In my post about reading classic literature to children, one reader responded:
Sigh... I'm coming at this from a totally different angle now, as child #5 is moderately dyslexic. As we move up into slightly more advanced literature, he is really struggling with complex sentence and paragraph formations. My usual standby is listen and read at the same time (thank you for Books on CD!!!) but even that doesn't always work. I've gotten to the point now where, so help me, I provide him with a summary of the chapter first, which he reads, and then goes on to read/listen to the actual chapter. It seems to be the only way to provide him with a mental framework that he can "hang" the more complex text and structure on. You MUST understand how much the book-lover in me HATES HATES HATES anything resembling Cliff Notes. Yet here we are.
Thus spake a good mother who is wiling to make sacrifices for her children.
When I was a young mother, I thought that making sacrifices for your children meant staying up all night to finish sewing a ballet costume, or postponing getting your glasses fixed so you could afford a really awesome birthday present, or saying, "No, you have the last cookie. I don't even like cookies" (when in fact, you do like cookies, you really, really do).
These things are all sacrifices, and worthy ones. But then my kids got older, and started to reveal that they were actual people, and not blank slates for me to write on, or duplicates of myself. And I found myself face to face with a whole new kind of sacrifice: sacrificing your idea of what kind of mother I was -- my idea of what it means to be a mother.
This one is hard, hard, hard. Everyone knows what a struggle it is to give up something bad in favor of something good. But how about giving up something good in favor of what is actually needed? That brings along a whole worldful of uncomfortable truths with it. And yet it must be done. You have to look at a wonderful package full of all sorts of magnificent things, and acknowledge that it has someone else's name on the label, and not yours.
Good parents are the ones who try as hard as they can to do what seems right to them, but still allow themselves to say, "This just isn't working. Let's try something else."
Good parents are the ones who say, "Wow, this system, plan, or attitude was effective with me, my siblings, and my other six children, and (as far as I can tell from the outside) every other kid in our church, school, and area shopping mall; but for whatever reason, it's not working with this particular kid. Let's try something else."
Good parents are the ones who say, "I always thought that such-and-such was the skill or activity or interest that made life meaningful. But it turns out to be the skill or activity or interest that makes MY life meaningful. This kid is interested in something else. How can I encourage that?"
Good parents are the ones who say, "This kid doesn't actually seem to have any particular talents that make him stand out. How can I make sure he knows he's still precious and irreplaceable?"
Good parents are the ones who say, "There is something wrong with my child -- something beyond quirkiness or individuality. And I can't help him. I need to turn him over to strangers, and trust that they know how to administer therapy or counseling or training that I am not qualified to provide."
Good parents are the ones who say, "I always thought we'd be THIS kind of family . . . have THIS kind of education . . . spend our time on these kind of things with these kinds of people . . . but instead, here we are." Here we are, responding to our actual circumstances, taking care of our actual children, leading our actual lives.
Sometimes, we just have to acknowledge that life has its indisputable stinkiness, and that our own stupid choices, or our own stupid fates, have made it impossible to have what is clearly superior. But sometimes, we end up open being grateful for our failures, because it make one thing really clear: we're not here to be particular kinds of parents. We're here to be the parents of particular kids.
Can you take this kind of thinking too far? Very easily. I'm the queen of taking things too far, and I can't count how many times I've patted myself on the back for being flexible, reasonable, open-minded and compassionate, when really all I was being was lazy.
But there have also been dozens of times when utter strangers (hello, internet!) have told me I'm being lazy because of the choices I've made for my kids, when I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm doing the right thing for my kids. Why? Because they're my kids. I know them. I know us. More than anyone else in the world, my husband and I want what's best for them. We're the one who know, better than anyone else, what we wanted for our family -- and how much it hurts when we sometimes have to say, "Instead, here we are."
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Every day I am faced with a simple reality: my child is not me. What intrigued me at her age doesn’t interest her. Whenever I find myself trying to come up with plans for her future- simple things like which high school to send her to, which college I hope she’ll attend—I run into the same simple fact. “She is not me. As far as I can tell she’s not anything like me.” And often it leaves me worrying that, as a result, I am not the best guide for her life.
It scares me sometimes. It certainly drives me to prayer.
Absolutely one of the most important things you’ve ever written, at least for this particular momma. Thank you so much!
Oh yeah, Simcha, you’re the laziest mama I know - because having nine children is always the lazy, easy way out. ;)
The future belongs to the youth (a favorite saying of mine). My thought is that kids must be adequately prepared for the day when they will leave the nest.
