Parenting worries me. For many reasons.
I was parented gentle and possibly over-pampered. My sibs have a different view of our upbringing. They had loads more freedom and responsibility. For obvious reasons I’ve had to live with this discrepancy. I couldn’t stop it. Heck, I didn’t even notice it til I was preteen.
My own parenting was strange. I had two step children. They were incredibly young and have little to no memory of their Mother. My bio two were treated no differently. I loved babies and children. I still do.
I connect better and am less anxious around them. They speak my language and I have few problems speaking and interacting with them.
I was probably a classic helicopter Mom. I raised them gently. And listened and talked and commiserated, maybe too much.
Real life has jumped up at them, one by one. So far they’ve done ok.
I worry I may have done them a disservice.
Struggles, trials and tribulations build character.
They are characters, there’s no doubt.
If you could hang around here one weekend you’d see. It’s nuts.
Example: Son-of-a-wrek has a summer long tournament series going on. His latest invention is Slip and Slide Badminton.
I’m screaming NO, he’s sourcing large plastic sheeting. That boy ain’t right. He has more plans than an architectural firm.
School is out for the grandkids. Swimming lessons start Monday. We’ve already had a meltdown. Son and DILs youngest daughter didn’t graduate to the higher group like the older three grandkids and she’s not happy about it. She’s the most vocal and can be the unhappiest at the drop of a hat. She’s much better since she started school. That old monster still creeps in on her and us.
I try to help her. It seems it’s just something that takes her longer to get in her head and get ok with.
We’re working on it.
The grandkids are not as helicoptered as their parents were.
My Mid-dau is more lenient and trusting about safety than I ever was. I’m fretting when her boys are out alone. I worry about the pond, the critters, getting lost. Maybe it’s a me problem.
I’m afraid we’re (as a people) raising overly self absorbed young people. Something like half the kids coming out of highschool are depressed, and describe themselves as having mental problems.
They are over diagnosed, over medicated, over extended excuses to be emotional wrecks.
Surely some children have mental illness, but half?
Social media, COVID, the usual suspects, divorce, family violence, substance abuse, and poverty play parts in this.
What did children do half a century ago? There were a bunch of problems then. And all these therapies weren’t around. I assume since there was a baby boom leading to boomers, etc. They lived.
If I had a baby today I think I’d parent it with less cotton wool around them. I think.
I don’t know if I could because of my own cotton wool upbringing.
Parent is, as parent was.
Without a very big effort to change it.