I confessed to my husband this weekend that I thought I would be better at “this” -- being a mom, staying at home with the kids, playing with them, teaching them....just being with them. When I found out I was pregnant with NB, fantasies of motherhood went viral in my head. Picture the soundtrack.... singing Beatles music sweetly together, dancing to Marley, rocking out to Greenday or Oasis while baking pies from scratch, and frolicking like pixies through the green wavy grass while Dave Matthews strums along. Turns out my boys run from my singing and tackle me down when I dance. There is not a blade of grass in our backyard (we like to harvest nine different varieties of weeds,) and anyone who knows me...knows I don’t bake, (except for brownies.) My delusions of grandeur were great.
Expectations are always unrealistic.
I am very lucky to have a close grad-school friend (SS) with children around the same age as mine living in the same town. We try and meet one day a week just to catch-up, chat, and basically “confess.” She is awesome, I love her -- I need her. We have a connection from another life before kids: dancing and drinking in bars, dating highs and lows, having fun without too much worry. I feel “no judgment” with her; partially because of who she is as a person, and also because we’ve known each other for a long time. Last week she stopped by with her children on an especially rough day, Teacher Work Day -- both of my kids were home. My boys were having a painfully difficult afternoon of sibling rivalry and frustration. By the time she came over, I was DONE. I had no patience left.
I don’t know who mentioned it first, but we both agreed that “playing” with our kids was tough. My son loves “pretend” play, so does her older daughter. This type of play is very healthy for children. My kids cannot get enough of it. They have visions of dragons around the corner, the next ninja attack, space exploration, pirates on the horizon, alien adventures, detective extraordinaire, cops and robbers, hunting for treasure, and so much more.
Some people have a natural gift of childlike behavior, and can “play” down in the trenches with forts, wizards, and Ewoks. My husband can do this, and when he is in the zone, it’s beautiful. I cannot. Our babysitter is a genius with pretend play, my children absolutely yearn for her company. I appreciate this as a true talent. My oldest can create a labyrinth of imaginary plots and subplots that make me dizzy with confusion. I love that their imaginations are so wild,....so what happened to mine?
SS told me she often invokes a twenty-minute rule when her daughter asks for “story” play. “So do I !,” I confessed. Fifteen minutes doesn’t seem like enough, but thirty minutes is sometimes interminable. In the words of Goldilocks, twenty-minutes is “juuust right.” Instead of setting unreasonable expectations, my husband says I should focus on activities I appreciate, that the kids can enjoy too. So the boys and I often cook together, do arts and crafts, board games, reading, riding the bike, playing in the sand...generally goofing around in the more “practical” realm. I am learning to let go of my expectations of who I “imagined” my kids to be, and who I “thought” I would be with them. I don’t have to be the perfect playmate. The real soundtrack to motherhood may not always be what you imagined, but Dan Zanes and Music Together isn't so bad.
Sing with me to my kids latest favorite song, John the Rabbit:
Expectations are always unrealistic.
I am very lucky to have a close grad-school friend (SS) with children around the same age as mine living in the same town. We try and meet one day a week just to catch-up, chat, and basically “confess.” She is awesome, I love her -- I need her. We have a connection from another life before kids: dancing and drinking in bars, dating highs and lows, having fun without too much worry. I feel “no judgment” with her; partially because of who she is as a person, and also because we’ve known each other for a long time. Last week she stopped by with her children on an especially rough day, Teacher Work Day -- both of my kids were home. My boys were having a painfully difficult afternoon of sibling rivalry and frustration. By the time she came over, I was DONE. I had no patience left.
I don’t know who mentioned it first, but we both agreed that “playing” with our kids was tough. My son loves “pretend” play, so does her older daughter. This type of play is very healthy for children. My kids cannot get enough of it. They have visions of dragons around the corner, the next ninja attack, space exploration, pirates on the horizon, alien adventures, detective extraordinaire, cops and robbers, hunting for treasure, and so much more.
Some people have a natural gift of childlike behavior, and can “play” down in the trenches with forts, wizards, and Ewoks. My husband can do this, and when he is in the zone, it’s beautiful. I cannot. Our babysitter is a genius with pretend play, my children absolutely yearn for her company. I appreciate this as a true talent. My oldest can create a labyrinth of imaginary plots and subplots that make me dizzy with confusion. I love that their imaginations are so wild,....so what happened to mine?
SS told me she often invokes a twenty-minute rule when her daughter asks for “story” play. “So do I !,” I confessed. Fifteen minutes doesn’t seem like enough, but thirty minutes is sometimes interminable. In the words of Goldilocks, twenty-minutes is “juuust right.” Instead of setting unreasonable expectations, my husband says I should focus on activities I appreciate, that the kids can enjoy too. So the boys and I often cook together, do arts and crafts, board games, reading, riding the bike, playing in the sand...generally goofing around in the more “practical” realm. I am learning to let go of my expectations of who I “imagined” my kids to be, and who I “thought” I would be with them. I don’t have to be the perfect playmate. The real soundtrack to motherhood may not always be what you imagined, but Dan Zanes and Music Together isn't so bad.
Sing with me to my kids latest favorite song, John the Rabbit:
John the Rabbit, (yes ma'am).
Gotta mighty habit, (yes ma’am).
Jumping in my Garden, (yes, ma’am).
Cutting down my Cabbage, (yes, ma’am).
My sweet potatoes, (yes, ma’am).
My fresh tomatoes, (yes, ma’am).
And if I live, (yes, ma’am). T
To see next fall, (yes, ma’am).
I ain’t gonna have, (yes, ma’am).
No Garden at all, (no, ma’am).
I am with you on the play - I am not so great at that creative imaginary play. Here are some links you might like: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006ZENZ1G/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=simplekids-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B006ZENZ1G, http://www.steadymom.com/
ReplyDelete