On Being A Perfect Parent

I see them quite often, at the store, at church, the library, the park, everywhere I go. Perfect parents.  They look at you with arrogance as your child throws himself on the ground at Wal-Mart, demanding that you buy the him the frozen goose.  (It was sixty freaking dollars!)  They glare at you when your child is scaling the wall of the church.  They shake their heads when your teenager gives you a dirty look and storms off in the middle of Dillons.  Perfect parents are easy to spot and normally meet one of the following criterion:
1- They have one child under the age of two, usually a girl.
2- Their youngest child is at least 30.
3- They suffer from dementia or some other memory problem.
4- They are an old high school teacher of mine.  Her kids were as perfect as she was.  Just ask; she will tell    you.  Or don't ask, and she will tell you.

At some point the rest of us were hit by the realization, ya know THE realization, the "Holy shit I am in over my head" realization.

It is at that point that you leave the Perfect Parent club and join the Real Parent club. Some people join slowly and reluctantly.  Others jump in with both feet, or head first.

A perfect parent sanitizes the baby's dropped toy. The real parent looks over while typing a blog and notices that the baby is chewing on the dust pan. (True story, but don't worry, the two year old just took it away and replaced it with an actual toy).

The perfect parent stands right behind her toddler as he climbs two steps to the baby slide.  The real parent sprints across the playground to try to catch her toddler because he just climbed thirty steps to the huge slide without notice.

A real parent has stayed up at night googling, trying to find out,  "what in the hell is wrong with my kid?" (Maybe even using those exact words) and then is horrified at the "googlenosis". Just a note, if you have never done that don't, it is terrifying.

A real parent is constantly making discoveries.
A real parent discovers that THE word, the one her child does not know, has never even heard, that is the exact word her child is calling other kids on the playground.
A real parent discovers that the beer her child does not drink, an entire case and ten empty cans are hidden in the trunk of the child's car.
A real parent discovers that the web site that her child does not know exists, he not only visits, he has a membership.
A real parent discovers that the disorder or illness that he googled in the middle of the night, his child really does have it, and there is not a damned thing he can do about it.
A real parent discovers that his teenager is studying for the drivers license test. Terror rips through the real parent; he see horrible images of twisted metal and injured children. A real parent contemplates throwing the driving handbook away and refusing to get a new one.
A real parent discovers that her three year old can in fact reach that high when a hot chicken pot pie is left on the counter. This discovery is followed by daily trips to the surgeon to check and re-bandage a burn. (Good news, no skin graph needed, and it left a pretty cool scar).
A real parent discovers that his baby can roll by leaving the baby on the couch while he leaves the room.
A real parent discovers that everything she has done to and for her child may have been wrong.  In fact, for a second, she is  sure of it.
A real parent discovers that he must have done something right when he looks at his wonderful, perfect, amazing child.
A real parent discovers that even though she did not think it possible yesterday, she loves her child even more today.

A real parent knows that she is not perfect and at some point probably will stop pretending.  A real parent is faced with his shortcomings and fault every day.  However a real parent works her hardest every day and hopes and prays for the best.

We might not be perfect, but we are real.  Our kids might not be perfect, but they are ours.

The next time I see a perfect parent looking at me and my children disapprovingly (read the next time the kids and I leave the house), I might just be friendly. I might give her my number so when she joins the Real Parent club she can give me a call. No, not really, I will wish a huge tantrum on her.

The name

My brother was filling out a job application and he had to come up with five adjectives to describe himself. Of course I was happy to help him and I told him some great ones (worthless, creepy, drunk) none of which he used. I then started thinking about how I would describe myself. My idenity is so closely tied to (ok, it is completely) being the mother to my children that all the adjectives were describing me as a mom. So I dug deeper. How would I describe myself in terms of society? Where do I fit in? The answer came rather easily. I don't. I do not fit into any social group. No matter where I am, I am different. I am a perpetual misfit. I am too conservative, too liberal, too extreme, not extreme enough, too lax, too strict and almost always lacking the required skill.
I blame a great deal of my inability to fit in on my parents, both misfits themselves. I was raised by a hippy/ intellectual/ psychologist/ anglophile mother and an ultra-conservative/ traditional Catholic/ concert going/ tattooed/ motorcycle riding father.
My siblings and I never fit in, each of us for different reasons, and all of us for coming from " that weird McElwee family".
How does someone who started out in such an unconventional place go on to live their adult life? Well, I have no idea. However, I can tell you what I am doing now, until I decide what I am really going to do. For now I am living in the country with my husband and our six unschooled children. We go to a the Latin Mass every Sunday, where we do not fit in. We go to homeschooling and parenting group's play dates, where we do not fit in. We spend lots of time at the library, where we stick out like a sore thumb. And rest assured, no matter where we are I am nursing at least one kid.
I don't mind, in fact I rather enjoy being a misfit.

New blog

I have so many brilliant, original, poignant, earth shattering thoughts. Who am I to deprive the rest of the world of such genius? No longer will the world sit, with baited breath, wondering what I am thinking. From now on you can just visit my blog and find out.
My blogs, like my life, will probably revolve around children, education, pointing out the ridiculous and some occasional politics. My children will be the stars of the blog no doubt.
I am not delusional (usually). I know I will not blog every day. I will have typos and comma splices. I know the only people who will probably read this blog will be my Mom and sister, after I call and beg them to. However, I also know that the world will be a better place because MY thoughts will be published.