More Joys of Parenthood

Does anyone else not relish being the only grown up in the room?

Let me ask it another way.

Has anyone had to explain to their seven year old daughter why they should not sleep with boys before they can afford to take care of babies? That just because they see grownups doing things that seem ok doesn’t make it ok for her until she has a degree, a job, and health care? All this before 7 a.m. yesterday. Whew. Parenting should be on the list of causes for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

My sister recently recounted to me how her daughter told her that with my sister at her side, she was ready to be a mom. Of course this triggered a reaction similar to the one I had over my Grape Nuts yesterday morning. When she told me about it, we laughed until our sides hurt and hoped it was some sort of 7 year old thing. But it is kind of sad, in a way, to have to pull our kids back from the fantasy world of happily ever after at hearth and home. Actually it’s a wonder that this fantasy even persists in our daughters, given what they’ve each been through with their own biological fathers .

I’m sure my mother worried about the pitfalls of raising us daughters through the time of our own sexual discovery, although probably not when we were quite that young. And she had already survived raising three adolescent boys, complete with a Chevy Van and a motorcycle accident or two. But as she pressed on after my dad died, she had to leave my sister and I alone a lot of the time while she worked to sustain the family business. It can’t have been easy, even though she was only a three minute walk from our house. I know now that she had to have bit her tongue and crossed her fingers more times than not. A lot of the time, she just looked the other way. Suddenly I realize maybe it’s not the end of the world that my son’s bedroom floor is littered with Lego Bionicle pieces, or that he likes to hang out with me at astronomy lectures or bluegrass festivals. Things could be a whole lot worse right now, and they won’t stay like this forever, so I better enjoy it while it lasts. The calm before the storm.

So, last night I casually mentioned to my kids that I have no plans to raise my grandchildren. I will look forward to the visits, to baking and playing, to overnight campouts, garden surprises, and whatever wonderful things the future has in store. But rehashing my own years as Mom is not one of them. My job is to raise my children, and their job will be to raise theirs--preferably at least some 20 years down the road. Funny how an innocent little school paper can trigger visions of spending one’s retirement hanging diapers on the line before going off for a night shift in the canned goods section at the Greedy Eagle.

If my job as mothering came with a soundtrack, it would feature this tune. It's a Mammals track called "Go On Traveling" and one of my favorites. It's really beautiful, kind of a goofy song of love and letting go. Evidently the band had a MySpace Mishap and their old site, which had this track, is gone. So I'm afraid you'll have to settle for the Amazon clip. Or, head on over to iTunes and get the whole thing.

Go On Traveling
From The Mammals "Rock That Babe"

Praise whatever you praise and praise it proudly
Eat the apple of your eye gladly
Don't let money rule you honey
Go on traveling

Praise praise praise
Eat eat eat
Don't let money rule you honey
Go on traveling

You're alone you're alone you're alone alone
Singin' a song, singin' your first song madly
Findin' out for yourself what it means to be
Findin' out what it means to not mean to be
Alone alone singin' singin' a song
Findin out what it means
To go on traveling

Laugh at yourself for not laughing at yourself
Open your mouth widely
Open your mind as wide as the time
Go on traveling
Laugh Laugh laugh
Mouth mouth mouth
Open your mind as wide as the time

Go on traveling
Go on traveling
Go on traveling
Go on traveling