What My Mother Taught Me

Like all pregnant women, I knew exactly what kind of mom I wanted to be. I could list my parents' mistakes without hesitation. I had a picture in my mind of how I would react to every possible child-rearing situation. I had every intention of being an exemplary mother. And then I gave birth.

To be honest, my first son was easy-peasy. After his first several colicky months, he mellowed into a remarkably content baby. He spent a lot of time in deep thought (or so he appeared), his every move was deliberated, he was cautious in the extreme, and quite honestly, I felt as if I was every bit the superior mother I had intended to be. And then I had my second son.

My second son ... well, I love him. But he was not an easy baby and he is not an easy child. Suddenly I realized that everything I had learned about parenting from my first son, well, it was all wrong for this second one. It was then that I learned my parents weren't wrong at all; they were merely different.

It was with my second son that I began to really value my own parents' input and advice. I not only accepted it when it was offered, I began to actively seek it out. I realized that no one has all the answers in this thing called parenting. We are all doing it by the seat of our pants.

There are certain rules we can follow that we know have a sound basis, things that have worked for many generations of parents. In the end, though, we learn most of our parenting skills from, believe it or not, our children and yes, our parents.

Turns out, a lot of my mom's parenting advice wasn't just advice: it was wisdom. She had gone through this parenting road long before I did. And here's the big shocker: turns out, all three of my kids are (are you ready for this???) a lot like me. So not only had she been down this path, she'd offer customized advice, unlike parenting manuals sold at my local bookstore.

Not only did it help that she'd reared a kid much like my own (albeit a girl), she'd figured out what worked and what didn't. In other words, she'd learned from her own mistakes. She could look back and see what had made me a better person. She could see the things she'd wished she'd done differently.

So when my mom told me to nurse my kids on demand, it didn't matter that the nurses insisted that they be fed on a schedule. My mom had done it, and she knew. She defended my right to extended nurse. When others criticised me for not spanking my sons, she stood up for me (even though she spanked and believes it is an acceptable tool) and decried those who spank their very young children.

My mom and I don't agree on all aspects of parenting, and she respects my opinions. She loves my boys as I do, and we both want the very best for them. I know, when she offers advice (only rarely unsought advice, I might add), it comes from a place of love.

My mom isn't going to be around to help with my parenting dilemmas much longer. In the near future, possibly very near future, I'll find myself alone on this journey. Yes, I have my husband and my dad, but you see, they are fathers. Never would I denigrate the role a father plays in his child's life, but fathers approach parenting very differently from mothers. We simply have different roles.

I really grew to rely on my mom, and, well, I cherish every moment we had discussing my children. If I could offer but one piece of advice to new moms, it would be to listen to their mothers. Our moms aren't perfect, none of them, but even if you discard the majority of their advice, you'll find that there is still an occasional nugget of wisdom tossed in there for good measure. And don't ever forget that our children, while often little walking portraits of ourselves, are still unique little beings with unique needs.