Ever since I was little, I knew I wanted to raise my future kids differently than how I was raised. My parents were not mean or abusive, but I just knew things could be done better. In fact, when my first child was born, I remember that my main goal in raising her was to do almost everything opposite of what my parents had done.
Before I go on, let me state that my parents had and have a lot of good qualities. They gave me ballet and piano, they helped me with school work (my dad would often be up with me until past midnight cramming for a math test or finishing up school projects), they took us on trips, they hugged and kissed us. In spite of this, there were a few specific things that I knew I would definitely change: I would make sure we had dinner together every night, with few exceptions; I would put an emphasis on having Shabbat (Friday night) dinner every week (I am not religious but I love tradition); I would read to my kids; I would let them know daily how smart, funny, and amazing they are. I would instill independence from a young age, just to name a few. In addition to specific areas that could be named, there was a general sense of "I'll have to do this better and/or differently". Basically, I would raise my children to not become me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not all that bad. I can be very caring, very warm, I can be funny at times, I can even show moments of intelligence, but there is so much I would change. I can be lazy, nervous, shy, unmotivated, sloppy, unadventurous, lacking in self-confidence. Oh, and I procrastinate - a lot. My husband likes to point out that last one. Especially when our daughter answers back to a request to do something with "just a minute". He'll smile and say "I wonder where she gets that from.". My answer usually is: "If I wanted her to turn out like me, I would have had my parents raise her.".
Now, in all fairness, we are not just a product of our environment, but also of our nature. Wait, so I guess I can blame them for that, as well, since they made up my nature! Truthfully, I do not believe we should allow ourselves to be victims. We should not pass on the blame. I have met people with much more horrible parents and/or childhoods who turned out a million times better than me. My past is my past, and that is where it belongs. It does not matter at this point whose fault it is that I am who I am. At some point, we must take responsibility for who we are (and considering my age, I should have taken it years ago).
So while I am still a work in progress, I am trying to help my each of my children become the person I wish I was.
FH35NFA76W8C
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Will It Ever End?
Question: How old do you have to be until your family stops criticizing everything you do?
Answer: It never will stop.
I am almost 39 years old, and am criticized by someone in my family on at least a weekly basis for one thing or another. It really doesn't matter how many times I may have been criticized before for the same alleged infringement. It also doesn't matter how many good deeds I may have done prior to a specific transgression; and I have definitely done my share of good deeds. I will be accused of offending, of not living up to a particular expectation (an expectation based on what exactly, I'm not sure), and/or in some way of proving myself to be ungrateful, inconsiderate, unsupportive, you name it.
I am almost 39 years old. This is who I am: the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the giving, the selfish and whatever other adjective you would like to tack on to me. I most likely will not change. And, quite honestly, expect for a few instances here and there, I do not think I need to change; at least not in my behavior towards others, including (and especially) toward my family.
In my most humble opinion, I have earned the right to a criticism reprieve.
Answer: It never will stop.
I am almost 39 years old, and am criticized by someone in my family on at least a weekly basis for one thing or another. It really doesn't matter how many times I may have been criticized before for the same alleged infringement. It also doesn't matter how many good deeds I may have done prior to a specific transgression; and I have definitely done my share of good deeds. I will be accused of offending, of not living up to a particular expectation (an expectation based on what exactly, I'm not sure), and/or in some way of proving myself to be ungrateful, inconsiderate, unsupportive, you name it.
I am almost 39 years old. This is who I am: the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the giving, the selfish and whatever other adjective you would like to tack on to me. I most likely will not change. And, quite honestly, expect for a few instances here and there, I do not think I need to change; at least not in my behavior towards others, including (and especially) toward my family.
In my most humble opinion, I have earned the right to a criticism reprieve.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
How Do You Know Your Family Is Complete?
It would seem that three is the new two - at least when having children is concerned. The majority of people I know from my generation are one of two siblings. These days, it seems more and more people are having three.
I am one of two. Quite honestly, I found it rather boring. My sister and I are three years apart. I wouldn't call us the closest of sisters, though we do have our moments. We weren't great friends growing up. That's not to say that there wasn't mutual support and good times throughout the years. There certainly were and I hope will continue to be. My point is that when we weren't getting along, there was no one else to turn to. Partly for this reason, I always wanted more than two kids: to give my children a larger support base.
I now have my three amazing children. But, how do I know that I am done?
