PREGNANCY & PARENTING

Parenting the Parents

noreply@blogger.com (hazel) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 08:22:00 +0000

With the start of a new school year it is only timely that we start with a quiz. Which do you think is more difficult?

a) Being a teenager
b) Being a parent
c) Being a teenage parent
d) Being the parent of a teenage parent
e) Being the child in this scenario
f) All of the above.

Whichever you chose, this scenario is not an altogether an uncommon one to see for the judges and court personnel at Napa County Superior Court as well as courthouses across America.

While teen pregnancy rates are down somewhat, it is still a concern that young people, still maturing in every way possible, are having and raising children themselves. Finding common ground on parenting strategies, philosophies and just learning how to care for a new baby can be problematic even for mature couples. The additional complications that could arise for younger parents are not difficult to imagine.

In the past, extended and multi-generational families were very common. The so-called traditional family of recent times is once again giving way to many new formations of “family” today. Economic, social and emotional factors are creating nontraditional, single-parent families and a return to multi-generational families. Young people are not always fully prepared to set out on their own. This is particularly true of young people who suddenly find themselves with a new baby on the way.

Expectant parents may conclude that starting a new life together is not what they want, but they also may not be independent enough to embark on life as single parents, either. So multi-generational parenting may be the best solution. In this arrangement, young people rely on their own parent(s) to offer guidance, financial support and parenting wisdom. Grandparents are faced with the complicated task of raising their own children while providing direction on parenting, without taking over altogether.

This arrangement may also include the other (perhaps teenage) parent living in a similar setting. The youngest member of these respective families may be receiving different and even conflicting parental strategies from each home. Professional consensus is that most children thrive in a supportive environment, and that predictable routines help with appropriate development in all areas. Goals and methods of parenting need constant revisions as the child grows and develops. Communication needs to occur often and a spirit of give and take needs to prevail in these discussions.

Yet court is often a destination for many of these young parents who are conflicted on how — and sometimes even if — they need to share parental responsibilities with the other young parent. Here the legal issues can be resolved, either through child custody mediation or by a ruling of the judicial officer. In mediation, parents work cooperatively with a neutral professional who facilitates the discussion to help develop a parenting plan focused on the child’s best interests. But resolving the legal issues is only a part of the dilemma. Co-parenting is a challenging venture even under the best of circumstances.

Guiding the young parents who are then guiding the infant or toddler requires support, parenting tips and constant encouragement. The two young parents must try to put aside their differences and work cooperatively in raising the child. Early cooperation is key in working out differences, as well as providing their new child with the role models that they can look up to for years to come.

Parenting Can Make You Better At Work

noreply@blogger.com (hazel) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 07:49:00 +0000

Becoming a parent makes it harder to get work done, true — what with the extra never-ending job description a new baby adds to your already full life.

But becoming a parent can also make you better at your work. Most obvious are the battle-forged time management skills — nothing focuses the mind like a baby-sitter with one foot out the door. Less apparent are changes in the way you view the world.

When I had my son, I stopped writing. Cold turkey. Actually, I stopped while I was still pregnant. I had a difficult pregnancy and was bedridden for three months (103 days, but who’s counting?).

You’d think that would have given me a chance to catch up on my reading and finish that novel. But I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I couldn’t write, I couldn’t even read. It got so bad that I hooked up the TV and ordered digital cable. I went from having zero channels to having 300. Of course, even with all those channels, there was nothing on.

At the time, I wondered, rather melodramatically, if I’d ever be able to write again. It turned out that I would, and better than before. Because the experience taught me things I needed to know as a writer.

Before I got pregnant, I had my body pretty firmly under control. A sort of peaceful, if vigilant, occupation of a reasonably friendly territory. I didn’t ask it to do anything insane, like finish Ironman or scale Everest. I fed it regularly and worked it out. In return, it pretty much took care of itself: breathing, digesting and keeping all its parts happily alive.

That truce lasted into the first trimester.

At first it was little things, like days and days of nausea. Why do they call it morning sickness? They should call it all-day sickness, because that’s what it is. And there isn’t anything you can do about it. I tried to take myself out of the game by only eating crackers and Rice Chex, but that didn’t fool my body. I was still nauseated. It was just less gross to throw up.

Food I used to like? When I tried to eat it while pregnant I found out I could involuntarily spit things across the room (proscuitto at an office party, for example). Some food I couldn’t even look at anymore. Tapioca? My poor husband had to eat it in another room.

This loss of control over my body kept up until finally I was completely captive and could do nothing but gestate and hope for the best. I spent my days (and evenings!) reclining in an easy chair watching TV against my will. Probably somebody’s ideal life, but not mine.

