...growing up doesn't mean you have to be a grown-up.

I'm not a perfect parent. I'd love to chat with one of these magical unicorns eventually (I keep hearing about them), but I'm just not it and I'm pretty sure you're not either. Every day, I hear complaints of how children rebel, say things that pierce straight through to your heart, and cause general havoc. I have my bad days, too. Many of us blame our parenting, while others find the fault with their children. Actually, I believe it's neither and both.

How many times have you heard/used the phrase "Who's the adult and who's the child"? It stands to reason that this might be a flawed perception of the parent-child relationship. Sure, we adults listen to experts like doctors and lawyers, but have you ever tried to get a teenager to listen to anyone who was not also a teenager? It ain't happenin', hon.

How on earth is a kid supposed to trust someone of whom he has no guarantee that they truly have his best interests at heart? To him, you, the evil parent, seem to be always working against his agenda!

However, I've found something revolutionary in parenting: Growing up doesn't necessarily mean you have to be a grown-up. Being a grown-up is a scary thing... especially to someone who likes to run underfoot. What if we could eliminate that fear and insecurity and replace it with a relate-able and uncomplicated adult?

It's one thing to play tea party with your daughter; it's quite another to initiate your own tea party with her. Which do you think will have the most value and make the biggest impression in the long run? My son and I were picking up his toys one day, just sitting on the floor. All of a sudden I found myself holding two identical figurines and had this impulse to start a diatribe about identity theft. My son found it hilarious. He howled with laughter and then joined in. We did eventually finish cleaning up his toys, but we also bonded.

Our life has been filled with these tiny, little moments that make motherhood, at least for me, 80% awesome. The consequence? My son trusts me... in a way that I would have never dreamed possible. That is not to say that other children don't trust their parents, but my son trusts me enough to let me be his parent. I can be on his level and be a parent at the same time. Oh yeah, I occasionally have to bring out the big guns, such as sending him to his bed, getting the time out chair, or simply giving a swat on the behind.

But here's the kicker: he trusts me enough to walk over to me even when he knows he's getting a pat on the bottom. He'll cry, but he'll let me do it. I'll hold him until he's done crying because I know that's all that's going to make things okay for him, and then we'll discuss why it happened. The final thing I will say to him is "Can we be friends again now?" It sounds overly-simplified, but he hasn't learned how to complicate things yet.

He's told me: when I'm mad, to him, we stop being friends. At his level, "friends" has no compound meaning, so it doesn't for me either. He isn't ready to learn about the various dimensions of friendship. What he can learn is that friendship can be repaired. In most arguments, I just try and satisfy his emotional needs, knowing full well I'm not getting resolution. That's not his job and after all... who's the adult?

But changing my perspective to see the reasons behind his world, not only causes him to be able to relate to me, even though I'm an adult, but also keeps me us closer and more stress-free, allowing me to be the best parent I can be. The kid life is simpler and being a non-grown-up adds a little, much needed, simplicity. We can be overly complicated, as parents.

So here's the baseline: Be simple with your kids. They don't play because they're immature and you're not. They play because their imagination needs an outlet. They don't act out because they need to be taught a lesson. They act out because they need things to be righted.

Give them guidance.

Show them what your imagination can do.

Drown them in love and praise, even in the hard times.

Be silly and right their wrongs.

And lastly, but mostly... always forgive.

Can you say Peter Pan had it right?

...take a birth class, people!!

Okay, I'm not one to nag, but isn't it a general rule that none of us will ever know everything and we should always be working on self-improvement?

Well, wake up, pregnant people! There's a better way to do the pregnancy and labor/birth thing. Obviously, I'm partial to the Bradley Method classes because I teach them, but I really just want mothers-to-be (and dads-to-be) to educate themselves. As we grow as parents, we learn that there are choices and we make decisions to choose the best life for our child. But how many times have we bellyached and groaned about how we wished we had known more when our children were young or even when they were still a tiny peanut, safe inside of mom?


There are serious choices to make, but the biggest things I hear are cop-outs from those who simply don't know what or who to ask about... well, anything! The excuses? Well, they go something like this:

• "I think I've done pretty well on my own until now." So... you already know everything? That's cool... that's cool. I'm sure there is no way this could backfire later.
• "I'll know what my preferences are after I've actually had a baby." Good luck, kid. You're parents are using you as the control group for their next one.
• "How hard could it be? You just push out a baby, right?" Bish whet?
• "I'm just so scared. Anything could happen and I don't want to mess with anything." Okay. This is very legitimate. I know I was terrified when I found out I was pregnant, but the best way to prevent anything bad from happening is to learn why it happens and how you can prevent it. Books, if you're ambitious. Classes, if you're not a reader. Both if you want to be super informed.
• "I'll just see how it goes."  I'm sorry, this is just lazy. It's called ignorance and that may work out well (or not) for mom and dad, but it's not really about you two crazy kids anymore, is it?

I know you're unsure, nervous, anxious, scared, or even flat-out horrified, but for your child... don't you want to know what you can give them? Don't you want to know what can hurt them, so you can protect them? There are free classes, $30 classes, $100 classes, even $500 classes... just pick one and least you can say that you made the effort to make the best choices you could.

The bottom line is this: even if you didn't know or didn't mean to, when it's your child, it's your fault. The only way to minimize those future feelings of guilt is to do what you need to so you know you tried your best. That's all any parent can do, but it's what every child deserves.

If you don't care about trying your best for your child, all I can say is...

Can you say generational ignorance?