My Parenting Manual Got Lost in the Mail

My son turns 6 years old this week, and I can’t help but find myself reflecting on both my parenting and where the time has gone. It’s cliché, I know, but it’s cliché for a reason.

It feels like just yesterday I was scared to death about being a mother.

And now?

I’m scared to death about being a mother for a second time in less than two months.

I think my constant state of being is scared—scared I am going to mess up. Whether it be parenting, work, or life, I am usually scared.

Anxiety sucks.

Matthew started kindergarten in August, and I was scared that he wouldn’t do well. I mean, it’s not like Matthew is dumb—I just didn’t know what he was capable of.

At first, he got in trouble a lot. He isn’t a bad kid; he’s a talker. He loves to talk. I can pretty much guarantee that he wants to talk to you—yes, you, random person reading this blog.

Matthew loved being in Korea because everyone wanted to talk to him as much as he wanted to talk to them. You know, the whole blonde hair and blue eyes thing. Here in America? Yeah, not so much with the wanting to talk to kids, but he still wants to talk to you! It took him a while to adjust to school and attempt to limit his compulsive talking.

One day in September, he was sent to the principal’s office because he got in trouble that much. I was mortified. Does that sound dumb? Probably does, but I really was embarrassed by his behavior.

I immediately began to question my parenting. “Am I doing this right? Is this a reflection of my parenting? Am I just completely sucking at this raising a kid thing? And I have to do this all over again, because I’m pregnant!”

We don’t spank, so when he got home from school, he cleaned. He cleaned all of the things a 5 year old could reach. And when he was done, he cleaned some more. Of course, before and after he cleaned, we talked about his behavior: why he was behaving that way, what he could do differently, what his goals at school were, etc. And through all of this, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was doing any of this right.

I swear, I feel like I’m parenting by the seat of my pants.

Cut to this month. Yeah, Matthew is still getting in trouble occasionally for talking, but he is thriving in school. He’s reading. He’s writing. He’s coloring like a pro. He’s doing well in school, and it makes my heart warm and fuzzy thinking about it.

At his last parent-teacher conference, his teacher showed me just how well he was doing, and I could have kissed her. And then I thought, “Wait. Is this a reflection of my parenting? How do I know if I am doing this right?”

Parents need a report card.

I have actually been asked what my “secret” is, and it baffles me to this day. I couldn’t recreate any of this if I had to. I go with my gut and hope for the best. Really, I don’t know what I’m doing 90% of the time. And the other 10%, I still question if I’m doing the right thing.

When does that stop? Yeah, I know, never. I wish I knew, for once, that what I am doing as a parent is the right thing.

This is a roller coaster I was never prepared for. You can’t prepare yourself for parenting. You can think, “My child would never throw a fit in public!” all you want, until your child is throwing a fit in the middle of Walmart because he wants to put the coupons in his mouth (2 years old was a rough time for us).

We, as parents, are doing the best we can, and we really need to give ourselves a break. If your kid knows that s/he’s loved, you’re doing it right.

Right?

Right.

All they need is love and structure. Oh, and food. Kids need food, too.