So, this parenting gig: It's hard. I've already been doing it for six years, you'd think I'd have it down, right? I mean, I'm a pretty sharp cookie, I learn fast, and after six years at any other job, I'd be a supervisor, or at the very least a team leader, right?
Not so much with this job, though. Almost every week I feel like a newbie. They just keep changing the rules, you see! I thought at first that it would be just fine. The sleep deprivation is brutal, but just change the diapers, feed the baby, keep him warm...no problem. I can do that. But then that baby started to talk, and walk, and--this one is the kicker--
think, and all the rules changed.
And then there came a little sister, and eventually
she started to think, too. And then a little brother, who is just now, at almost three, letting me know that
he has opinions, too. Heaven help you if you don't take that into consideration! And then another little brother, who is starting on the whole walking and talking thing--and you can tell by his adorable expressions that he is
thinking too.
We're going through some kind of giant family phase right now, trying to shake out our boundaries and consequences and learning respect for each other. I've been very preoccupied with trying to start good habits in my relationships with my eldest two children--they are learning and growing and
being themselves, and I need to find the right way (or ways) to guide them.
Preferably without yelling.
Parenting advice has abounded around me lately: Church talks and lessons, the books I'm reading, the movies I'm watching. (Or maybe it just seems that way, because I am always thinking about it.) My favorite discovery, however, came from the play Bradley and I attended on Saturday afternoon. (Bless your heart, Telima, for watching the kids for us!)
Children of Eden. If you ever have a chance to see this play, I very highly recommend it.
Children of Eden was last performed at BYU ten years ago, and Bradley saw and
loved it. Ever since then, he's wanted me to see it. We have the music album, and the piano music. We even went to a community theater performance, which was...okay. The sound was really bad (you could barely follow the plot) and the seats (on a grassy hill) weren't great and...well, it wasn't the best.
Last summer Bradley saw that BYU would be performing
Children of Eden in November and early December. He actually put the opening ticket sales date on his calendar so he would not forget to get us good tickets. We arranged for my sister and her husband to watch the kids. And, since we missed celebrating our anniversary back in October (due to the Great Ross Home Swine Flu Outbreak of 2009), we made a date of it--dressing up, going out to eat, taking our time.
The play was everything I wanted it to be. The actors' voices were superb, the scenery interesting (there was this cool rotating stage that was just perfect), and story and music unforgettable. And it was just the two of us! (Novel, I know.) We had a marvelous, fun, amazing afternoon. (Despite the game-day traffic. Honestly, it was like people wanted to go see BYU play Air Force or some such--AND they wanted to park nearby! Forcing us to have to park
in a more remote parking lot. I know. The humanity!)
But enough about the lovey-dovey dating anniversary stuff--back to parenting.
Children of Eden is a musical play (written by Stephan Schwartz, who also wrote
Wicked, as well as the songs for
Pocahontas and
Enchanted,
and the theme song for
Johnny and the Sprites (now that's fame), among other things. The storyline is based on the stories of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, and Noah and his family. As
Wikipedia says:
While using the Bible as a plot source, it freely deviates in many details, and is a story of parents and children without a specifically religious point-of-view.
In other words, don't go looking for biblical doctrine and a correct portrayal of God the Father, Adam or Eve, etc. But that isn't the point. The story is about families, about parents and children and choices and agency. And now we truly get (after a very long-winded setup) to my discovery about parenting:
In the very first song, "Let There Be", the character known as "Father" sings about creating mountains, stars, germs, animals of every kind, but it just isn't enough. He wants something more:
There is one more thing to build One more void that must be filled I'll make creatures I'll call children Shaped like me!...
Wander over my flaxen plains Wonder up at my granite mountains Count the stars and wish for wings And hold a tool and think of things And search for answers he cannot seeAnd dream of gloryAnd worship me!
In the beginning (heh), the creation of Adam and Eve is an essentially selfish act. "Father" is looking for children who will simply love and worship him. He doesn't reckon for the fact that they might eventually wish to make their own choices, and this oversight (or blindness) provides the catalyst for all the conflict in the story--first between "Father" and Adam and Eve, then between Adam and Cain, then between Noah and Japheth.
(Disclaimer: I don't believe that the actual creation of Adam and Eve, by God the Father, was selfish. We are discussing a play that, by using the oldest stories known to man, tries to teach us something about ourselves. That is all.)
Too often, lately, I have found myself expecting that Zee and Em do exactly what I want, when I want it.
You must do such-and-such, Zee! Why, Momma? Because I said so, don't question me, just do it! Not surprisingly, they don't much care for this style of parenting. What's worse, when I actually do need to punish or correct them, I find myself unreasonably angry:
How dare you disobey ME?!! I do everything for you!! You are so ungrateful! (This is what I say in my head, please understand. But even if I don't say it aloud, my actions are anything but loving.)
While watching the play, I realized that I have been incredibly selfish. Instead of seeing my children as real people, I have been looking at them as objects--put here to "worship" me. When they don't...well, it isn't pretty.
I don't want to be this way. I don't want my children to feel like they are obstacles to me. So, today, I tried to be better. I tried to remember that our family is simply the most important thing in the world to me. And even when I needed to correct and punish, I tried to be patient and loving.
And you know what? It made a difference. Em's temper tantrum wasn't any shorter, and Zee's frustration at me wasn't lessened in anyway, but the way I felt was different. I felt love, and compassion, and a little humor. I didn't instantly turn into bad-mood-momma. I was able to discipline, give loves afterward, and then go about my business, unsoured by the experience.
I don't expect it will always be this easy. I know that lessons fade and tempers rise and (perhaps most importantly) Bradley has to go to work, leaving me alone with the munchkins. But I hope I can look back and read this (impossibly long) post, and remember, and try to do better again.
Gee is my December baby. Born up at the University of Utah hospital the day after a huge snowstorm. Whisked away through the NICU window before anyone could hold him or count his fingers and toes. Two hours later, they stopped by my room to let me caress his little head and hands before they transported him through the hallways over to Primary Children's Hopsital.
I got to "hold" him for the first time the next morning. He was scheduled for surgery the morning after that, 36 hours old.
Then
Now 