But learning to give up control prepared me for writing.

I realized that while I might have the most detailed outline in the world, that doesn’t mean that the story is actually going to go as planned. Sure, I have to try and set up the structure and sometimes it might actually go that way. But often it won’t. And that’s O.K.

Now I know that I just have to choke back my nausea and keep sitting in the chair, gestating the story and trusting in the process. Because what comes out at the end will be more amazing than I could have ever thought possible going in.

I’ve seen it in my son, and I’ve seen it in my books.

Everyone always says “Live in the moment.” But who can actually do this? Babies, that’s who. A baby can go from the deepest despair to pure joy in nothing flat. With absolute sincerity.

A baby can teach you that when you’re in the zone nothing else matters.

My husband came home from work one day and looked around. The house was a mess. Dinner wasn’t made. Laundry was piling up with that special geometric increase that happens once you have a baby.

“What did you do all day?” he asked.

“I watched the baby,” I said. “I watched him sleep, nursed him, played with his toes, then watched him sleep some more.”

“That’s all?”

“I didn’t even have time to go to the bathroom.” Then I handed him the baby and went to the bathroom, for the first time in six hours.

Now, the moral of this story is not that I have an iron bladder, but rather that I had been so completely present each moment with my son that six hours had vanished.

Writing can be like that too. In fact, I think that’s why a lot of us write. Because you can disappear inside your head and suddenly everything else disappears too. Nothing matters but the world of the story. It doesn’t happen all the time, but when it does it’s pure magic.

Babies are in that place all the time.

So when you’re writing, be like a baby. Just let it go, give it your moment and deal with all the other things on Earth when you come back down to this planet. Earth’s not going anywhere. But you are.

Nothing is more inspirational than a baby. When I watched my son learning to control his body, it blew me away. Writing a novel is a cakewalk in comparison.

I watched that kid stand up, take a step and fall down more times than I can count. And he did it with such determination and immense good humor. He’d grab some furniture and haul himself upright, sure that this would be the time he’d take his first step.

And most of the time, it wasn’t.

Most of the time he’d plop down on his nicely cushioned behind. But he got back up and tried again, with a grin.

He didn’t have a timetable by which he needed to walk. It didn’t matter if he fell down two times or two thousand times. When he had fallen down enough, he’d stop falling down. And then he’d walk.

In what later seemed like a blink of an eye, my son learned to walk and to run.

Writing’s like that too. I had to learn to always keep writing and keep submitting. Despite wanting to be published right now, there wasn’t a set timetable by which that needed to happen.

It might take me two rewrites or 20 to get something right. The key is, not only to never give up, but to enjoy every step.

Naturally I love it when I master a scene or when I get a good review. Those are easy milestones to enjoy. But I also have to learn to enjoy it each time I try something new, even if I sometimes fall on my nicely cushioned behind.

I’m not recommending that writers run right out and get pregnant (or get someone else pregnant). But I am recommending that you really think about babies and what they do, how they can live each moment fully, and then completely let it go.

And finally, I hope everyone keeps going. Stand up just one more time than you fall down and you win.

Enjoy the journey. We grow up so fast.

On Problem Parenting: It Takes Two to Raise Kids

noreply@blogger.com (hazel) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 07:17:00 +0000

I agree that we should not blame society for the irresponsible actions of immature people who should not be parents. Society can only do so much. It can provide information and advice about pregnancy and safe sex.

However, it is that individual person's decision to take the information and advice. This woman did not conceive these children by herself, so the partner has to share some of the blame. He could have had a hand in preventing this. Why would his allow her to take care of his children if he knew that she didn't like or want them? He could have intervened on how she was raising them.

If you are going to blame this woman for how she raised her children, blame the partner, too, for not being there.

We are All to Blame

How easy it is to place blame on others. We use our righteous indignation and compassion for maltreated children to fuel our sense of blame, asking, "Who lets this kind of tragedy happen?"

Who indeed? We live in a culture that devalues children and families. Our working mothers do not have affordable, good-quality child care. Our working parents frequently lose their jobs when they take off to care for a sick child. Parental leave after the birth of a baby is rarely available. Access to medical care is sketchy at best.

Pro-life supporters are deeply compassionate about saving new lives. Where is the compassion for children who are already here -- for families who can't afford good nutrition, healthy environments, who follow intergenerational patterns of abuse and neglect? Our culture does not have the luxury to be pro-life for the unborn when we turn away from the needs of the babies and toddlers who are here now, needing our attention.

Our blame should not be placed on Child Protective Services, child-care centers, families living in poverty or mentally ill parents. We are all to blame for not demanding legislation that provides for the well-being of all families. We are the ones who let these tragedies happen.