Give me your worst

Have you ever noticed, when someone starts a conversation with "I must be the worst parent ever, because..." what usually follows is great parenting practice?

Here are some recent examples:

"I must be the worst mommy in the world because I fed them macaroni and cheese from a box last night."

This, from a mother of many, who creates elaborate Shabbat meals every week, is only two loads away from an empty laundry basket, and has chaperoned nearly every field trip in countless years of her kids' lives at school. Oh, and they were home late that night because of an unscheduled doctor's appointment.

Yeah, she should have made them all wait for salad full of cruciferous vegetables glistening with antioxidants, cut on the diagonal.

"They're going to hate me because I wouldn't let them go to both birthday parties on the same day. It was all just too much for me. "

News flash: All parties are optional, with perhaps the exception of one's own. It's okay, in fact, it's good, to model moderation in one's social life. Any host who doesn't understand this, is worth seeing less, anyway.

"I'm such a bad mother. I ducked a play-date because I can't stand the other kid's mother. I'm going to ruin his social life."
Or, she's going to refrain from ruining her own. This is a complicated situation, but it's not bad parenting to respect her own boundaries.

"I'm the worst mother ever. I told him he had to walk home from soccer practice. I've only been to half the games because his sister's piano lesson is at the same time, across town. I told him I can't be everywhere. He told me the other mothers are always there."

I don't believe him. And even if he's right, and all the other mothers are there, so what? I mourn for the time when kids could play games without adult interference.

In the U.S., kids are so supervised, scheduled, monitored and chaperoned that it's rare that they get the opportunity to referee themselves and organize their own games. It's enough that we know where they are, and that they're safe. Why can't they have some experiences without an authority figure structuring and framing them? Not every kid-initiated activity degenerates into the Lord of the Flies.

It's also important for the child to know that his mother is human, and has limits.

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All of these decisions could have gone another way, and still have had reasonable results. It might have been better (or not significantly worse) to have used whole wheat pasta, carpooled to the parties, arranged a group play-date that minimized contact with the odious parent's lovely child, or developed a relativity-defying transporter that allows a parent to attend multiple simultaneous events. I don't know. Neither did they.

Being a parent means making countless decisions. Every choice has its trade-offs. (Otherwise, it wouldn't have been much of a choice, would it?)

When a thoughtful, invested and intelligent person wields decision making power, inevitably there will be mistakes. It's important to be open to evaluating the result and cost of our judgments.

When we become parents, we switch teams. We become 'them'. I think these "worst mother ever" stories originate from a holy empathy born of our previous affiliation.

We put on the Parent Hat, make the decision, then remember what it felt like to wear the Kid Cap. When we hold our ground, while respecting change the color of our team jerseys. The Worst Evers understand good sportsmanship.

Seeking feedback from choices requires depth and courage. If droplets of remorse are allowed to accumulate, it's possible to drown them, given the staggering quantity of small choices in a typical parenting day. These Worst Mom Evar stories serve an important purpose. They help us drain each other's buckets.

Meanwhile, don't get me started on those who proudly tout their systems, clearly convinced they've outsmarted childhood.

It's whenever I think (however briefly) I've "solved parenting" that the Universe promptly delivers a whack upside my head - like banging on a radio to get better humility reception.

I'm not saying there's no place for a positive evaluation of a great result, or that satisfaction is impossible. I'm not advocating neuroticism. It's just that complacency and smugness are incompatible with the authenticity and flexibility required for any important relationship.

So, give me the parents willing to consider their imperfections, those with active feedback-reception-loops who test their results and their measurement scales. Give me those capable of introspection, adaptation, and a sense of humor.

Go on, give me your worst. They're the best.


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Mazal tov to MamaBlogga on her new baby! This post was written in response to her "New Normal" themed group writing project.

Oh, and speaking of guilt and parenting decisions, Catherine presented this wrenching story today at her blog (coincidentally named "Her Bad Mother").