Great post! I’m not there yet, with my oldest being 5, but I had to comment after reading about the mom who hates cliffs notes. LOL! Oops…I found a book at Goodwill that contains tons of 2-page summaries of classics, trivia, grammar/punctuation primers, etc. I’ve been enjoying “reading” some of the classics that I’ve heard of only by title and I thought, GREAT! I’ll have my kids read some of these summaries prior to reading the real thing so they have a framework for what they’re reading. :) Well, I guess it goes to show, one mom’s trash is another mom’s treasure! A good laugh to start the day.
We’ve got the label “special needs” on a few of our kids and I can not tell you how often that means other people want to weigh in, sometimes heavily, on a reasoned and carefully thought out decision. I couldn’t begin to count how many times I’ve said this very thing myself, only badly. From here on out I’m going to quote this instead.
Betsy ,
My daddy had a book like the one you found at the Goodwill.Thanks for reminding me.That, old films, & the Illustrated Classic comic books helped me get a handle on literature before I was old enough to actually read the classics.
I think it’s a great plan.We used every device for teaching Lit. in homeschooling, especially films.It’s all good.
This is just fabulous. I am a huge literature snob. The first child got a diet of classic literture - NEVER anything tied in with a TV show, a toy etc.
Then, we had son #2 who was dyslexic. Nothing pleased him more than to have me read Power Rangers “books” to him, Star Wars books etc.
At school, they told us he needed one-on-one reading help “if we didn’t mind.” Mind? Why would we mind. “Some parents feel there is a stigma.” I told them the only stigma I could see is refusing to offer your child the help he or she needs.
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Words from a teacher to me regarding the accommodations I desired for my daughter with special needs:
“I believe that you and your wife tremendously underestimate your daughter’s skills and capabilities and let her off too easy, and I think that this is very sad for her, your wife, and you.”
You do whatever you need to do, Simcha! That is what good parents do!
@Anne Campbell - as Simcha knows well, we, moms of large families, can be prone to real, sinful laziness - seriously. I know you meant your comment as a light-hearted encouragement and Simcha (and I) took it as such but during this Lent, Simcha’s comment about being a lazy mom struck me as a point to reflect upon.
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I’ve got 8 at home full-time but have 11 in all, ranging in age from 25 - 5 yrs. old. It is easier than you think to be a lazy mom especially when you have a good number of competent children who can do so much on their own.
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I am NOT espousing raising incompetent children at all, as my kids leave the house knowing how to cook, clean and do their own laundry (which they’ve been doing/helping with since they were 8 or so). But, it is really easy to take a lazy approach and delegate every single job so you just sit back and await service. A sort of Downton Abbey approach with your children rather than paid servants.
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You can even delegate the parenting duties to the extreme. You expecting older children to take a younger child under the wing so much so that they are giving them direction, wisdom, advice and time that you - as the parent - should be giving.
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I know I struggled with this over the years, falling into a pattern of watching my kids work and clean rather than joining in sometimes to lighten the load, share tips that only I knew because from my experience and share in the fun that sometimes arrived (usually while cooking in the kitchen rather than in cleaning the bathrooms).
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And I was sometimes guilty of having my older kids take so much responsibility in the “helping” with the younger kids that the little ones looked on them as parents and not as siblings. And there is a very important distinction between those two that should be cherished and protected.
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There is balance needed in all aspects of parenting but everyone, no matter how many kids you have, can a be a lazy parent. Believe me, I know.
Beyond excellent. Thank you.
It really is true what they say: wherever you go, there you are.
“we’re not here to be particular kinds of parents. We’re here to be the parents of particular kids.”
Thanks for this Simcha. It’s both thrilling and terrifying to see the very separate people that our children become. My children are in their 20s now, and even in high school if you told me where they’d end up today, I wouldn’t have guessed which one would actually be on which path now. (And I say “terrifying” because it’s difficult to see them put their faith aside; it also makes me question my parenting in retrospect. They, however, think we were great parents)
This is really what I needed to hear today. Thank you!
Wow, Simcha. I thought Dostoevsky was dead.
I always think of you as a “Funny Lady,” but at times you show a depth that is truly tragic.
I’m hoping and praying that the passion which surrounds and inundates this piece is resolved into cool and refreshment, “like the dewfall.”
I’m also praying for your soul, Simcha, which is a great one.
BTW, my previous comment, which shows 3 exclamation points, should clearly show four.
I’m still trying to figure out how a mother of 9 could be categorized as lazy…
To the mama with a dyslexic son, I am dyslexic and remember my mom reading most of the books off my fourth grade reading list to me. There was a lot of extra stuff she had to do for me and send me to. But, I am forever grateful to her because the kid who hated all books turned into a book lover adult because of her hard work and perseverance.