When I was in my mid-teens and early twenties, I thought 30 was so old to just start having kids. Well, fate laughed at me. I married when I was 31 and had my first when I was 32. Now, 30 doesn't seem so old! I don't necessarily regret that I didn't have my children in my 20s. I had some great life experiences. My regret is that I didn't take better advantage of that free time to experience life even more. Yes, I'll be older when my husband and I will no longer be responsible for our kids and can go back to being us, but what you gain on one end, you give up on the other and vice versa. I am now about to stare my 39th birthday in the face (April). Physically, I probably should be done. Yes, women have babies well into their 40s, but is it the right thing for me and my family? Do I really want to push my luck? I have three healthy, beautiful children. I'm not young fertility-wise. What if...? My pregnancies weren't bad, but they weren't always a joy, either. And I'm afraid to see what a fourth pregnancy will do to my body, because three wasn't pretty. My patience is short. I constantly feel that none of my children receive the attention they deserve. We are already feeling the stress of scheduling, between school, speech therapy, ballet, piano, Hebrew school, life. And my third has not even started being scheduled yet! Also, and of great importance, is the financial consideration. Kids cost a lot of money, between day care, nannies, extra-curricular activities. Not only do they cost because you have to spend on them, but also because working becomes that much harder. So, you may save on day care if you stay home with your kids, but you are also not earning an income. For me, for instance, it would put going back to school for my masters and starting a career on hold, or at least on very slow motion.
There also comes a point in a family's life when it is nice to know that this particular portion of their lives is behind them and they can now look ahead to new adventures. Just as an example: taking a family trip. There is no comparison between the experience of traveling with a baby or toddler and an older child. Forget trips, what about just a nice outing? I remember taking my two older ones to see a movie a few months ago. I left the little one home, and we just went. No diapers, no sippy cups, no snacks. Just us, happy and care-free. For my family, having another one within the next year to two would mean another four to five years of scheduling around a baby/toddler: naps, food, diaper changes, choking hazards, etc.
Of course those few years will pay off. After all, there would be a whole other person in our family. And if s/he were to come out anything like her/his siblings, s/he'd be amazing. Truthfully, sometimes I look at my kids and think to myself: "How can you stop? Look at what you and Yoav produce! You are doing a service to this world by populating it with amazing people.". As you can tell, modesty has never been an issue for me when it comes to my kids. There aren't a lot of things I've done in my life that I am proud of, but I sure am proud of my children.
I am also well aware of how much my daughter, the eldest and only girl, relishes our one-on-one time. Just yesterday, we ran off to her room together so she could record my outgoing greeting on my cell phone. The joy she was emitting was palpable (and the greeting came out super cute!). For a brief moment, it was just she and I giggling, as if we were conspiring to take over the world or pull a prank on someone. The more kids in the mix, the harder it is to steal away those special moments. Though, I suppose, the more special they become.
Growing up, I very much wanted a little brother or sister (actually, my dream was a big brother and a little sister, but that certainly wasn't going to happen). Perhaps part of me felt that my family was missing someone, or maybe just I was missing someone. After my father suffered his debilitating stroke, I really regretted that my parents didn't have more kids. At least there would be a greater chance of having more help with him. The smallness of our family was really prominent to me when my father passed away this past November. There we were, my mother, my sister and I, at his funeral, holding each other. It seemed like such a small group hug.
My husband is one of four. His parents are both from large families: six and nine siblings. The dynamics of their family gatherings are amazing. His mother's family is especially lively. The majority live in France, so we don't see them often, but when you get the group together - watch out! I have never seen so much joy for life (or shall I say joi de vivre) and heard so much laughing as with her family. Large families can be beautiful.
I suppose it all boils down to what is right for the family. Each must make their own decisions vis-a-vis what they want for their family. Are they willing to give up trips, extra-curricular activities and other costly items in order to have a larger family (if their financial situation so dictates)? Are they willing to sacrifice individual quality time for a larger group and more people to take care of and love each other? Are they willing to give up a few more years of freedom to have a larger family?
I think, for us, if I was younger, I may try for one more. Chances are, though, that I won't. I am blessed with a beautiful family. Perhaps it would be wise to quit while I'm ahead. But, never say never...
I am one of two. Quite honestly, I found it rather boring. My sister and I are three years apart. I wouldn't call us the closest of sisters, though we do have our moments. We weren't great friends growing up. That's not to say that there wasn't mutual support and good times throughout the years. There certainly were and I hope will continue to be. My point is that when we weren't getting along, there was no one else to turn to. Partly for this reason, I always wanted more than two kids: to give my children a larger support base.
