Parenting

I wouldn’t say I’m the black sheep of the family, but I’m pretty sure my mom isn't surprised that some of the choices I’ve made in raising my son have been a little different from the way she did things. My mom gave us all she could. She stayed home to raise my sister and me for most of our childhood; she only returned to work to help put us through college.

I’m not a fan of repeating things over and over so that they lose their meaning. "Pledge: a solemn promise or agreement." It is that extra level, the solemnity, that makes me uncomfortable with casual usage.

Babies, while awesome in so many wonderful ways, do not give a single shit if you really need another hour of sleep. If the baby is up, you’re up. So we were up.

I had all my parents' attention, all the time. Yes, it felt a little much at times, but it also made me a great conversationalist. Hanging out around adults was calming. They didn't pull my hair or push me over to grab a toy. They didn't spit on me or break my things. They had self-restraint. (And they responded well to stares.)

We parents always get caught up in our children’s delightful personalities and try to predict future careers. I have no doubt this little activist/politico has a bright future ahead of him making a difference for a lot of people, since he has more than made a difference for me.

When I brought my son into the world, I thought that he would be an awful lot like me. He had to be, right? He grew inside me; I nourished him; I was the one home with him day in and day out during those very impressionable years, while my husband worked a grueling military schedule — yet there are few similarities to be found.

There are some days of parenting that are magical, full of unicorns and four leaf clovers and lottery winnings. Those are the moments when I catch myself, just for a second, feeling content and happy and looking around trying to freeze things. Out of 7000 days, those maybe make up five a year.

Just as you're learning to navigate the world by yourself, I guess it's time for me to relearn the ropes of motherhood. To patiently watch you find your wings, to sit in the shadows and watch you fly, to applaud you quietly from a distance, to embrace you when you decide to come back. Only to go off by yourself again.