Oh. Simcha. You have taken my breath away, and made me cry. :) Thank you. We have six kids - I can’t begin to tell you how each one of them has turned upside down some sacred cow or other that I had about what it means to be a “good mom.” Everything, from schooling (private, public or home?) working (outside the home, inside the home, not at all?) attachment parenting (wearing a child? telling the child to just. go. AWAY?) sleep—this one, no questions: whatever gets the most of us the most sleep, that’s what we do.
None of it is at all what I thought it was supposed to be.
My oldest is only two, please remind me to read this again in a few years when I’m trying to be the type of parent I WANTED to be, rather than the parent I need to be. Wonderful advice, for sure.
I didn’t come to parenting with too many preconceived notions. However, one was that I’d *NEVER* buy my child a car. That should be earned and paid for so they can know the value and be responsible, blah, blah, blah. Well, I am now pricing cheap cars for my daughter and I am counting the days until she is 16.5 and she can drive herself to practice and all her different activities. And maybe even pick up or drop off one or two of her brothers along the way. I cannot wait.
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But on the whole, since raising multiple kids, I’ve become much more hostile towards teachers and how important they think their particular subject is in any one of my children’s lives. I remember when I used to think there was no excuse for not having a perfect score on a spelling test. I mean, you have all the questions in advance, right? My first few kids - who were very early readers- had no trouble with that, without even really studying.
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I actually feel bad for the times I yelled at my now 14 year old son for how incompetent he was at putting together one of his many, many Indian villages. These days, when one of the boys gets “girl homework” I make them do the researching and writing, and I do all the cutting, pasting, and gluing myself. No tears, no stress, no future therapy bills, no bad grade on something one of my boys has worked on for hours but since it’s never going to make the cover of Wigwam Beautiful, the dopey teacher is too full of herself and her stupid project to realize what actually is my kid’s best effort. Nope, those days are over - Mom makes every stinkin’ Indian village (and their ilk)that comes through our door and everybody’s happy.
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Today, with these national standards, if a kid’s not naturally at the top of the class in the young grades, the only way he can get there is by becoming an automaton. My second grader can study his head off and still get two or three wrong on a spelling test. I’ve decided it’s not worth the trouble. Slowly, but surely, the boy’s learning to read, and by fourth grade he’ll be able to spell most of the words on this week’s spelling test without even studying them, so I ask you, what’s the point? The kid’ll get it eventually - why am I taking away his free time and crushing his self esteem (since his 5 year old brother yells out the right letters). C’mon. It’s way more important to my little guy that he gets to soccer practice than he learns how to spell “feather, handwriting, breakfast, etc.” In second grade. Get a life teachers.
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Sorry, my rant’s over now. ;)
What’s tough is when you find that you have lost your former identity.
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Sometimes this leaves me with one word:
“weird”.
I’m afraid that perhaps I’ve poisoned my children’s minds when my frustrated response to something that didn’t fit into my former world view was:
“Good Lord, we’re just so weird.”
In many way our family hardly resembles either of the families we came from.
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Last Friday, my daughter and son drove down from Berkeley with my daughter’s new boyfriend. He’s a Senior studying Engineering and is from a very serious, East Coast, Waspy, family. We invited his mother and two brothers to lunch on Sunday. I was a little apprehensive. My daughter tried to reassure me that everything would be cool.
“It’s okay Mom, I already warned him what big weirdos we are”, she said…
When I lamented what she said to my husband, my eavesdropping fifth born, (the social butterfly with no shame-filter) said,
“It’s okay Mom, OWN it. I do.” I laughed but tried to convince him that we weren’t in fact weird, even if our family looks different than a lot of other families.
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Things were going really well at lunch. Scott’s family was very pleasant. One of the brothers is a hedge fund manager in Manhattan, and the other is severely autistic. The mother, who is divorced was soft spoken and lovely. She asked me about the children who weren’t there at lunch, and I went down the line, describing how completely different they are. When I got to my fourth, I explained that he was in Sacramento at the Capital for “Youth in Government”, and how much he *loves* politics. (Who could *possibly* love politics?) I explained how he is extremely introverted, but despite this had been selected to give a speech for his delegation in front of a huge room full of people. “This is going to be really difficult for him” I added. I explained how he is flanked by siblings on either side that are total extroverts.
My oldest son laughed and addressed me from the other end of the table,
“Do you know how he was preparing for the speech?” He asked. All eyes turned to him. “He watched old clips of Hitler and Mussolini.”
There was a pregnant pause.
Then the entire table erupted into uproarious laughter.
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The weird family.
