I Was a Perfect Parent
As a teenager, one who obviously knew it all, I believed I would be a certain way as an adult. I was one of those people who believed I knew how to handle whatever life had in store for me. This included parenting.
*Insert slightly insane laughter here*
There is a meme floating around the internet that states: “I was a perfect parent. Then I had children.”
It would be funny if it weren’t so incredibly accurate. Too many people (me included) believe they’ve got it all figured out–life, fitness, parenting, their make-up; only to have reality kick them solidly in the solar plexus. My old friend, Reality likes to remind me of its presence regularly.
When I was still a perfect parent–living under my parents’ roof, wearing clothes they bought for me, talking on the phone (a landline!) they paid for; I swore I would never treat my children the way my parents treated me. I wouldn’t keep my children from doing what they wanted, make them do chores, or tell them no. I would be different. I’d understand them, and treat them with “respect”.
I’m sure God chuckled at my plans. My parents did.
Before the birth of my youngest daughter, my niece and I spent some time sitting on a bench overlooking the Puget Sound. The sun was warm, the sky was clear, the seagulls were begging scraps of our lunches, and it was a much-needed break from the hustle and bustle we’d been dealing with for the last few months. Taking a few moments to enjoy the beauty the Lord has created, and to truly appreciate it, helped to relax my anxious heart.
It also helped me to understand something about myself.
I’m not a perfect parent. In fact, teen me would spend a lot of time rolling her eyes at adult me.
I might have thought my parents were strict, but they were nothing compared to how I am as a parent.
Part of this stems from a moderate battle with anxiety, but not all of it. Simply put, my priorities have changed, as have my views.
God is the Perfect Parent
God has blessed us with four beautiful children, not to be perfect parents, but to teach them and train them up in what is righteous.
Much to their dismay, that includes horrors like sweeping, making their beds, and cleaning bathrooms, and picking up toys.
It also requires them to spend time with us, to not put their friends above the LORD or their family, and to forgive each other when we stumble.
Something else that comes along with this is the amount of freedom we allow our children to have.
Our eldest is only eleven, and regardless of how my husband and I were raised the world is a much different place today than it was twenty years ago.
Yes, she can do solitary things without constant supervision, and she has experienced the joy of middle school ministry events (where her mother wasn’t invovled), but there are rules that have to be followed, and consequences if those rules are ignored.
This is a relatively new freedom for her, and I still have several bad moments where I want to keep her in the house away from any chance of getting hit by a speeding car or abducted (see, anxiety).
I’m taking it a day at a time, and maybe I’ll be more relaxed when they’re visiting me in the retirement home.
The point is, there are no perfect parents on Earth, except God, and of course those who have never had children. We as a society (especially women) spend so much time judging the merits of one person over another that we seem to forget we’re all just stumbling along doing the best we can.
Have some people lost their way?
Yes, but that isn’t for us to judge.
There are people in this world who have been called to help those who have fallen. Instead of casting blame and pointing fingers, it’s time for us to come together and build each other up, and to raise our own children with love, compassion, and grace.