I now have my three amazing children. But, how do I know that I am done?
When I was in my mid-teens and early twenties, I thought 30 was so old to just start having kids. Well, fate laughed at me. I married when I was 31 and had my first when I was 32. Now, 30 doesn't seem so old! I don't necessarily regret that I didn't have my children in my 20s. I had some great life experiences. My regret is that I didn't take better advantage of that free time to experience life even more. Yes, I'll be older when my husband and I will no longer be responsible for our kids and can go back to being us, but what you gain on one end, you give up on the other and vice versa. I am now about to stare my 39th birthday in the face (April). Physically, I probably should be done. Yes, women have babies well into their 40s, but is it the right thing for me and my family? Do I really want to push my luck? I have three healthy, beautiful children. I'm not young fertility-wise. What if...? My pregnancies weren't bad, but they weren't always a joy, either. And I'm afraid to see what a fourth pregnancy will do to my body, because three wasn't pretty. My patience is short. I constantly feel that none of my children receive the attention they deserve. We are already feeling the stress of scheduling, between school, speech therapy, ballet, piano, Hebrew school, life. And my third has not even started being scheduled yet! Also, and of great importance, is the financial consideration. Kids cost a lot of money, between day care, nannies, extra-curricular activities. Not only do they cost because you have to spend on them, but also because working becomes that much harder. So, you may save on day care if you stay home with your kids, but you are also not earning an income. For me, for instance, it would put going back to school for my masters and starting a career on hold, or at least on very slow motion.
There also comes a point in a family's life when it is nice to know that this particular portion of their lives is behind them and they can now look ahead to new adventures. Just as an example: taking a family trip. There is no comparison between the experience of traveling with a baby or toddler and an older child. Forget trips, what about just a nice outing? I remember taking my two older ones to see a movie a few months ago. I left the little one home, and we just went. No diapers, no sippy cups, no snacks. Just us, happy and care-free. For my family, having another one within the next year to two would mean another four to five years of scheduling around a baby/toddler: naps, food, diaper changes, choking hazards, etc.
Of course those few years will pay off. After all, there would be a whole other person in our family. And if s/he were to come out anything like her/his siblings, s/he'd be amazing. Truthfully, sometimes I look at my kids and think to myself: "How can you stop? Look at what you and Yoav produce! You are doing a service to this world by populating it with amazing people.". As you can tell, modesty has never been an issue for me when it comes to my kids. There aren't a lot of things I've done in my life that I am proud of, but I sure am proud of my children.
I am also well aware of how much my daughter, the eldest and only girl, relishes our one-on-one time. Just yesterday, we ran off to her room together so she could record my outgoing greeting on my cell phone. The joy she was emitting was palpable (and the greeting came out super cute!). For a brief moment, it was just she and I giggling, as if we were conspiring to take over the world or pull a prank on someone. The more kids in the mix, the harder it is to steal away those special moments. Though, I suppose, the more special they become.
Growing up, I very much wanted a little brother or sister (actually, my dream was a big brother and a little sister, but that certainly wasn't going to happen). Perhaps part of me felt that my family was missing someone, or maybe just I was missing someone. After my father suffered his debilitating stroke, I really regretted that my parents didn't have more kids. At least there would be a greater chance of having more help with him. The smallness of our family was really prominent to me when my father passed away this past November. There we were, my mother, my sister and I, at his funeral, holding each other. It seemed like such a small group hug.
My husband is one of four. His parents are both from large families: six and nine siblings. The dynamics of their family gatherings are amazing. His mother's family is especially lively. The majority live in France, so we don't see them often, but when you get the group together - watch out! I have never seen so much joy for life (or shall I say joi de vivre) and heard so much laughing as with her family. Large families can be beautiful.
I suppose it all boils down to what is right for the family. Each must make their own decisions vis-a-vis what they want for their family. Are they willing to give up trips, extra-curricular activities and other costly items in order to have a larger family (if their financial situation so dictates)? Are they willing to sacrifice individual quality time for a larger group and more people to take care of and love each other? Are they willing to give up a few more years of freedom to have a larger family?
I think, for us, if I was younger, I may try for one more. Chances are, though, that I won't. I am blessed with a beautiful family. Perhaps it would be wise to quit while I'm ahead. But, never say never...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)