He actually did that. I asked him.
I wonder if parents ever wake up one morning and say, “Wow, my kid reminds me of the kid I couldn’t stand when I was a kid or, wow, my kid reminds me of my least favorite brother/sister.”—not to say that every brother/sister isn’t our absolute favorite brother/sister.
@RichardC: Yes.
RichardC ,
My kids do remind me of my sister & brothers perhaps because some traits/temperments seem to get passed down in the DNA.Good traits & bad alike.
I’d hate to think I had a “least favorite” sibling.Maybe one could say a sibling we’re less close to.When brothers or sisters pass away we realize how much we’ve lost.It’s like losing a part of ourselves.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Hello public school! Never thought my kids would be there, but there they are. I am reminded now and again that I secretly think this life has one lesson from God—detachment of our will. Each child has their own path. We can’t make it for them. We can garden in it to the best of our abilities and try to pull weeds and plant flowers, but ultimately, it’s their path.
The Pharisee in me finds this post unsettling. “How do you KNOW, though??!!!!” Magical thinking is the most basic manifestation of original sin.
Heh. One day at a time, I guess.
Oh my goodness YES!!!!!!
Corita ,
If it’s just an academic issue, you’ll know if the technique or teaching tool works by the results.Testing is overrated, but it does give some feedback on what’s been absorbed.
When kids grow up they change perceptions.Some of what we model seems unobserved/unappreciated when they’re young, but when they’re 26 & have 3 children of their own, or 19 & having to pay their first apartment’s light bill, they may actually tell you how much they remember & how it helps.Then you know it worked.
From the pacifers I swore I would never use to the public school I said they’d never go to, motherhood has been one long version of “Instead, here we are.”
Thank you,Simcha.I really needed to read this today. I am a new mom of a two month old…my husband and I feel like we’re on an emotional rollercoaster. Sooooo much unsolicited advice that “works” 50 percent of the time! Thank you for reminding me that we have time (and God’s graces!!) to figure out this whole parenting particular kids thing. Through your writing, you are a blessing in many strangers’ lives.
Oh, Kathleen, the academic issues bother me least of all! Teaching and laundry are like the only things that don’t get me down….
It’s the personal, Am-I-Merciful-Or-Am-I-Lazy issues I struggle with.
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Simcha’s posts don’t *actually bother me*; the message to be merciful with myself feels uncomfortable sometimes. But I do know that when the opposition speaks in frantic perfectionist voice, or that of the pedantic, sotto-vocce moralizer, I know I am probably ok.
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This is all to say: Probably explains why I have such a short tolerance for internet nanny-ing amongst/between Catholics.
Okay Corita, I get the message. (Actually, I already got it the other day.) I get so tired the constant attacks on the Church and its teachings from the secular world, that it is even harder to take when it comes from people within the Church. I was never trying to nanny anyone. I will admit, however, that I could have handled the situation better. I will try to learn from that. But honestly, I got the message and you don’t have to keep rubbing it in.
Clare, that wasn’t a “message” for you. Please understand: you are not the first person I have been annoying to and about, as a defensive mechanism against outside criticism adding to my own inner criticism. My comment on that other post was directed only slightly at you; rather, it was about the whole phenomenon of Catholics talking publicly and specifically about other people’s sins, faith, spiritual well-being, orthodoxy, etc. etc.
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Sorry if I was unclear. It’s not you. It’s actually all of us, sometimes. But I also pledge to address you directly if I take issue with your words, in the future.
Thank you Simcha for expressing what is so true for my and my friends’ experience in parenting. It reminds me of a funny quotation my friend told me yesterday;“You kids are keeping me from being the mom I’m imagined I be!”
I am NOT a parent. I am a Roman Catholic priest. I have learned ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING I know about parenting, not just from the Bible, from my own experience of family with a widowed Mom who raised us three boys. Not just from my seminary experience which was truly wonderful and taught me a lot about family and community. But MOST of what I’ve learned and MOST of what helps me be a good missionary priest is SEEING, LIVING WITH, LISTENING TO….GOOD FAMILIES which are mostly Roman Catholic, but, of course, not all. I have a list of what I call my “Heroe Families”. And I truly rejoice when I can add another to my list. The previous posters I am sure would be added to my list.
Actually I think one of the hardest things about parenting is seeing in my children some of the qualities I like least about myself, and having to learn to love those things as part of the whole person. It is easier to love my children with their quirks, though, than to make peace with myself and the exact same set of quirks.
Okay, thank you Corita. I have been known to take things too personally in the past. Anyway, thanks for clarifying.
Corita,
I hear you.
Sometimes the hardest person to treat mercifully is ourself.
