what is best for a child from all kinds of people. And for mom's (and dad's too, I'ms sure) being less than perfect can be hard on us. Many of us take parenting to heart because we love our babies and we want the best for them. So if it seems like things don't go well we tend to blame ourselves.

It is important for us all to keep in mind that NO ONE (not even moms and dads) are perfect. None of us have all of the answers to everything. And many times there are multiple answers to the same question. So don't feel pressured to change the way you want to raise your babies. Do what you feel to be the best thing for you and your family. I can bet you that 9 times out of the 10 your child is still going to turn out to be just as awesome.

Grandma Comes to Visit

-RING RING-

I look at the phone to see my grandmother's precious photo plastered across the screen. I'll have to call her back after I finish with the kids. I look over to my oldest daughter, Kai, running in circles at the playground with some other kid chasing after her. Her sister, Minny, was in front of me crying actual tears for once. Some kid had accidentally knocked her off of the stairs of the giant boat that was meant for the kids to climb all over and slide out of.

Some kids have no home training.

It's fine, though. My kid's a trooper. I looked at her face and she seemed to sniffle for a moment before giving me a hug.

"Mommy, I want to take a nap" she said, her eyes hung low. I gave her a knowing look before smiling and shaking my head.

"How about this, go and play for a little while longer and then after this we'll go get slurpee's from the 7 eleven. Sound good to you?" immediately she perked up with a smile.

"Okay" she said, hopping up and down before running off to play.

I looked down at the phone to see that my grandmother had left a voicemail. I picked up the phone and opened the app that would play back the message.

"-static- Hello? Ali? Hey -static- just calling -static- going home today. -static- get Minny to -static- home with me" I heard. I couldn't be sure but it sounded like she was asking to come and pick Minny up to go back to the house with her. I would but they have school tomorrow. Why in the world would she call on a school night? She knows better than that.

I put the phone down but it rings again. This time it's my dad.

"Hello? Dad?" Alicia said into the phone.

Over on the other side of the playground the girls were playing loudly. I shook my head at their shrill and excited screams and smiled. I notice a woman standing under a tree on the opposite side of the playground. I squinted at her. She looked like my grandmom. My face lit up when I realized that she had come. I stood to wave her over.

"Ali?" her father screamed through the phone. I diverted my attention back to the girls and my dad on the phone. He sounded upset.

"Hey dad. Is everything okay?" I ask, scanning the field. I then see that they'd found grandma under the tree and had gone over to say hello. I turn away to focus more on the conversation.

"It's grandma. She's gone! She went into the hospital this morning for a heart attack and they couldn't bring her back!"

Goodbyes (poem for Cindy)

Goodbyes

By Patricia Liggins

Dedicated to Cynthia Woods

R.I.P August 8, 2018

please read while listening to "Goodbyes" by Jorja Smith

What word is there that could express the way that I feel today

The thought that has shot through my mind again and again

Something that I have avoided since the day that this word became truth….

Goodbye

Oh, yes, that was the word

The word that bring tears to my eyes

Whenever I try to imagine uttering them into existence

That was the word that I had so easily forgotten.

Goodbye

For now, because you are on to bigger and better things

Things that only my heart could imagine ever getting to land eyes on

Things that you earned with each passing breath

And with every single intentional movement you made

Goodbye

For now, because you have worked so hard all of your days

And now it is your turn to enjoy peace

Now it is your turn to enjoy relaxation

Now it is your time to be with The One who loved you even more than I have

Goodbye

Because I still have work to do on this side

But I know that you are watching;

Smiling at every one of my greatest moments,

And supporting me through every one of my obstacles

Until I come out victorious

Until my work here is done

Until it is my time to join you and The only One who loved me more than you have

Until then….

Goodbye

Scatterbrains

"Excuse me, miss but you forgot your bag" the young man standing before me said. He held the blue purse out for me to grab and with a smile on his face.

We've been doing this for some time, he and I. He's always been there. Many years and many events have come and gone in my life but this same young man has always been there. Today is my 25th anniversary and I still mess up. I still leave things around.

On the train.

In a seat.

On a counter.

I put them down and forget to pick them back up.

Gosh, if my head weren't attached to my shoulders I'd leave that one behind. And every time, this sweet young man always been right there.

Always... watching.

I take the bag from him and shuffle away. I open the purse to see the bloody knife I used to celebrate this year's anniversary.

I'll have to invite him to my next anniversary as a thank you. 

My Imaginary Child

This is my fault...

I didn't make enough pancakes.

-flip-

The girls tried to warn me but I thought it was a game. You know how little girls like to play. When we moved here I thought it would give us the opportunity to start over again. A clean start after Jordan left us...

After he abandoned the girls and I.

I had always wanted children but he never did. He seemed almost....terrified of the idea. This was the result of my desire. How could I know this was part of raising kids? I'm getting off topic.

-pour-

When the girls told me about their new friend, I laughed. "Kids say the darnd-est things" I thought. How naive. And when they told me their little friend, whom only they could see, wanted to be part of our family I obliged. How could it hurt? Imaginary friends didn't require clothes or food. I'll humor them.

-flip-

At breakfast the next day was when I'd messed up. I'd only made enough pancakes for the girls and I. The girls cried and cried all day about it. Honestly, it pissed me off after the first few hours but they just wouldn't get over it.

The next morning, when I went to wake the girls... their room had been repainted in dark red streaks, with limb-like ornaments hanging on the walls. A small, clean piece of paper on the dresser read "Can we have pancakes today, mommy?"

-pour-

I suppose I've learned a valid lesson today. One that I will never be able to forget:

Always.....ALWAYS make more pancakes.