Parenting
Updated: August 23, 2015
Originally Published: January 17, 2012
Flashback to 1988. At just nine years old, I sat observing my mother in her nurturing role, envisioning a future where I would also become a parent. I imagined a charming nursery adorned with Laura Ashley decor, lovingly prepared by a husband who resembled a young Jonathan Brandis. My thoughts were filled with the blissful chaos of bottles, burping, and the delightful scent of baby clothes, without considering what lay beyond that initial, demanding stage of infancy. I was blind to the broader picture of raising children into capable individuals who could eventually take care of themselves.
This reality hit home during the recent Christmas break when my husband was around for an extended period. I would manage to keep the kitchen tidy and the floors clean, mentally patting myself on the back for accomplishing this while the kids were home. You know how it is: cleaning up while they are around is no small feat. It’s like brushing your teeth while munching on Oreos.
After scrubbing the dining room floor for the umpteenth time, I would finally sit down, eager to dive into my new library book. But inevitably, one of my children would approach me with demands like, “Mom, where’s my favorite shirt?” or “Can you help me with my homework?” (because, of course, I still assist my nine-year-old with her homework). In those moments, my initial reaction is often frustration; I just sat down and really don’t feel like responding to their requests. But then, a second thought quickly follows: “In the future, I might regret not saying ‘yes’ to them right now.” After all, you know what they say—those wise voices, usually grandmothers who never seem to offer babysitting services: “Time flies!” “The mess will always be there!” “Kids grow up so fast!”
While anyone who has witnessed a newborn transform into a rambunctious toddler in the blink of an eye knows these sentiments ring true, they also trigger a sense of urgency in me. I am compelled to do everything for my children because what if I don’t have the opportunity tomorrow?
And then there are the haunting thoughts that linger in the corners of my mind: the child who passed away from a brain tumor at four years old, the teen whose life ended too soon in a tragic accident, or the woman who struggled for years to have just one healthy child. Suddenly, it feels selfish to ignore my children’s needs when they ask for my help.
When I first met my daughter, it was amidst the glaring lights of the NICU. I caught a fleeting glimpse of her before she was whisked away, a mere prisoner of the medical apparatus surrounding her. In that moment, I was a mother, but all I could do was lie there, powerless. When we finally learned we could bring her home, despite needing special care, I embraced the opportunity to do everything for her.
Now, nearly ten years later, when I ask her to brush her hair, she responds with a sigh, “Can’t you just do it? You’re always faster!” Is efficiency the ultimate goal? I’m beginning to question that.
Yet, I find myself giving in repeatedly because I can accomplish hair brushing, tooth brushing, cleaning, and even forging homework (yes, I just admitted that) in a fraction of the time it takes her. I feel a tinge of guilt for taking over these tasks, but what if I don’t have them tomorrow? So, I continue to seize those moments, no matter how imperfect they may be—even if it means wiping messy faces or occasionally signing my child’s name poorly to avoid detection by the teacher.
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In summary, my dedication to my children stems from a blend of love, guilt, and an awareness of how fleeting these moments truly are. I strive to embrace every opportunity to nurture them, even as I question the balance between providing for them and allowing them to grow.