This is an awesome write. We are raising two little boys with Reactive Attachment Disorder and are in our sixties. We will be making some hard decisions very very soon. The children are not related to us and somehow we got custody just by simply delivering food for the Church. Though we love them dearly, decisions must be made now. This article really ministered to my heart. Thank you very very much for posting it. Prayers appreciated from any readers.
I can really appreciate, Lenore. Our boys are 6 and 7, and we’re in our 50’s. I’ve been taking an MBA course to try to prolongue my working years, but I’m afraid the two of us will wear out from exhaustion way before the boys can pay the bills.
I’d be interested in knowing if any of Simcha’s readers have discovered a fountain of youth? “Drink deeply, or not at all, from that Pierean spring.” Pope Alexander.
... Holy Mary, Mother of God, Please Pray for Lenore (her husband and two children) now and forever. Amen
Lenore, I also have to laugh how, while so many families are agonizing how to have children, the Lord dropped two in your lap, simply for “delivering food for the Church.”
“To those who have, more will be given.”
God bless you!
@Lenore - I’m going to pray specifically for you and your two charges for the next nine days. RAD is no joke. One of my adopted children has attachment issues. There are entire weeks that are just life sucking. As much as I really have the ache for a new baby when things are going well and would love to add more children (through fostering or adoption) to my family, I have those debilitating weeks and months where I’m stretched so thin emotionally I barely have enough left over for the children already in my care. I have been blessed that those times are getting fewer and further in between - praise the Lord! Seek out other RAD parents both in real life and the internet - they will understand. God Bless.
If it’s any comfort to your reader, I earned a degree in English Lit, and even studied at Oxford for a year, and there is no way I could not have done it without reading a summary first. It’s just my learning style- start with the general then move into particulars, take time to understand the finer nuances of the text then just read, read, read. Now my brain is trained (in theory anyway) and I can read anything and understand it on several levels, make links with other literature etc. but it was harder for me… so I worked harder. But first I had to go with what worked. Great post!
Marissa, I wonder why people think that any worthwhile thing comes easy? Although I was blessed with a natural intellect, many of my peers who struggled have gone much further. The reason: “it’s not the meat, it’s the motion.” Differences in intellect are not as important as motivation, drive, character and determination. If only I knew then what I know now.
As my father used to say: “Before I had kids I had plenty of theories and no experience; now I have plenty of experience and no theories.”
Simcha, this, as ALWAYS, is exceptional. Your writing is a series of unpredictable truth. Thanks be to God for you.
The topic of this article is one that I brought to confession once and a very wise priest reminded me of something that has stayed with me ever since: that this is the poverty of motherhood—that the challenges I may face with my child are not necessarily ones of my choosing, or within my area of “expertise,” or related to any background experience I may have had up to this point. But the letting go of ways of parenting that I so obstinately dug my heels in to in previous days was a way of allowing emptiness to come in to my soul and make room for the work that God wanted to do in our lives. I had never thought of reframing my child’s issues (for myself) as a poverty of motherhood, but it made complete sense to me and was very comforting. I only wish I had let go sooner, that I had understood sooner what Simcha is saying. Thank you once again for writing something that truly lifts another mother up.
Sometimes I wonder if other mothers have some of the same challenges which I face. It can be so easy to think of other families as having a perfect life with perfect children, but of course I know that is not true. We also have a child with dyslexia, only it is pretty severe. I would be delighted if spelling were the only issue at hand, but we are still working on a very, very basic reading level (1st grade) at what should be the fourth grade. Coming from someone who also dearly loves books and is highly educated, it wrenches at my heart that this dear child has to struggle so much to learn what comes so easily to others. A couple of family members perceive this child to be lazy, stubborn, and disrespectful, when in fact, this child is frustrated and trying with all of her might to learn very basic words. To make matters worse, I have had to rely on these same family members for help since I have been very ill and we are home educators.
In addition to that, it takes said dyslexic child 10 times as long to finish her work while her siblings quickly and effortlessly breeze through their work. Comparisons between her and her siblings regarding schoolwork are often made by these family members, and she is deemed lacking. She has been told by family members that she will grow up to be lazy and stupid and that she will be forced to clean houses if she refuses to put forth effort. Prayers about the situation would be greatly welcomed - that family members would have patience and show understanding and to my child - and that they not criticize her progress thus far, and instead try to praise and encourage her efforts. Additionally,prayers would be welcome that relatives would not accuse us of “neglecting” her schooling. Because of her learning disability, our relatives perceive that somehow we are not teaching her, when in fact we have spent hours upon hours instructing her, often to no avail.
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