We know kids don’t come with instruction manuals. How could they? While needs are similar, the homes we bring these kids into are all different. Different norms. Traditions. Cultures. Each kid is raised under different circumstances. Even our twins are getting a different experience than we offered our eldest daughter who is just 2 and a half years older than they are.
There is still one piece of education I’ve heard is offered to every new parent: don’t shake the baby.
Sophia, our firstborn, had some complications after birth. Nothing serious but still landed us in the NICU for a few nights. It was a challenging experience. There were blood tests and monitors and emotional turmoil. The bustle of the NICU was a stark contrast to the quiet home we ultimately returned home to. The nurses were great throughout the whole process. It was obvious they cared immensely about the importance of their job. They did a great job of providing small bits of education as they did their rounds and checked Sophia between the doctor visits.
The wisdom they shared was conversational. Maybe they found it easiest to tackle their 12-hour shifts by connecting with the parents of these kids. As we found Sophia’s release from the monitors imminent, the real education began. There was the standard stuff about carseat fittings, bathing and the like. And then the nurses spent a good amount of time making sure we knew how to handle ourselves in moments of frustration.
It was kind of crazy. We had a new baby. We discovered a kind of love we couldn’t comprehend prior to this amazing event. And the nurse was explaining the consequences of shaking the baby. I couldn’t imagine doing that. This is a helpless child. But I would come to learn that the best of our intentions become entirely lost when raising a child. (I won’t bury the lede. None of our kids got shaken.)
We all have an unrealistic view of how we’ll parent before kids come into our lives. One of my big ones was limiting TV and screen time. I couldn’t see us as parents that let the TV continuously stream kids content. And as I write this, Sophia is watching Peter Rabbit while playing with Magna Tiles. Also, losing my temper. I’ve been around parents would raise their voices at their kids. I would hate having to be in the same place while that was happening. And today I say with honesty that I don’t have enough fingers to count how many times I’ve lost my temper with Sophia…in the last month.
The way we think we’ll do something, is often very far from reality. You simply cannot project in your mind all the variables that are present when a child is pushing your buttons. I screw up all the time. And this is why parents often talk about how much their kids are teaching them. The teaching is about the parent themselves. Learning how to get better. For yourself and for your kids. How can you get better about this next time? How can you get past the self indulgence of messing up so you can show up in an improved state to those who need you most?
There’s a lot of room for parents to be really hard on themselves. And the best advice I can offer for when this happens is to acknowledge it, learn from it and move on. The baggage we create by carrying around all of our troubles is enough to weight us down when we need to be nimble. Allowing the burden of a fuckup to draw itself out prohibits us from showing up better next time.
We can hate that we’re fallible. That we don’t always live up to our expectations. That we don’t do things the right way the first time. A bit of grace helps. And over the course of a kids life, I think the best we can do is to strive to be above average.
Before kids, you’re unaware of your limits. The triggers that are seeded so deep inside your body don’t reveal themselves to be prickly cacti until these tiny humans come along to water the soil. Or to pour fuel on a dimly lit candle we didn’t know existed. We get put in these situations that show we have little ability to get ahold of ourselves in that moment. We can predictably watch ourselves get fired up at things, even when we know better.
There is a number greater than one where I’ve thought to myself this is the point parents reach when they have hit their limit and shake their child. It most often happened in the early morning hours, after a bout of sleep less than 3 consecutive hours. When the child is inconsolable. When they’re fed, changed and had opportunity to rest. When you’ve held them in your arms for dozens of minutes and simply want to return to your own bed. With the incessant hum of the noise machine. Those are the moments of pure exhaustion. When the memories of what life before kids used to look like start to feel like fantasy. A moment you may never again achieve.
Raising kids is hard. The pressure we put on ourselves to be perfect may be even harder. Only after having experienced these moments of exhaustion do you realize your young daughter is turning out to be just fine. And you’ve committed yourself to showing up each day a bit better than you were before. You’re offering yourself a little grace. You’re not so worried when one meal doesn’t go as planned. When one nap is less than ideal. When you’ve lost your patience. We cannot always show up as the parent we want to be. But we show up and we promise ourselves that we’ll be better for us. That we’ll be better for our kids who rely on us so heavily.
…That we’ll be better for our family.