The Biggest Secret of the Good Parent

Parenting has been very different from what I expected when I dreamed of the wonderful family I would one day have. I would have little girls with long, perfect braids in pretty, but comfortable dresses. My sons would know how to cook, do household repairs, and change not only tires, but diapers. It was a nice dream. Then I had a kid. A beautiful baby girl.

When my daughter was born, she calmly gazed around the delivery room as if evaluating the new situation she found herself in. She had bright intelligent eyes and colic every evening for months. Soon she was mobile and on a mission to explore and conquer. A brave soul, she had no concern for her own safety. Her father and I did not share her indifference, so it became a source of conflict.

The most glaring of these conflicts was about electrical outlets. We had the little safety plugs in the empty outlets. Those were of little interest to her. The ones with things plugged into them were much more appealing. She wanted to examine them with her slobbery, nine-month-old fingers. Though we repeatedly expressed our displeasure with this activity, she refused to be dissuaded. We spent a great deal of time attempting to redirect her attention. We did the things the parenting books said we should do, but it basically came down to a battle of the wills.

She was similarly determined to do her own thing through-out her toddler-hood. I became convinced I was a terrible parent. I began to wonder if I would lose my mind. Nothing seemed to work. Then one day, when she was three, she changed. She became not only a follower of the rules, but a self-appointed enforcer of the rules for her younger sister. I still don't know why or how it happened. What I do know, is that I instantly became "A Good Parent." Now I had a well-behaved, obedient child, so I must be a good parent, right?

Nah! I was the same old mom as always. For some reason that I still cannot explained, my child decided she was going to do things a different way and she is still making me look like a great mom ten years later. However, she is not my only child. She has a younger sister and two younger brothers. My younger daughter could hardly have been more different from her sister. I had become accustomed to being authoritative with my oldest daughter. Where that approach was necessary and unoffensive to her, it all but crushed her younger sister. I had to learn to switch between drastically different parenting styles. When I failed to do so, I encountered either the disregard of one or the tears of the other. It was quite the challenge, but I have mastered it for the most part and if my oldest daughter makes me look like a good parent, her compliant, pleasing sister makes me look like Mother Theresa.

I'm hoping that someday, the same will happen with their brothers. My sons are both high-functioning autistics. They are delightful, bright boys with their own quirky ways of looking at and interacting with the world around them, and sometimes their behaviors are a little . . . odd. My older son had a months long obsession with bacon. He talked about to to almost anyone he met. My younger son has to be carefully watched so that, while being lost in thought, he does not become lost in fact. I have spent more time than I like to think about at the school trying to get things arranged so they can succeed there.

When we go out with our sons, it is rare that we look like good parents. In the first place, it is a battle to go out at all. They don't really want to leave the house, no matter how much fun the outing promises to be or how much fun the last outing we went on was. Once, we went on an outing to the zoo, an almost two hour drive. Our oldest son complained all the way there about having to go. Within minutes of arriving, he was hugging us and telling us it was the best day of his life. Regardless, the next time was the same old battle. It may be this way for many years. In the second place, our sons have difficulty understanding what is socially appropriate behavior. One may greet a stranger by coming very close to them, making a funny face, and saying something nonsensical (such as "My head is a Pig!") in a loud, high-pitched voice. We are working on it, I promise. The speech therapist at school is working on it. Progress is just slow sometimes.

It isn't difficult to see how children with extra challenges can make even a loving, dedicated parent look less than stellar. Or you would think it would not be difficult. Reality tells a different tale, as any parent with a special needs or strong-willed child knows. People look at you and they make comments that express exactly what they think of your parenting. The irony is colossal, especially if you have "normal" children. You are the same person, the same parent, with both the easy kids and the harder ones. You are just as loving and devoted, you are working as hard, if not harder, with the more challenging child, but the good feedback you receive for this effort is all but non-existent.

For folks out there who are not parents, I would ask that you not be so quick to judge me or my child when he is acting oddly and isn't getting the point that you are trying to get through the aisle with your grocery cart. For parents whose kids "know how to act in public" consider that you may have easy children. Instead of judging my parenting, be patient and thankful that you have a job less challenging in that area. For parents with special needs or strong-willed kids, who know exactly what I'm talking about, how about a hug?