The Pouty Face

80% of our lives are spent having adorably curious, well mannered children and the other 20% is filled with pouty lips, then tears and screaming (to some degree)... Most of the time, we can see it coming.  The boys are having a great ol' time playing and we politely tell them that they need to stop and join us for dinner at the table -10 feet away- and it's as though something all together insurmountable has been asked.  Enter the bargaining, stomping and crying and we've got our typical dinner scene.

We try pretty hard to make compromises.  The beginning of dinner is mandatory; all 4 of us spend a moment to ask one another about our days; but after that it's entirely up to them if they'd like to spend the rest of the meal with us.  Usually, they don't and that's fine, because as I've learned, it's about picking our battles.  So, if the beginning of dinner is the most important and contributes to our family relationship the most, then we're not taking "NO!" for an answer, but as the minutes drag on and the sun is setting, we've learned not to push it.

It's hard though, right?  I was reading a parenting article the other day about mistakes parents make, which I know I do on the daily, and it got me to thinking about how I'd like to find a better balance between expectations and reality, happy-go-lucky and full on meltdown.  I'm thinking it's something that never truly is accomplished, because just as we're finding the "right balance," another new stage is coming along and we're at the beginning of a new balance, a new perspective and new set of battles to be chosen.

As with all families and relationships, we're a work in progress, learning as we go, making mistakes -whether intentional or not- and finding out what works sometimes moment to moment.  And that's alright, because seriously, a pouty face or two is kind of adorable.

My Style

When I announced that I was doing a 30 Day Blog challenge, I solicited requests for blog post topics and my friend, Bear suggested talking about my parenting style and I thought that was a great request.  I don't know that I've ever elaborated on what I'd define as my parenting style and yet, I write about the product of said parenting ad nauseum, so it seems only logical that I give it a whirl and do my best to convey how it is that Jim and I parent our children.

My life has been happily chaotic for a while now, I define exactly what that means by way of a timeline in my "About Me" section of this blog, but allow me to give you the cliff notes version: graduated college in 2005, met Jim in 2006, married Jim in 2008, had Cullen in November of 2009 and had Arden in February of 2011.  Prior to having Cullen, I had a miscarriage when I was 15 weeks- it was total devastation, I literally cried so hard that my eyes were blurry for weeks and at points it literally hurt to breathe.  It happened 20 days before my birthday and I was convinced that I would never recover, never go on.

But then, two months later, I did go on; and while I will never know what my family would've been like- nor will I ever stop wondering, I truly felt like I got a second chance.  I explain all of this to give a frame of reference for the basis of my personal parenting style and where Jim and I consistently parent from... most of the time.  I honestly think, as I'm sure everyone who's ever been pregnant or has been a parent believes, that my children were the most wanted, loved, cherished children that have ever been born; yet I can distinctly remember holding my breath for 40 weeks, after my initial loss, the crazy abandon with which I embraced pregnancy was never able to be replicated because I was too fearful that it would be taken away from me again.  

So, it is with that feeling of total love from which I parent-- let me just be clear that when I say total love, I mean a healthy, balanced love, one that allows my children to be imperfect and human while still being my world and the reason I get out of bed in the morning.  I parent from the perspective of love first, secondly I parent from a perspective of reason and third from an awareness for the future; in reality, I'd like to have a child that knows they are loved unconditionally, who was raised to be an independent, kind person that will make an impact on society- and that doesn't mean on a large scale, it can be as small as donating library books or as large as becoming president, just so long as their happy.

Recently, I've noticed that parents can be destructive in their parenting choices and, whether intended or not, I think it's unfortunate that it happens, because really, every parent (in any capacity) is just trying.  Trying to do their best, whether they can or not, that's another story.  I know it may sound odd, but parenting from the perspective of loss, or more accurately challenge, has helped me and Jim be eternally grateful for the blessings that children have brought to our lives, don't get me wrong though, I fully respect everyone's decision about becoming a parent, it's incredibly complex and by far the most challenging thing I've ever done, but I know for a fact that it's the best decision we've ever made.

Above all else, I try to be kind to my children (and let me tell you, that's sometimes very difficult) and let them be "free thinkers," but I don't confuse that with being disrespectful or unkind.  I've tried to continue an important element of my parent's parenting style- while being the adult in charge, my parents allowed us, within reason, to make decisions independently and listened when we came to them to talk about everything- big or small.  It's something that Jim and I have worked hard to create within our own family structure, we make it a point to have dinner as a family every night and we sincerely attempt to listen to our children, not just hear them, but really listen... and so far it's working.

This is what makes me happy.